


Moonwalkers

by twinklingpaopufruit



Series: Moonwalkers [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, All seven years, BAMF Stiles, Everyone has magic, F/M, Harry Potter Universe, Hogwarts, I APOLOGIZE, Lycaon - Freeform, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Moonwalkers, POV Multiple, Slow Build, Slow Burn, There will be an actual long plot to this, Werewolves, abandoned, but left an outline how the story finishes, i am literally writing all seven years, i mean long, what did i get myself into, when i say long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-26
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-01-17 01:45:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 68
Words: 531,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1369366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinklingpaopufruit/pseuds/twinklingpaopufruit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles had his entire Seven Years of Hogwarts all planned out:</p><p>Prank and Prank Hard.<br/>Woo Lydia Martin.<br/>Avoid detention and Potions at all cost.<br/>Have crazy fun.</p><p>Enter brooding werewolf to send this plan to the bottom of the Black Lake.</p><p> </p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a story of all Seven Years so prepare for the slow build of Sterek. This is the prologue so enjoy! 
> 
> Teen Wolf and their Hogwarts Houses [Character Profiles](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1369558)

Derek’s hands had not stopped shaking since the fire. He slowly reached for the hem of his wizard dress robes and bit down on the instinct to retract his claws into the hand-me down robes. The clothes made Derek scratch at his wrists and the awful smell made Derek hold his breath for long periods. He did not want to wear the clothes, but he did not have a choice. All his belongings had turned to ash and he knew the Wizengamot would not appreciate him walking into the court with muggle clothes.

 His shaking spread to his body as he watched elderly wizards take their seats on the elevated crescent platform. It was almost time. He let out a shaky breath and nearly jumped out of his skin when his older sister, Laura, placed a warm hand on his shoulder. “Remember to watch what you say, ok, Derek,” Laura whispered.

 Derek nodded and saw all fifty members finally sit down and the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot stand. He was a middle-aged man with a rather prominent receding hairline and only his large, long, thin nose and double chin distracted from that fact.

“If everyone is seated, I would like to proceed in presenting the case against Argent, Gerard and Argent, Kate to the jury,” the Chief Warlock said monotonously. Derek saw that off on the side the Court Scribe was taking note of everything. “Firstly, would Mister Derek Hale, victim of the Hale Manor Fire, please approach the floor.”

After a gentle nudge from Laura, Derek stumbled to his feet and down the stairs to the platform and tentatively sat down on the lone chair in front of the Wizengamot.

 “My name is Ichabod Adams, Wizard Youth Representative,” He said turning his firm gaze to Derek. He was not as old as the Chief Warlock but the only thing remotely pleasing of his face were his blue eyes. “I will be questioning you under the truth charm. As rules of the Wizengamot, established in 1912 minors are not allowed to undergo Veritaserum, therefore you will not be forced to say anything against your will. A green light will appear over your head if you are telling the truth, anything untrue will turn red. You are not obligated to answer any questions you do not wish.” Adams instructed. “Do you understand Mister Hale?”

Derek nodded wordlessly and watched as Adams waved his wand over his head.

 “Please state your full name,” Adams said.

 “Derek Lucas Hale.”

 “How old are you?”

 “Eleven.”

 “Do you know why you are here?”

 Derek resisted the automatic urge to growl and point out that if he didn’t know why he was here he wouldn’t be here. Instead, he forced down the primal urge and stated without emotion, “Kate Argent used me to get my family where she and Gerard Argent murdered my family in a fire.”

 “Please state a clearer definition of the word used Mister Hale. How did she use you?”

 Derek looked away from Adams and turned to the Wizengamot. All the wizards and witches leaned in, their curiosity peaked. “She approached me outside the wards of the manor and asked me questions.”

 “What sorts of questions?”

 “Simple things at first. She asked me who I was, why I was in the woods, what I liked to do in my spare time, she asked if I wanted to play with her.”

 “How did you answer each question, Mister Hale?”

 “I told her my name.” Derek paused and bit his lip. He felt it was best leaving the information about Paige a secret. Her death was never put under investigation and Derek wanted it that way. He did not want them knowing that he went to the woods to visit her death site every day, instead he said, “I like playing in the woods.” The light above his head shined green, not a complete lie nor a complete truth. “And I said I would like to play with her. She became my friend in a way. But then she started asking me questions about my family of where they lived, when did we all come together, and I answered all her questions. I did not realize she was using me to kill my family until it was too late."

 “When did you Mister Hale come to the conclusion she was using you?”

 “When she chained me to a tree using a fire rope charm.” Derek looked to Laura and she nodded in encouragement, as he left out crucial information that Kate had also used real chains dipped in wolfsbane to tie him to the tree.

 When he turned to back to Adams, the man seemed as if he did not believe him but the green light proved otherwise. The other members of the Wizengamot were appalled at this revelation and some of them looked sickened.

 “Mister Hale, show us the wounds that Kate Argent placed on you.”

 Derek panicked in his seat. He did not want to show any of the markings but he knew it would help the case. So after fidgeting with the buttons of his shirt, he pulled it over his head and showed the court. There was a collective gasp as everyone saw the large red welts across his torso. Derek never felt more relieved that fire made werewolves heal just as slow as humans, meaning the marks would be on his body for a while.

 “That is enough. Mister Hale, you may go resume your position.” Derek nodded and tugged his shirt back on. “Miss Laura Hale, please take the stand.”

 Laura approached confidently to the stage; Derek admired her strength greatly. They cast the same charm overhead as she was only sixteen and began to question her much in the same manner they had with Derek.

 “Where were you during the night of the fire?”

 “I was at Allan Deaton’s, Headmaster of Hogwarts, home at exactly nine o’clock in evening. We were both discussing my upcoming sixth year and what classes I should take if I wish to pursue a career in law.” Laura said precisely and saving Adams from asking her more questions.

 “Why were you at the Headmaster’s house at such a late time?”

 “The Hale and Deaton family have been very close friends for over eight hundred years. It is not uncommon for my family to reside in his home even past what people would call appropriate hours.”

 Adams nodded and moved on with a different question. “Do you stand by your brother’s accused charges of Kate Argent?”

 “Completely.”

 “Why? From the evidence gathered you never saw Kate Argent until she was disappearing from the scene of the crime.”

 “That is true. But from the evidence gathered, Kate Argent was in the summer of just completing her fourth year from Beauxbatons, she had no business of being in Sherwood Forest at the hours my brother met her. She obviously had an ulterior motive.” Laura said haughtily.

 The Chief Warlock who had been silent this entire time, smirked at Laura, “What was this ulterior motive?”

 Derek saw the small facial tic in her lower jaw. “I cannot say. A question reserved for Kate Argent perhaps.” Laura spat.

 “Very well,” The Chief Warlock said, dismissing Laura back to her post. “Bring in the accused.”

The doors groaned as they were pushed wide open. Derek turned to the doorway and saw two figures approach, Kate and Gerard Argent with their hands tied in front of them from a charm.

 Derek did not know why they had to be here. Everyone in the court knew they were guilty; Kate had used him while she and her father burned the manor to the ground.

 As Kate passed by him, she blew him a kiss and a sarcastic flirtatious wave. He turned away from her stare and felt his sister’s arm tighten around him.

 “Kate Argent, please take the stand.”

 Kate remained where she was and turned to her father. Both of them grinned maliciously.

 Gerard took a step forward and spoke up. “Before you question my daughter and I, I would like to make a statement that may actually declare our innocence.”

 The Chief Warlock eyed them skeptically. “And that is?”

 “The Hale family for nearly eight hundred years has been cursed by a disease of the moon. The Hale family are werewolves.”

 A loud commotion rang through the court while Derek’s heart stopped. This is what he was fretting. No one could know that his family were a pack of werewolves. His family’s legacy would be tarnished and his family would not receive the justice they deserved; wizards hated werewolves. If Gerard were to show evidence to court, they would kill him and Laura on the spot.

 The Chief Warlock pounded his gavel to silence the court. “That is a serious accusation, Mister Argent. Do you have any proof?”

 “How bout shoving mountain ash down their throats?” A fourteen year old Kate, cackled madly.

 Derek felt Laura tense beside him as the court went into a loud commotion again. Derek heard a few of the shouts and a few of the most elderly wizards wanted to run tests on them. This was it. Derek was going to die. He jumped in place as the doors were pushed open and three new figures emerged. Derek did not recognize them but a quick whiff and Derek could smell Argent all over them.

 “What is the meaning of this?” The Chief Warlock shouted, upset that they were disturbing his court.

 “I am here to provide evidence.” The man said.

 Derek turned to Gerard who was smiling, “Thank you, Chris. My son can explain to the entire court, how the Hale family—“

 Chris Argent turned to his father without emotion and quickly turned to the Chief Warlock. “I am here to provide evidence against Gerard and Kate Argent.” Chris stated.

 Derek did not understand. He felt his sister’s grip on his wrist tighten in worry and Derek could see why. The woman who had come in with Chris sat down beside Derek with her daughter.

 The elder woman glared at him as if he was wasting her time and turned to her husband. But Derek and Laura did not take their eyes off the pair. Both of them could smell the strong scent of wolfsbane emitting from the woman and her daughter that was only a few years younger than Derek. When Derek looked closer, he could see both of them had a silver chain around their necks that when Derek followed the chain he saw their family crest hanging from it and within the crest most likely contained the wolfsbane inside. Derek looked back to the stern redheaded woman and when he caught her gaze, Derek had to fight the urge to jump. She grasped the necklace with two delicate fingers and turned it toward him with a feigned smile. She knew. She knew what they were.

 “Then you may proceed,” The Chief Warlock stated.

 Derek turned back to Chris Argent and watched him walk to the middle of the court, but he did not sit in the same chair that Derek or Laura had.

 “I am here to state that the Hales are not werewolves, even if my father believes they are so.”

Derek turned swiftly to the woman sitting next to him. She gave him another feigned smile and nodded in her husband’s direction. Derek turned back.

 “Within the Ministry’s Beast Division laws, any wizards accused of being dark creatures are subject to investigation regardless of age; however, this law only applies to accused wizards who are also accused of committing a crime. The Hales have not. Therefore, the law then states any wizards accused of being dark creatures who have committed a crime are subject to investigation unless the wizards are minors. Derek Hale is eleven years old and Laura Hale is sixteen. Both are minors. This leaves the court with the two remaining Hales in St. Mungos. Cora Hale is nine years old, a minor as well, ruling her out investigation. Peter Hale is twenty-nine years old. He is not a minor. However, his current catatonic state leaves him unable for investigation.”

 Derek really did not understand. Why was Chris Argent defending them if he knew they were werewolves?

 The Chief Warlock nodded. “Granted then. The Hales even if they are werewolves cannot undergo investigation. Therefore charge dismissed.”

 Chris nodded. “Good. Now, I would like to show you evidence that shall place my father and sister in Azkaban for a long time.” He pulled open his robes and pulled out a large stack of letters tied to together by flimsy string. “In here are all the letters my sister and father sent to each other this summer. Within the letters they indicate how they are getting closer to detaining the Hale family and murdering them.” Chris set the letters on the Chief Warlock’s desk. The Chief Warlock rifled through them quickly and then passed them out to the people around them.

After a good ten minutes, the Chief Warlock folded his hands on his desk and turned to Gerard and Kate. “Do you have anything to say in your defense? These letters all point to your conviction.”

 “The letters are all true.” Gerard said. “But I will not go back on my claim. The Hale family are- _were_ -a bunch of monstrosities and if I’m sent to Azkaban for cleansing our wizarding community then let it be.”

 “Miss Argent?”

 Kate bared all her teeth maliciously and Derek could not believe he had fallen for that smile.

“Nothing? Well then. I Chief Warlock and the entire Wizengamot, sentence Kate Argent and Gerard Argent ninety years in Azkaban.”  He slammed his gavel on his podium. “Case closed.”

The guards who brought the Argents in began pushing them in the direction of the door but Kate Argent resisted. She managed to push her weight into them and walked with determination to the middle of the podium.

 She bared her teeth again this time more maliciously. “As this situation can’t get any worse, I would like to say a few words. I didn’t use Derek Hale to get to his family. It was just something to pass the time as I plotted against his family.”

 The entire court went into uproar. Derek could not hear it as he felt his stomach drop. This was what he was trying to avoid. He didn’t want anyone knowing. He didn’t think Kate would say anything to increase her sentence.

 “Miss Argent?” Ichabod Adams said tentatively. “Are you suggesting you sexually abused Derek Hale?”

 Kate guffawed. “I’m not suggesting it. I’m saying it. Though sexually abused sounds a bit too much. I’m not that desperate to sleep with an eleven year old. A bit of kissing a bit of tongue, making him thinking we were in a pretend relationship.” Kate paused to wink at Derek. “All in the name of passing the time.”

 The court went into uproar again and Derek wanted the ground to eat him alive. He felt his breath quickening and without meaning to, he felt his claws digging into his robes. Immediately, his sister pulled him up. “C’mon, they are done with this case. Let’s go.”

 Derek nodded and stood on shaky feet. He followed his sister as the lump in his throat grew. He hesitantly looked to Laura, but her face was blank as she swerved through everyone. What did his sister think? Did she blame him for everything?

 Before he realized, both of them were in the Atrium and walking to the fireplace. Both of them stepped inside where in a tug and sweep were in Deaton’s home.

 Without prompting, Derek walked to the sofa and sat down. He turned to his sister who was standing in front of the fireplace with a blank look on her face.

 “Laura?”

 Laura didn’t move. She continued to stare at nothing.

 “Laura, I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” Derek pleaded.

 Laura gave him a blank look. “I don’t know what you want me to say Derek. Our family is dead.”

 “Laura.” Derek said close to tears.

 “Derek, please not now.” She sighed and sat beside him, cradling her head between her hands. “I just- _fuck_ -I don’t even know how I’m supposed to react.” She gave another sigh this one shakier.

 They were quiet on the couch together for a long while. The more time passed, the longer Derek felt the ache in head and stomach increase. He wanted to know what Laura was thinking about. The guilt chewed on his insides making him muscles tense uncomfortably.

 “Derek, I don’t blame you.” Laura finally said. “I’m disappointed beyond all measure, but I don’t blame you. This is all the Argents fault.”

 Derek wanted to scoff, at least that was only one of them. He blamed himself every minute. _He_ was the one who spoke to Kate. _He_ answered all her questions. _He_ brought her into the forest. _He_ let Kate threw the wards on the night of the lunar eclipse.

“Derek?”

 “Yes?”

 “I’ve been thinking, actually with Deaton, but perhaps it would be best for everyone if you didn’t go to Hogwarts.”

 “What? But I can’t miss; it’s going to be my first year.”  

 “I know but you can go next year.”

 Derek furrowed his brows. “But that means I’ll graduate when I’m nineteen!”

 “Derek, please just stay. It’s only one year. Plus, you’ll be here with Cora and Uncle Peter. Deaton said he’s supposed to release them today.”

 Derek looked to Deaton’s fireplace just to look away from his sister for a moment. His eyes lingered on the portrait above the mantle. It was a picture of Deaton with his sister Morrell laughing. The picture occasionally moved and showed them making faces at each other while the other wasn’t looking. Derek hastily turned away from it and faced Laura. “Fine. But why do you get to go?”

 “Its the year before NEWTs. I need to pay as much attention as I can to able to deal with seventh year. I can’t miss it and I need to get good marks to be able to get a job.”

 “Why?” Derek whined. “Our family has money. It has _more_ than enough money now.”

 “Cause that’s the only way the Ministry will let me place you and Cora under my legal guardianship.”

 “What? Why not Peter? Or Deaton or even Morrell?”

 “I’m the Alpha now, Derek. It’s my duty to keep my pack safe.”

 Derek could see the uncertainty in his sister’s green eyes. It was the first time he had seen that emotion in Laura so openly. She was scared and distraught. All of them were.

 Laura shut her eyes, closing Derek from his sister’s vulnerability. When she opened them again, Derek’s saw her eyes filled with warmth and love. It reminded him too much of the looks their mother gave them after a bad full moon. The look filled Derek with an ache that settled deeply in his bones.  His sister reached out to comfort him, but Derek stood and walked behind the couch. He didn’t deserve what his sister was willing to give him. She should be upset and angry with him not trying to console him for the largest mistake he had ever made in his life.

 Laura balled her outstretched hand and pressed it into the cushion. She sighed deeply and turned back to the fireplace.

 Derek felt ready to leave and head to his temporary room, but stopped as the fireplace crackled.

 Both Deaton and Morrell climbed out of the fireplace. Deaton paused and looked to both of them. Derek wanted to punch the look off his face. It was filled with unwanted pity.

 “How did the trial go?” Morrell asked.

 “They got sent to Azkaban.” Laura said. “What’s going on with Cora and Peter?”

 "They will be released under our care today. They just need Alan to set down the wards so they can apparate inside.” She said. Derek saw Laura glare in the other woman’s direction. “Of course, you meant how they are. Cora is fine-she began healing. She should be fine within two or three weeks. Peter well he’s—“

 “Peter is under intensive care, he remains catatonic. But-I think I shall be able to produce a potion that will help him.” Deaton interrupted.

 “Healing potions and healing magic don’t work on werewolves,” Laura said.

“My sister and I have been working with a new strain of wolfsbane that might help. It’s going to take us about two months to brew and it will take about seven or eight months for it to take effect.”

 “That’s nearly a year!” Laura growled, her eyes flashing red.

 “The alternative is letting him heal naturally which will take about six years,” Morrell said calmly. “Would you prefer that _Alpha_ Laura?”

 Laura’s eyes remained in their Alpha color as she glared at Morrell. Derek understood the situation clearly and apparently so did Laura. Morrell was not like Deaton. She had originally come from a different pack meaning that her loyalties to the Hales were not drawn in blood as Deaton’s was. She had every choice in leaving as their emissary if she did not find the Alpha competent. This was Morrell’s way of seeing how Laura stood as an Alpha.

Laura sighed and her eyes returned to their natural color. “I expect you to brew the potion immediately; once Peter and Cora are fine then I shall take my pack and be out of your way.”

 Morrell nodded with a soft smile. “Of course, Laura.” Morrell said.

 Laura returned the nod politely. “Derek, go upstairs. I’ll tell you when Cora and Peter come.”

Derek knew that rejecting Laura’s orders as a new Alpha would not do well in this time, considering that Morrell could leave so Derek found himself climb up the stairs.

He settled into the large bed and breathed in Laura’s scent, as they had been sharing the bed for over a week. He was tired but didn’t want to sleep. Too many nightmares of burning flesh kept him awake and he would rather be destroyed by his self loathing thoughts during waking hours than suffer through them unconscious. He grabbed one of the body pillows and hugged it instead while he eavesdropped on the conversation downstairs.

 “What did Derek say?” Deaton asked.

 He heard a chair slide across tile. They were on the kitchen island. “He agreed. He understands.”

 “Good.” Deaton said. “What are you going to do about the full moon though?”

 “What do you mean?”

 “After a significant amount of trauma, werewolves tend to lose their anchors. Your Alpha spark will help you and give you relatively a good amount of control during the full moon. But Derek and Cora—“ Deaton trailed.

 Derek clutched the body pillow tighter. That was something he was not looking forward to.

 “We’ll do what we do to turned werewolves, chain them up and barricade them with mountain ash, until they find their anchors I guess.”

 “That’s going to be a long process.” Morrell said. “Might I also recommend Derek and if you and Cora wish, therapy.”

 “From whom?”

 “Me. I can come down every evening after I finish classes to check on them while you are at school. You can come too though.”

 “Derek is not going to talk.” Laura whispered sadly.

 “Most likely not, but some sort of effort has to be made on part of your most damaged pack member.”

 “Ok.”

 Derek did not listen to the rest of the conversation. It merely consisted on how Deaton was controlling the press so limited articles printed over this matter rather than have the Daily Prophet ring on their doors.

 Before Derek knew it though a crackle was heard at the fireplace. Derek ran down the stairs and stopped at the last step.

 When Derek saw his youngest sister his heart convulsed inside his body. He felt like spitting it out. Half her face was black with red welts. Her wounds were pulsing as her body tried to heal them but the damage was too much. Her hair was merely a few strands barely held on by her scalp, but her appearance couldn’t compare to Peter’s whose face was barely recognizable.

 With Laura’s orders, Derek led Cora to the room upstairs and made her lie down, while Deaton and Morrell attended to Peter who was on a floating gurney. Cora began to tear and like Laura reached out for Derek, but Derek could not join her on the bed. He didn’t know how to approach his family anymore or anyone. He felt distanced from them. So he left Cora crying on the bed alone and ignored the scent of isolation permeating around her. He went back downstairs where Laura was listening intently to the healers on how to remove and clean the bandages.

 He waited for an hour for the healers to go and waited another hour and a half as they moved Peter upstairs and tried to make him as comfortable as possible.

 When Laura finally seemed to catch a breath, Derek snatched it from her. He met her eyes in the hallway and walked back to their shared room. Laura sighed in disdain as she saw Cora still crying and clutching the bedsheets with her claws.

 Derek stood in the doorway, silently observing as Laura climbed onto the bed. She grabbed Cora’s hands and gently eased her to let go and retract her claws. Cora cried more as Laura shuffled her into her lap. Laura looked up at Derek and Derek averted his eyes. He could see a foot away where the carpet had an uncleaned potion spill most likely left months ago. His eyes did not leave the spill until he was certain Laura had her full attention on Cora again.

 His two sisters were wrapped around each other. Laura gently ran her hand over Cora's bald scalp, down her neck, and then back up again.

 Derek released a silent whimper.

 Laura looked up again, but this time Derek could not look away.

 “It’s gonna be ok I promise. It will all work out in the end.” Laura whispered.

 Derek did not see how that was possible.  


	2. Arriving at Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First Year Scott and Stiles arrive at Hogwarts

“Scott, I swear if you keep stopping at every shop window, I’m never going to buy you a broom,” Melissa scolded, pulling her son from the ear.

“Mom!” Scott whined but began following her.

It was the first time Scott’s mother had taken him to Diagon Alley. He could see why his mother found the need to charm and invisible string from her wrist to his. There were so many witches and wizards walking along the main road of Diagon Alley that it was difficult to see one’s own feet. The only thing Scott could see was the shop windows. It was the primary reason why he kept halting the traffic of pedestrians. All the shop windows had flying objects, bright colors, flashing signs that just beckoned Scott to enter.

His mother though had other plans.

“Ok Scott, what do we still need?” Melissa asked, as she sidestepped a woman whose hair kept shifting through many colors.

Scott fumbled inside his robes until he found his Hogwarts letter. “I need a wand…and that’s it I think. Oh wait, you said you were going to buy me an owl!” Scott bubbled, nearly jumping up and down.

“Ok, we will go to Ollivander’s first. I just want to get out of the crowd.”

Scott nodded and let his mother guide him around the main road until they passed Gringotts where the crowd began to grow thinner. His mother let go of his hand and they walked with a much calmer pace to the end of the road so Scott could get his wand.

When Scott saw the sign for Ollivander’s he went running and stopped at the door, waiting for his mother. The only thing that kept him from rushing inside was that he knew exasperation would seep from her features. And that was the last thing Scott wanted his mother doing. It was all she had been doing for the past year after her divorce and frankly, Scott just wanted his old mom back. So, he shuffled his feet looking into the shop instead as he waited for her to catch up. His eyes drew to a boy about his age dotted with what must have been dozens of birthmarks talking to an elderly man. No one accompanied the dotted boy and he wondered if the boy had been to Diagon Alley enough times that he no longer needed his parents.

When his mother finally caught up to him, Scott opened the door for her with a smile and sat on the wooden chairs by the far wall. The shopkeeper acknowledged his presence and Scott beamed him a good morning.

He saw the boy turn toward him and Scott gave a kind smile that the boy with the dots returned a little more shyly.

“All right, what else have you got for me?” The boy clapped his hands in anticipation. .

“Ok, try this one Cherry Dragon Heartstring 9 inches.”

The man with the crazy wisps of white hair handed the boy the wand delicately and the boy took it with much enthusiasm. He flicked it quickly and once he did, the chair Scott was sitting on exploded into thousands of wooden splinters.

“Oh Merlin’s polka dotted underpants! Sorry!” The boy cried.

“It’s ok,” Scott groaned, standing to his feet on shaky legs. Melissa righted her son correctly and began to shake off the splinters that had been sticking on his navy blue jacket and faded jeans.

Mr. Ollivander grunted in dissatisfaction and went back to looking for wands while the boy looked to Scott and Melissa. “I’m really sorry. My dad couldn’t come with me because he had to work a case and he said if I caused any trouble, I would get grounded. ”

“No harm. No foul, what’s your name son?” Melissa asked sweetly combing back Scott’s hair to rid all the splinters. He pulled a face and returned his hair to its messy state.

“Stiles Stilinski.” He said proudly.

“Stilinski? You father is Head Auror.” Melissa noted, intrigued.

“Yup,” Stiles smiled, but turned back to Ollivander who returned with a new wand. “This is your tenth wand Mr. Stilinski, please let this work. Your father was nowhere this difficult. Dogwood with Dragon Heartstring 12 inches, slightly springy.”

Stiles took this one with as much enthusiasm as the last and when he grasped the wand, it immediately produced a shower of red lights above his head.  “Finally!” Ollivander said with a soft smile. “Don’t go on causing mischief now Stilinski, though I can guess with a Dogwood wand that is all you are going to be doing.”

“You can bet Merlin I am!” Stiles squealed and placed the wand inside his clean-pressed, wizard robes as he handed him the money.

“Ok your turn young man.” Ollivander ordered and a spellotape floated toward the old man’s head.

“Would you like to join us for the rest of the day?” Melissa asked Stiles. Scott craned his neck as Ollivander made him outstretch both hands above his head. He could see Stiles going to the corner of the room and grab his things that were in an extendable cauldron. When Melissa asked the question, however, he twitched exaggeratedly causing a few books to fall.

“Uh…” Stiles looked in between Scott and Melissa, leaving the books unattended.

Scott figured he needed encouragement, “My mom is taking me to get an owl. You can name him if you want.”

After a long pause, Stiles nodded. “Yeah sure. What’s your name?”

“Scott McCall.”

“Awesome,” Stiles grinned. He picked up the rest of his books and jumped up onto the counter.

Ollivander gave him a tiny glare at the action but continued taking Scott’s measurements. When Ollivander finished, he returned with three boxes and uncapped the lid on all of them before handing the first wand to Scott.

“Ok Hazel Unicorn Hair 11 inches, slightly springy.”

Scott took the wand with trepidation and looked to his mom before swishing the wood in a random direction. The wand shot out green goo and hit the wall. The wall sizzled. Scott dropped the wand, apologized, while Melissa pulled out her wand to clean the mess. Stiles however, threw his legs back and forth laughing. “Oh man that was so cool!” He gripped the sides of the counter; afraid he might fall from the laughter erupting from his chest.

Scott gave a nervous chuckle but felt proud as he made the young boy laugh. Ollivander handed him another wand and this one caused flowers to replace Ollivander’s hair. At that one, not even Melissa could hold in the laughter at the sight. Ollivander pulled out his wand and swished it away with a bemused look. “Maybe this one Ash with Phoenix Feather 10 inches, surprisingly swishy.”

Scott took the wand and like Stiles did not have to swish it before it produced results. The tip of the wand produced beautiful golden wisps that flew into the sky.

“Aww my little boy has a wand,” Melissa beamed. She pulled Scott into her embrace. Scott looked up from beneath his mother’s arm and saw Stiles sitting awkwardly on the desk, avoiding looking at them. Scott would give the same avoidant look when he saw other boys with their fathers. Perhaps, Stiles had lost a parent as well. “Hey you get a hug too.” Scott announced confidently.

“What?” Stiles laughed nervously, as if he could not believe the question was directed at him.

“Yeah, c’mon!” Scott encouraged.

He turned to his mom, giving her a harsh nudge. A flash of recognition crossed her eyes. She took a step back, outstretched her arm letting it known to Stiles that he was welcome to enter the moment as well. Stiles gave a laugh, jumped down, and went to hug them both. “Huggies.”  He joked awkwardly, but Scott could tell he was relishing in the warmth of the hug. His mom gave the best hugs.

Scott laughed and wrapped both arms around the slightly taller boy. He could already feel a growing connection with him and he was determined to make the most of it.

 

|~~***~~|

 

“I can’t believe his name is Posey.” Scott exclaimed, holding his owl’s cage eyelevel.

“You said I could name him! He looks like a Posey! Posey the owl!” Stiles grinned and slotted his fingers through the slits of the cage. The owl nipped at his finger and Stiles pulled back quickly.

“See even he doesn’t like it!”

“His name is Posey and that’s final! And look he even has a crooked beak like you!”

Scott gasped but was not quick to retort as his mother interrupted the conversation. “Ok boys, c’mon!” Melissa ordered taking her son’s new barn owl and placing him back on the cart. “We need to get to the platform.”

The two nodded and walked past the muggles until they reached platform nine and three quarters. “Mom, what are we supposed to do?” Scott asked, looking at the barrier with confusion.

“You run through it.” She said kindly.

“What if you can’t?” Stiles gulped. “Wall and Stiles don’t mix very well.”

“C’mon it can’t be that bad,” Scott stated, trusting his mother. He gave Stiles a large smile. “I’ll go first.” Scott sprinted and Scott didn’t have to wait long for Stiles. They passed swiftly through until they could see the steaming red engine of the Hogwarts Express. A second later Scott’s mother appeared behind them, “C’mon let’s get you both on the train.”

After struggling a good ten minutes to get Scott’s and Stiles’ trunks in the baggage carriage, Stiles and Scott headed to find an empty compartment as the train finally left King’s Cross.

“So no matter what, both of us have to make the Quidditch team before we leave Hogwarts!” Stiles announced as they walked through the train.

“I’m not really good at sports,” Scott confessed. “I’m a pretty mediocre flyer. I broke my mom’s broom this summer so I don’t have anything to practice on.”

“That’s ok! I have a bunch of extra ones!” Stiles remarked. “Agh I can’t wait! This going to be awe-some!” Stiles jumped weirdly in place and accidentally rammed into another boy their age, but instead of both falling to the ground it was only Stiles who somehow managed to take Scott down with him.

“Ugh they let you on the train Stilinski?”

Scott and Stiles both looked up. They stood to their feet quickly and judging by Stiles quick backlash, he knew the boy well. “Shut up Jackson.” The retort though wasn’t very threatening as it came more like a murmur. Scott felt Stiles grab his forearm and drag him forward but the blonde boy pushed them back without touching them. He commanded them with his body language and look alone.

“What not tough with daddy not around?” Jackson teased.

Stiles gritted his teeth and Scott could see the tension in his shoulders. He stood in front of his friend and glared at the blonde, ready to defend his friend.

“You’re just jealous that my dad is Head Auror and yours isn’t.” Stiles retorted over Scott’s shoulder..

“I’m not jealous of anyone, Stilinski. And if I was, I certainly wouldn’t be from your tainted family.”

“Jackson, heel. I do not want to explain to the prefects why these two doe eyed boys are unconscious on the ground. Plus you are a pureblood, please act like it.”

Everyone turned to the extremely tiny, little strawberry blonde behind Jackson. She looked bored with the situation in front of her, causing her to tap her foot on the ground.

“Aw c’mon Lydia. I’m just joking with them.” Jackson proclaimed, placing an arm around the girl.

Lydia was not amused. She flicked a perfectly curled strand behind her shoulders and walked away further down the train’s corridor. Jackson was left without a choice but to follow.

“I can’t believe it!” Scott retorted as soon as they were out of earshot. His skin was tingling with frustration at how Jackson treated his new friend. He had no right!

“I can’t either,” Stiles moaned, still looking down the hallway with a glassy dopey look across his face.

“What?” Scott turned a confused look at Stiles, anger leaving him quickly. He was not entirely sure they were talking about the same thing anymore.

“That girl. She’s beautiful.” Stiles giggled. He leaned his upper body against the train’s wall but the train jerked causing Stiles to slip and nearly fall. He caught his footing at the last second.

“She seemed kind of mean…” Scott said honestly.

“Nonsense!” Stiles scolded, adjusting his clothes. “When I get out of Hogwarts I’m going to marry her and that’s final.”

Scott shook his head in exasperation and grabbed his friend by the shoulders guiding them down until they found an empty compartment, except they were having difficulty finding one. All of them seemed to be taken. Stiles suggested as a joke they got sit with Jackson, but then Scott found a girl with straight brown hair and brown eyes wearing muggle clothes. She was reading a book with disinterest and seemed to be the only one in the compartment. Scott nudged Stiles and Scott pulled open the compartment door.

“Can we sit here?” Scott asked.

“No.” The girl said without turning away from her book.

“What?!” Stiles shrieked. “You’re the only one in here and everywhere else is full.”

“My older brother is sitting here. He went to the bathroom. He should be back soon.” She flipped a page.

“Well there’s enough room for four people,” Scott informed. “Why can’t we?”

The girl finally looked away from her book and with a monotone voice. “No, you may not sit here.” She repeated and looked to Stiles. “That one is too loud and hyper.”

“No one asked your opinion!”

“Yes, in fact you did when you came in,” She said, and turned back to her book.

_“Are these boys bothering you Cora?”_

Scott and Stiles both turned around and jumped as the random boy snuck up on them. He was a few inches taller than they were but didn’t appear to be much older. Maybe a second or third year, judging that he was already in robes. Scott noted that the boy was in Hufflepuff by the yellow and black tie around his neck.

“No.” Cora stated. “These idiots were just about to leave.”

“Good, otherwise I might have to rip their throats out- _with my teeth._ ” The Hufflepuff boy said.

Scott was startled by the threat, but Stiles seemed to get hyped by it.

“With what, your little rabbit teeth?” Stiles laughed.

Cora’s brother snarled, showing off his teeth. They looked like any other except his canines that were a little sharper than most people.

“Oh so scared. The brooding Hufflepuff is gonna bite me. I better make a reservation with the Hospital Wing when we get to Hogwarts.” Stiles mocked

The Hufflepuff took one step and Stiles was pressed against the half open compartment without being touched. It seemed to hit Stiles that the Hufflepuff was not joking, and self-preservation began to kick into his system. “Kidding!” Stiles gasped.

“Hey, what’s going?”

All three turned their heads toward the new voice. It was a small boy like themselves with dark features and a shaved head. He was peering out the compartment opposite of them with interest.

“These two are crazy!” Stiles snapped, somehow maneuvering under the Hufflepuff. Scott was startled by his placement of his limbs that even the Hufflepuff was shocked how it had happened. “And they are so freakin rude!”

“You can come sit in here if you like, if it will keep you two from starting a fight before the term even starts.” The new boy offered.

Scott and Stiles both nodded and went into the new compartment. “Thank you.” They both murmured sitting down.

“I’m Stiles Stilinski,” Stiles greeted outstretching his hand.

The dark-skinned boy did not touch it. “Boyd.”

“Scott McCall,” Scott said, missing the elusive behavior that Boyd was clearly displaying.

“Don’t really care. You guys can make as much as noise as you want just don’t talk to me,” Boyd implored and lifted his book.

Scott absentmindedly looked at the title of his book. _Everything You Need To Know About The Wizarding World From The Wonder Years To Enchanted Socks_. Scott shrugged and turned to Stiles. He shrugged back.

The ride to Hogwarts was uneventful. Scott and Stiles talked about what they liked doing for fun back at home and Scott noticed that Stiles strayed away from talking about his mom, and Scott did not pursue the matter. He did not want to make him uncomfortable. After all it was only the first day of knowing the other boy.

The trolley passed and both Stiles and Scott jumped to their feet, buying as much candy as they could carry in their arms. They laid out the candy in between them and they got Boyd to mutter a thanks and crack a wide smile when they gave him a chocolate frog with a card that Boyd recognized from his book.

When they got off the train, they were redirected to the boats where Scott and Stiles shared a boat with Boyd and a boy that introduced himself as just Greenberg. They got onto the boats and Scott looked at the castle with much wonderment in his eyes that he could not believe he would be going to school there. He lived in middle-class home amongst muggles and seeing something that looked straight out of a fairy book was overwhelming to Scott. He began to dread all the countless hallways and floors and hoped he wouldn’t get lost. Hopefully, Stiles had some sense of direction and would help him all throughout his years in Hogwarts.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Stiles hands trailed the banister as they followed the other first year up some steps. They came to halt at the top where a black young woman introduced herself as Professor Morrell. She told them they would walk through the halls and be introduced into their houses. Stiles couldn’t be more excited. When he finally got his Hogwarts letter, he couldn’t stop boasting to his dad that he couldn’t wait to be in Gryffindor.

The large doors finally opened and they walked through the Great Hall. Stiles stole a look at Scott who had his mouth wide open at the enchanted ceiling. He nudged his friend so he would pay attention. The first years pooled at the front where there was a dingy hat in place. Morrell took out a scroll and then began to call names.

“Martin, Lydia.”

Stiles made a keening noise beside Scott as the short redhead made her way to the front with a few hesitant steps. The hat was placed on her head and after a long pause.

“RAVENCLAW!”

Lydia jumped off the stool and headed to her respective house.

“Boyd, Vernon.”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Hale, Cora.”

Stiles grunted as the girl who had rudely refused to let them sit with her, knocked his shoulder. He clenched his jaw and began to picture her with warts coming out of her ears.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Stiles was not looking forward to having her as a housemate at all. Thankfully, the boys and girls were separated and he wouldn’t have to deal with her much except inside classes.

“Whittemore, Jackson.”

The hat barely touched Jackson’s head and it immediately shouted. “SLYTHERIN!”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Figures Jackson would be in Slytherin,” Stiles whispered to Scott. “Only dark and douchebag wizards get put there.” In a strange succession, three other boys, Danny Mahealani, Aiden Twine, and Matt Dalher got placed in Slytherin.

Two more people walked up and were placed in Hufflepuff, a girl with mousy blonde hair who was shaking down to her toes, and another shaken boy with sharp cheekbones and curly hair.

More people got called to the sorting hat until only three people were left, Scott, Stiles, and a boy named Bennett Smith.

“McCall, Scott.”

Stiles gave his friend a good shoulder clasp and watched him go to the stool. The hat stayed on his head for a few seconds.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Stiles clapped for his friend and smirked. Great, this meant he would be with Scott. Hopefully they shared the same room too. He couldn’t wait for the school year to begin to see what trouble they could cause. Stiles knew he was going to be placed into Gryffindor. The Stilinski’s were known for Gryffindor, not a single one had been placed into another house. Everyone knew that.

“Stilinski-“

“Ah that’s me,” Stiles rushed up before the professor could call his first name. It was not that he did not like it, the name just reminded him too much of his mother and he didn’t want to be known as the kid who broke down on the first day.

Stiles shoved the hat on his head and he grinned when he heard the voice inside his head. _“Oh a Stilinski, proud and brave Stilinski’s.”_

Stile spoke into the hat. _“C’mon just place me in Gryffindor already I’m starving!”_

_“Well you have the patience of a Gryffindor that’s for sure but you think first before you act…and you are clever very clever like a Ravenclaw. Hmm but there’s a loyalty and strong dedication there for friends that is too much Hufflepuff to ignore.”_

_“Wait what?”_ Stiles stood straight in his seat, not liking where this was going.

_“But ambitious and cunning and not afraid to get what you want.”_

“What?” Stiles could not believe what he was hearing.

 _“What is the matter? You know deep inside your head. I can see you want to be in it. It’s in your nature after all. Your mother held Slytherin qualities too…the famous bloodline of Silvias always do—”_ The hat mocked.

_“But-But-What-Put me in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff just—”_

_“You are too scatterbrained and loud to be in Ravenclaw. I am sure they will hang you outside a Quidditch post before the month ends. And Hufflepuffs would not find your sarcastic wit as amusing as you do.”_

“Wait!” Stiles was panting profusely now.

_“There is only one place for you!”_

“SLYTHERIN!”

The entire hall was silent. Stiles felt his heartbeat quickly pulsing against his neck. He felt Morrell remove the hat, but Stiles did not move. He glanced at the Slytherin table where they were sending him murderous glances for tainting the Slytherin House with his name. He then looked to the Gryffindor table and caught Scott’s eyes. The other boy seemed confused on what was happening, so he began clapping and then cheering.  “Woohoo! Go Stiles!” Scott yelled, seeming completely self-assured and unembarrassed. “Slytherin is an awesome house!” As if that broke the spell, Stiles broke out into a triumphant grin as he sauntered over to the Slytherin table. The rest of the hall broke into polite claps as Stiles made his way.

How stupid and how brave, Stiles thought as he sat down. Scott who had not even known him for a whole day, had stood up for him and it was a marvelous thing. It was one of the best things that had happened to Stiles since his mother passed away. Stiles smiled and sighed in relief. He made sure to sit with his back facing Scott so they could still talk to each other, ignored the glares, and the startled face of Jackson sitting in front of him.

The last boy, Bennett Smith went to the Sorting Hat and it placed him in Gryffindor.

When everyone was sorted, Headmaster Deaton went to the podium in front of the Great Hall. Everyone went completely silent as the man addressed them. “Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. I hope the year may be splendid to your young minds but I must make a few announcements. The Forbidden Forest as its name states—is forbidden. To the new students and to remind the old, the Whomping Willow tree is forbidden as well unless a student would like to be crushed by its trunk and branches. And I warn everyone to tread carefully at the brightest and fullest point at night. Other than that enjoy the feast.”

The food then appeared in large bundles on every house table where every student immediately launched at it. Stiles who was sitting across from Jackson already began animatedly talking to the boy named Danny. Stiles absentmindedly noted that Jackson did have the capacity to be nice. The other two boys in his year Matt and Aiden were quiet; however, it was most likely that Matt was shy and Aiden was separated from his twin. He ignored his housemates and grabbed from every direction taking in the joy that they had roasted potatoes.

Midway on shoveling a piece of potato and roast beef into his mouth, Stiles felt a tap at his shoulder. He jumped from shock causing him to choke on his food a bit which made everyone in the Slytherin table laugh. Stiles stuck his tongue out on everyone and turned around.

He saw Scott turned fully toward him with a plate of food on his lap. Stiles sagged in relief, grabbed his own plate and turned around on the bench.

“A stupid house rivalry isn’t going to ruin our friendship.” Scott laughed, jamming three meats into his mouth.

Stiles guffawed that he could still understand his friend through the food in his mouth and agreed. “Nope, plus now we go to each other’s common room now. I bet that’s never happened before.”

“Right, A lion in the pit of snakes. A snake in the den of lions.”

Stiles poked Scott with his fork. “More like a tiny little cub with a bunch of slimy Slytherins.”

“You do realize that’s an insult for you too, right?”

Stiles was about to comment that Slytherins and him were on two different levels, but he paused with his mouth hanging open as he saw Professor Morrell and Headmaster Deaton approaching them. At first Stiles, thought they were going to reprimanded for talking outside their houses but they stopped a bit before Scott, where Cora was sitting.

“Ms. Hale, please join us with your brother. We would like a word with both of you.” Deaton informed.

Cora cleaned her mouth neatly and stood to her feet. She followed the two.

“What was that about?” Scott asked.

Stiles shrugged. “Who cares!” And then he leaned closer to whisper. “Dear Mordred and Morgana I’m going to see Jackson naked!”

And unnoticed to Stiles, Scott followed the two Hales with his eyes. They headed to the front of the Great Hall, where there was a small door. Both of them looked like all happiness had been punched out of them and although they tried to hide it, Scott could see the recent loss of a family member hidden in their eyes. He turned back to Stiles and remembered to participate in the conversation.

“You’ll do fine!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you are enjoying the story so far! I'm enjoying writing it. Tell me what you thought of the Derek and Stiles interaction? Personally, I doubt Stiles would be very scared of a 13 year old Derek. But still tell me what you think.
> 
> Oh and my tumblr. [Twinklingpaopufruit](http://twinklingpaopufruit.tumblr.com/)


	3. First Weeks First Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott and Stiles try to figure out the semantics and rules of Hogwarts.

Stiles was huddled close to Jackson and the other first year Slytherin boys, not because he wanted but he really had no other choice. The other Slytherins were looking at them as if they were fresh meat and it was making Stiles a bit nervous. Jackson on his right was leaning his body close to Danny. Stiles didn’t know if that should comfort him or scare him more.

The five walked into Slytherin Common Room where the fifth year prefect directed them. Stiles looked around the spacious room. It was a little too dark for his tastes but he appreciated the structure in it and it was really a cool touch that they were underneath the Black Lake.

“All right newbies gather round.” The perfect announced with a grin. “We need to go over some ground rules. Ten to be exact.”

The older Slytherins already in the common room snickered and were perched on all the leather cushions watching them like prey.

“Seriously?” A small girl said, Stiles remembered briefly her name was Malia Tate. “Are you going to tell us to respect our elders?”

“No.” The older prefect said. “These are more like guidelines if you want to survive Hogwarts but we expect you to follow them to make our house look good. All right, Rule One for every rule there is a loophole. The fundamental basis of a Slytherin, you remember that and everything is simple.”

Stiles grinned and shared it with the other first years. Stiles didn’t expect to enjoy his house but if this was their mentality then bring it on!

“Rule Two: Never wear red and gold.”

Stiles expected that one-House Rivalry and all.

“Rule Three: Never get caught-none of us care if we break the rules, just don’t get caught. If caught, _Slytherin up_ and accept the consequences. Don’t repeat the same mistake.

Rule Four: If someone has to be blamed, make sure its not you.

Rule Five: Tantrums and exaggeration will get you by. Brutal planned revenge is better.

Rule Six: There are very few things that can’t have bets placed on them. Make sure you’re the one taking the bets.

Rule Seven: Have a ready witty quip at all times.

Rule Eight: Never argue with the point of a wand.

Rule Nine: Flattery will get you everywhere.

And Rule Ten: Remember, all kinds of trouble start off as fun. If any of you need help don’t be afraid to come for us older ones for help, bring compensation of course. We don’t work for free.”

All the first years took the information with much vigor and the prefect explaining the rules showed them which were the boy and girl dormitories. As Stiles and the rest of the first years began heading to their rooms, the prefect who was explaining all the rules stopped them “Oh and as a side note, our Head of House Professor Blake is a bitch to everyone even us-so stay clear or flatter her like there’s no tomorrow.”

The first years went down the corridor and Stiles entered the room first. There were five beds, two on one side and three on the other side pressed along a faded brown brick wall. The beds looked extremely gothic and screamed of ancient pureblood ancestry as the black metal bedposts rose and towered to the ceiling in sharp turns and small intricate designs. The bedposts had dark green heavy silk tied to them that matched the dark green bed sheets. In the middle of the room, an enchanted furnace permeated warmness. Which was good as the Slytherin common room had an air of permanent coldness. On the far side of the room, a neat mahogany window seat had about a dozen pillows in varying shades of green and silver making the windows pop with their view of the lake. It surprised Stiles that they had windows in the rooms and he briefly wondered if mermaids or grindylows looked through them.

He approached the farthest bed that was across from Jackson and diagonal from Danny. Aiden was on his right and on Aiden’s right was Matt.

“I can’t believe you got sorted into Slytherin.” Jackson spat immediately to Stiles as he opened his trunk and checked everything was there.

“Well Slytherin was recently lacking in the brain department. So...” Stiles answered.

“Slytherins are known to be as smart as Ravenclaws, you idiot,” Matt stated, kicking his shoes off. “So I have no idea what you are talking about.”

Jackson and Danny both laughed while Aiden grinned.

Stiles shot all four of them a glare and made over-exaggerated hand gestures at all of them.

“Oh c’mon Stilinski, don’t be that way. I take back what I said before I’m sure you are going to be perfect for this house.” Jackson snorted.

Stiles glared at Jackson. “ _Are-are you being sarcastic?_ Oh Merlin, no that’s-that’s my thing! You can’t take that away from me! But it wasn’t even that good to begin with—I mean there were so many possibilities that you could be sarcastic with me. Like say that we are going to get along splendidly and spend countless hours having tea parties while Danny frolics in a yellow dress while Matt takes pictures of us holding hands with quiet Aiden there.”

Everyone stared at Stiles with annoyance.

“Yellow isn’t really my color,” Danny announced abruptly. “I’ll wear a white and green dress.”

“You can wear whatever you want Danny,” Jackson encouraged. “Stiles can wear a red and gold dress and we’ll hang him above the Gryffindor Tower, where he obviously belongs.”

“Haha,” Stiles forced. “You guys are hilarious. You know what, you guys can expect that I won’t do you guys any favors!”

“Like we would come to you?” Jackson asked.

“You’re right because that would imply I give even the slightest care for you guys.”

“Stiles.” Aiden barked who had been quiet the entire time. “Shut. Up.”

Stiles turned quickly to him. “Are you threatening me?” He squawked.

“No he isn’t,” Jackson confirmed and approached Stiles in a few quick strides. He pulled out his wand, pointing it straight at Stiles. “I am. Now please shut up. I will try to promise to the best of my ability that I will not kill you by the end of the term if you can keep that mouth quiet.”

Stiles pouted, rolled his eyes, but nodded. He had known Jackson since they were both four. He knew by now that Jackson was not filled with empty threats. Jackson grinned and walked back to his bed where he started talking to Danny. Aiden began talking with Matt, leaving Stiles outcasted from the group. Great. He felt twitchy immediately without anyone to talk to or do, so he stood from his bed and headed to his trunk. He pulled a few things out, headed back to his bed, and pulled the drapes shut.

He dropped the large photo album into his lap while he chewed on a licorice wand. He looked through all the pictures where his eyes watered immediately as he saw the pictures of his mother. Some of the pictures were pictures of his parents when they had first met while some of them were just of him and his mother. Those made him bite his lip to stop the noises coming from his mouth. He traced his hand over a picture taken two years ago.

His mother was hugging him and waving at the camera while he played and tugged at her brown hair and the pendant filled with silver grains in the shape of a crescent moon hanging from her neck.

He breathed deeply. He would not cry today. He placed the picture back in the album gently and shut the book. He grabbed the other book he had brought with him and began to read about Gnome Fungus Removal. It was truly a rivetting and useless topic which made it perfect.

Three hours had passed where silence surrounded the dorm room. Stiles peeked through the drapes and saw everyone asleep. As quietly as he could, he climbed off the bed—which was not quiet at all—taking with him to the floor the box of licorice wands and the books. He hastily looked up and saw the others boys stir slightly but not wake from the noise. He let out a shaky breath and placed his licorice wand under his bed, his photo album in between the mattress, and everything else back in his trunk. He pulled out his pajamas and went to the bathroom to go get ready for bed. As he brushed his teeth, the only thing he could think was that he hoped Scott was having fun.

|~~***~~|

“Dude we have Defense, Potions, and Flying together!” Scott exclaimed as they received their schedules the following morning.

Stiles looked at his paper excitedly, “I have Astronomy, Transfiguration, and History with the Ravenclaws!” Stiles cheered, placing his schedule into the light to make sure he read that right.

“Uh what does that mean?” Scott asked, taking a bite of his toast.

Both of them were seated in the same position they were in, when they were eating in the Great Hall during dinner. A few people kept shooting them nasty looks as they had to squeeze by them to walk properly, but Scott and Stiles were hardly fazed as students walked by them.

“What-what does this mean?” Stiles stuttered. “Lydia Martin is a Ravenclaw! I get to see her there in all her strawberry blonde glory! This sets forth my plan to get with her before I leave Hogwarts!”

“You wish Stilinski!” Jackson called from where he was biting into a piece of bacon.

“No one asked you!” Stiles called without looking back.

Scott rolled his eyes at both of them.

“How were the other Gryffindors?” Stiles asked, changing the subject.  

Scott shrugged. “Not bad. Bennett Smith and Sean Long have no filter so they kind of say a few mean things once in a while. But it’s funny cause they really do say everything that’s on their mind. I learned so much about Sean that I really did not want to know. And Ethan is probably the coolest out of all of them. He has this action figure of a Hungarian Horntail and he accidentally set it loose in the dorm. Bennett’s and Ethan’s drapes are burnt to a crisp now and Sean is missing his right eyebrow.”

“Wow,” Stiles stated, monotone. “What a night.”

Scott noticed the slight twinge of hurt in his voice and Scott was quick to put together that Stiles did not have a night like that. He spent it with the Slytherins. A place where Stiles belonged perfectly and none at all. He was about to ask how his night went when he felt Ethan come toward him.

“Hey Scott c’mon we have Transfiguration with the Hufflepuffs. Let’s go scare them.”

Scott laughed. He gave Stiles a good shake. “Hey cheer up, you see Lydia first thing in the morning in History!”

“Yeah,” Stiles sighed. “Go, have fun. I should be going too.”

|~~***~~|

Scott walked to Herbology as soon as Transfiguration was over as he talked with Ethan. They were grateful they didn’t have to walk far as they were quick to realize that Hogwarts was a maze. They walked to Greenhouse #1 where they already saw the Ravenclaws sitting on the benches.

“How the hell did the Ravenclaws get here before us? They have History first period.” Scott asked.

“The Ravenclaws are mental.” Ethan stated as all the Gryffindors sat behind the Ravenclaws who had taken all the seats up front.

Scott looked at all of the Ravenclaws and he only saw a few familiar faces. One being Lydia Martin, Greenberg, Harley Harlowe, and Kara Simmons, the other Ravenclaws looked like complete strangers to him.

“Ok students, take your seats!”

Everyone looked to Professor Morrell, Head of Hufflepuff House, as she walked in with an elegant royal blue wizard robe that had a sheer fuchsia cape that trailed around her. She dropped her bag by her desk with a loud thunk. She clasped her hands in front of her, smiling kindly to everyone.

“Welcome to your first lesson in Herbology. I am meant to go over safety procedures with all of you on the first day of class but I’m not going to do that. Merely remember this; if it bites, stings, or can reach your knee—flee. Also if it sings or tears cover your ears.” Morrell instructed, “Understood?” There was a chorus of ‘yes professor.’ “Good, we will be focusing on lectures for your first year so everyone please take out a quill and parchment.”

She walked over to where there was a blackboard on the far side. She pulled out her wand to clean the board from last lesson and then began writing down the word aconite on the board.

“Now can anyone tell me what aconite is?” Morrell asked the class.

Scott noticed there were only two people who raised their hands, Cora and Lydia. Cora though was quicker so Morrell called upon the girl. Lydia shot the girl a quick glare.

“Aconite or better known as monskhood or wolfsbane is a poisonous plant to wizards and witches alike but more commonly used against werewolves. Small doses can hamper motor skills and cause hallucinations but large quantities can kill.”

“Good Ms. Hale. Five points to Gryffindor.”

“Good job!” Scott nudged Cora who was sitting in front of him. The girl rolled her eyes and continued paying attention to the lesson.

“Does anyone know how can aconite’s effects be reversed?”

Lydia raised her hand before Cora. “Aconite can be burned using fire and then deposited on whatever wound that was first caused by aconite. However if it is not burned enough it can kill and even if it’s burned properly can cause excruciating pain that has been known to kill some patients.”

“Five points to Ravenclaw. As witches and wizards none of you will have to worry about aconite unless you swallow it but I am teaching this first plant as it is the first plant on the list of dangerous and poisonous plants. We will start with those this quarter and move to more docile plants later in the year that can be used for healing. Now everyone turned to the first page of chapter five in your books.”

|~~***~~|

Stiles had waited throughout the entire day to when he would be seeing Lydia again. She was amazing to look at in History where the sun was still rising and shining through the windows. It gave her a perfect reddish glow around her head. Now, he was in Transfiguration where he was sitting behind her only half listening to Professor Jennifer Blake who also happened to be head of his house.

Class was a bit boring, but Professor Blake made it interesting enough by showing them hands on what they would be doing, by changing animals into water goblets and plates. She even went the extra mile by showing them advanced transfiguration as she changed into a dark brown fox. Everyone clapped at the display. She changed back swiftly and sauntered through the walkways.

“Transfiguration is a very systematic, exact magical discipline,” Professor Blake said. “So do not expect it to be an easy subject.”

Stiles scoffed and continued looking at Lydia. It was not until Matt who was sitting next to him taking notes, accidentally spilled his ink goblet onto Stiles unopened notebook. Stiles made more of a commotion than necessary and jumped out of his seat disturbing the class. And Matt the ever fucker Slytherin he was proving to be, had to possess no stain magic ink. The ink disappeared right as Professor Blake approached.

“Is there a problem Mr. Stilinski?” Blake asked.

“No uh-“ Stiles stuttered.

“Perhaps you would like to show the class of your transfiguration skills since you like disturbing it so much. Follow me.”

Stiles got up hesitantly. At the front of the class there was a box filled with about thirty matchsticks by a beautiful flask that Professor Blake had been drinking at the beginning of class. “Your job is to transfigure one into a needle. If you can do that then you are free from detention.”

“Wait what? That’s not fair! I don’t even know the spell!”

“ _Mutatio Lignum_ ,” Lydia supplied, looking at the scene with bored interest.

Stiles looked at the matches with trepidation. He pulled from his head all the books he read in his home library and remembered the spell next to the spell of making hedgehogs into pushpin cushions. He pictured the spell quickly in his mind, measured the force of his swishing, and took in two more variables as he worked at the math in his head.

He swirled his wrist once and tapped near the box two times, “ _Mutatio Lignum_.”

Stiles closed his eyes once he uttered the spell. He expected the detention that was sure to come, but when he opened his eyes, he saw all thirty matchsticks into needles.

“Good job, Mr. Stilinski go sit down.” Professor Blake seethed through clenched teeth.

Stiles was shocked at his own spellwork but when he looked to Lydia, she was looking at him with curiosity. Stiles cockily grinned and took his seat beside Matt. He felt proud and not even Jackson glaring holes into the back of his head was going to ruin his good mood.

|~~***~~|

It was Friday and Scott and Stiles were walking near the Quidditch Stadium for their flying class. It was the only class that all houses had together and met only once a week. Scott wished it could have been for more days, anything to get rid of Potions. Professor Harris, head of Ravenclaw, who hated all Gryffindors. Scott didn’t know how he was meant to cope with it for seven years. He secretly hoped that he got a T on his OWL in his fifth year so he didn’t have to deal with it.

“Are you excited? I’m excited!” Stiles said in his chirpy tone. “Flying is going to be amazing. I just wish the Slytherins didn’t have to be here.”

“You are Slytherin.”

“Eh lets ignore all the logistics for the moment.”

“Have you told your dad yet?” Scott asked, sitting on the grass as they waited for Professor Finstock who has head of Gryffindor and a Charms Professor as well. Stiles sat across from him.

“Are you kidding? He will kill me! He sent me an owl on the second day saying how proud he was and he knows I’m going to do great! He thinks I’m in freakin great Gryffindor. I can’t ruin the happy picture in my dad’s head! It’s like ripping out his soul and I am not a Dementor.”

“You are going to have to sooner or later…”

Stiles shrugged. “I don’t have an owl.”

“I’ll lend you Posey.”

“Scott. You are missing the point that I am trying to find any excuse to not reply back to my dad.”

Scott nudged Stiles. “I’m not. I just don’t think your dad will care!”

Stiles scoffed.

Scott pulled apart the grass avoiding Stiles’ gaze. “Well I kind of asked my mom about him and she said he’s really nice with all the times he shows up in St. Mungos. She says she’s his personal healer now and she says he always talks about you.”

“That I screw everything up?”

“No that he loves you.”

“Yeah…” Stiles said disbelieving.

“All right you brain dead witches and wizards!” Everyone in the clearing turned to Professor Finstock as he came walking to them. “There are brooms in the cupboard over there grab one and line up in lines of two. Go move it!” He shouted and blew into his whistle. Everyone grimaced at the obnoxious noise.

Everyone rushed to the cupboard to grab a broom. No one wanted to get stuck with the crappy ones that barely rose a foot off the ground. Stiles being closest to the cupboard, ran and saw a Nimbus 2000 and thought he scored big time for finding that in a cupboard of more than a century old broomsticks. He reached forward to grab it but an even smaller figure than him grabbed it before he could. He looked at the girl and recognized her as Cora Hale. She smirked at him as she showed off the broom as she walked back to Finstock. Stiles glared at her and picked a random broom heading back too.

The Slytherins and Ravenclaws were on one side while the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors were opposite, although Stiles disregarded that and stood next to Scott.

“All right you pestering first years. I’m going to teach you how to ride a broom now don’t be an idiot and try to show off. A kid about three years ago tried too and he ended up flying toward the wards. I can’t tell you how hard it was to find all his missing pieces!”

Scott gulped and stood up straighter. He could see Jackson and Aiden both sniggering and he realized why Stiles did not like them very much.

“Everyone go onto the left side of your broomsticks. Hurry up we don’t have all day! Stick your right hand over the broomstick and say ‘UP’!”

Simultaneous shouts of ‘up’ were heard and only two people were successful on their first try, Jackson and Cora. Scott had to shout five more times for it to go into his hand and Stiles only yelled three before it jumped to his, though Scott was not sure that counted since the broom was aiming for his face. Stiles was just fast enough to catch it before it did. Other people were not so lucky. Lydia was threatening her broom to get the hell off the ground, but it was not even rolling. A Hufflepuff girl named Erica Reyes had her broom knock her to her feet; Boyd though was there to help her get back up. Another Hufflepuff, Isaac Lahey had his broom turn on him and smack him against the back.

After about five minutes, everyone got his or her broom up and Professor Finstock was continuing the next part of the lesson. He showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked down correcting their grips. Scott and Stiles were not pleased when Finstock commented that Jackson had the most perfect grip he had ever seen on a first year.

“Now, when I blow my whistle, kick off from the ground, hard! Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle—three—two—“

It wasn’t so surprising that nervous and jumpy Ravenclaw Greenberg was the one who pushed up before everyone else and went like a rocket toward the Quidditch posts.

“Hey Greenberg get back here!” Finstock yelled.

It was an eventful show watching Finstock trying to get Greenberg out of the Quidditch post. Scott wanted to laugh but he felt somewhat bad, the others had no problem. He looked to the Hufflepuffs and only saw three students who were looking at Greenberg with sympathy.

He wondered if they had ever been in the same predicament, but he knew that Boyd and Erica were muggleborn so he was not sure how they could understand. He shrugged it off and saw Finstock announce that he was going to take Greenberg to the Hospital Wing. He warned everyone to not touch his or her brooms and left.

But leaving a bunch of eleven year olds hyped up to fly, they did exactly the opposite. It was Cora who broke the rule first. She flew up into the sky with accurate precision and Jackson followed after her, determined to not be beat. Stiles nudged Scott and told him he would teach him what he knew so they flew into the sky next. Others were quick to imitate except the same three Hufflepuffs and all the Ravenclaws.

Scott rose about five feet off the ground and Stiles grabbed hold of his broom teaching him how to maneuver it correctly. Scott felt a rush of pride as he was able to pick on it quickly and he was immensely grateful that even if Stiles did not know much was teaching him everything he knew. Scott let out a loud chuckle that Stiles returned and although they weren’t that high, began to chase each other.

“Aw, McCall don’t go too high now or you might fall!” Jackson teased, who was fifteen feet above them.

Scott did his best to ignore him and continued following Stiles. Jackson though took this as a sign to continue. “Stilinski do you need me to call your mommy so you can get down.”

Scott saw the rage flow behind Stiles eyes when Jackson immediately mentioned his mother. He was scared what his friend might do and he as sure did not want them to start a fight when they weren’t close to the ground. Stiles pulled his broom upwards until he was near Jackson and everyone turned to see how this would pan out.

 _“Shut up Whittemore!”_ Surprisingly, it wasn’t Stiles who shouted.

Everyone turned to Cora Hale who flew to both of them. “Or what Hale you are going to try to knock me off my broom?” Jackson spat out.

Cora flew to him quickly and collided with Jackson. Scott saw the second that Jackson let go of his broom and began to fall. Cora flew after him and caught him three feet off the ground with her own broom. “I would suggest not calling people out on their families when your own are dead too Whittemore.” Cora hissed. Scott watched her look off into the distance before she flew to the ground. Jackson fell onto his stomach and Lydia was there quickly to make sure he was uninjured.

Cora was amazing. She reacted so quickly to everything and she flew like a pro to catch Jackson on time. He watched her walk to the Ravenclaws and set her broom on the ground beside them. However not a second later, Finstock came back and saw the multitude of students on brooms. He gave them all detention, this included Scott and Stiles.

|~~***~~|

It was around October when Scott and Stiles were studying in the courtyard. Scott would have much preferred to study in the library or in his common room by the fire but Stiles said he got too distracted in the library and he hated his own common room. So Scott was there to please his friend.

Both of them were currently going through their charms homework that Professor Finstock had left them. There were merely a series of questions on why it was important for precise wand movement and correct pronunciation.

“Hey what did you put for reason three on why you should hold your wand correctly?” Scott asked, looking over Stiles shoulder where he was reading.

“Huh?”

Scott repeated his question.

“Oh um it’s a safety precaution so your wand won’t splinter.” Stiles said bemused.

“Thanks.” Scott wrote it down. It was then he noticed that Stiles didn’t have his homework out and wasn’t even reading the charms book. “Dude you finished? Why didn’t you tell me?! You know I’ve been struggling with this assignment all week.”

Stiles looked up in between biting his nails. “Oh no I haven’t started. It’s all up here. I’ll work on it tomorrow.”

“It’s due tomorrow,” Scott reminded him.

“Yeah, I know,” Stiles said and went back to his book.

“What are you reading then?” Scott asked.

“A book on blast-ended Skrewts. Did you know they were mated from a manticore and a fire crab? I’m trying to find out how the wizard made them mate. I feel bad for the firecrab but I think the manticore must have taken the brute force because I can’t imagine any animal willing to go into the rear end of another animal that shoots fire.” Stiles chuckled.

“Why are you reading that? Not that I’m surprised that out of all people at Hogwarts you would be the one to pick a book about the mating habits of a deadly scorpion that shoots fire..”

Stiles smiled. “It’s interesting and its the only book I’ve been able to focus on this week. When I’m done with it maybe I’ll get around to doing homework.”

Scott shook his head. “You are insufferable.”

“Great word, where did you learn that from?”

“Ethan.”  

Stiles nudged him playfully. “You’re an idiot.” He joked. He set the book back in his bag and pulled out his wand where he then proceeded to practice the Lumos spell that they were meant to get by next week for DADA. Stiles had only been able to produce a small fizzle of light, while Scott had practically blinded everyone the first time he had tried it. Scott tried to guide Stiles through the spell, but Stiles just didn’t have the concentration. He stopped after ten minutes, lest he accidentally set his wand alight like Ethan had done last night in the dorms.

Stiles then proceeded to levitate Scott’s ink goblet as Scott tried to finish all his questions. He only had two left which was amazing because he still had to write an essay for potions on the 12 uses of dragon blood.

It was then several things happened at once that Scott did not know where to look. There were a group of fifth year Slytherins walking by in front of them, the sound of something tearing, and then a shrill shriek of a boy screaming. They turned their attention to the Slytherins and their eyes bulged out as they saw one of the Slytherin boys had had his robes cut open and pooling on the floor in shreds where he stood only wearing white boxers with snitches flying around.

Scott and Stiles immediately began to crack up as they watched the Slytherin turn a bright shade of red. The fifth year Slytherin stalked for his prey. “Who in Merlin’s name did this?!” The Slytherin shrieked.

Scott looked around too. There weren’t that many people in the courtyard at this time of day. It was only him with Stiles, Boyd sitting a few feet away who had his nose stuck in a History book, and four third year Ravenclaws who were gossiping about something they read in _Witch Weekly_. The only person though was Stiles who had his wand out. Shit.

“Was it you?!” The Slytherin boy shouted, stomping over to them.

“What?!” Stiles squeaked, shoving his wand out of sight. “I don’t know what you are talking about!”

“You ripped my robes!” The Slytherin shouted, grabbing Stiles by the collar of his shirt.

Stiles reared back as much as could. “As much as I love this housemate bonding moment, I didn’t rip your robes, nice underwear though. Maybe it was someone passing by.”

“Oh yeah, like I’m supposed to believe that!”

“Right you think I’m doing rule three of the Slytherin guidelines. Wow, I did not expect these rules to bite me in the ass so quickly” Stiles laughed nervously. “Though I can’t expect a Slytherin with the brain of a troll to comprehend the idiocy of a first year attacking a fifth year. The first year would obviously suffer a fate worse than swimming with the giant squid in the Black Lake. And I obviously wouldn’t put myself through that.”

Scott looked in all directions hoping to spot a staff member so they could help, but no one was there and he was not sure how long Stiles’ sarcastic wit was going to hold the rest off. “Um he didn’t do it,” Scott supplied.

“Shut up, Gryffindor!”

“He didn’t!” Scott shouted.

“Well then who did?” The Slytherin hissed.

Scott looked to Stiles to see what excuse he could come up with, but he remained abnormally quiet. Stiles was never quiet. He wondered if the Slytherin boy had scared him enough to break him. But then he saw a gleam shine behind his friend’s eyes.

“Yeah you’re right, I did it.” Stiles announced.

Scott nearly fell. “What? No you didn’t.”

“I did,” Stiles confessed. The Slytherin let him go, shocked that Stiles was confessing his crime. Slytherins never confessed. “Now what?”

“I-I-“ The Slytherin stuttered.

“Well if that’s all you have to say, then Scott and I will be going.” Stiles stated. He picked up his book bag slowly and clutched Scott’s arm. Scott took that as a sign to get his stuff as well. They left the Transfiguration courtyard at a sedated, cautious pace until they were out of eyesight and then suddenly ran up the stairs to the second floor. The Slytherin got a sense of his bearings  after they left and without a second thought, transfigured his robes messily and proceeded to chase Scott and Stiles.

Scott and Stiles took off running as fast as they could. They ran past several other students, knocking them along the way purely on accident causing students to fall in the hallway or stairs and several papers to float along the corridor.

When they reached the third floor, Scott saw the second year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws exiting the Charms classroom.

“Merlin’s balls!” Stiles exclaimed as a blockade was coming their way.

“C’mon,” Scott urged.

They tried to push through and the blockade seemed to be working in their favor as the Slytherins were struggling to get through as well.

“Oh fuck!” Stiles shouted, as he lost his footing. He fell to the floor face first. Scott panicked. He rushed to his friend to grab him but Stiles was frozen on the ground. He had fallen right in front of Cora Hale’s brother, Derek. Derek was unamused and was looking at Stiles as if he was a piece of Never-Ending Flavor Gum stuck to his shoe. Scott kneeled down cautiously to pick up Stiles without breaking eye contact with Derek.

“Get back here Stilinski!” The Slytherin shouted bloody murder.

Derek rolled his eyes and stepped to the side, letting them pass. They both sagged in relief and began running again. They didn’t stop until they reached Gryffindor Tower. “Excalibur! Excalibur!” Scott shouted to the portrait, letting them through right as the Slytherin boys began catching up.  Luckily, the portrait hole closed in time.

“That was close,” Scott panted, finally catching his breath. “What the hell was that for? You didn’t do it!”

“I know,” Stiles wheezed, lying on the floor, stomach first. “But did you see their looks? Priceless.” He grinned and it reminded Scott of a Cornish Pixie.

“But you didn’t do it!”

Stiles sat up and looked around the Gryffindor common room. Scott realized that it was the first time that Stiles had ever stepped place in here and he looked a bit off with his green robes amongst all the red.

“Why did you do it?” Scott wanted an answer. He did not run seven flights of stairs so Stiles could stay quiet.

Stiles turned to him. “I told my dad I was in Slytherin last week.”

Scott felt winded with the conversation change, but Stiles did them often enough that Scott felt he should really start getting used to them. “And?”

“He said he knew since my second day here. He said he was proud.”

“That’s good, right? I told you, he loves you.”

“Nah, you don’t get it Scott.” Stiles stood. “I wanted him to be angry or something. He’s been really nice after my mom died and I can tell it’s really forced. I want him to show what he’s really thinking. I want him to react with what he’s really feeling.” He punctuated with a wave of his arms.

“Stiles—“

“That’s why I told the Slytherin boy I did it. I figured, why don’t I start a name for myself. Pranking. Prank the entire school even the staff!”

“That could get you suspended,” Scott said, trying to be the voice of reasoning. But he could tell he was already failing. Stiles had already made up his mind.

“I won’t do anything illegal, just a few pranks here and there to get a few detentions. It will be amazing. Hey, maybe I’ll even start pranking Jackson. It will be easy since we live in the same room...Ugh but this means I have to study more to make time for really good pranks. Well whatever... I’m going to do it and you’re going to help me!”

“What?! Why me?”

“Cause you’re my best friend. You are practically entitled to do so. What do you say? It will be fun.”

Scott looked at Stiles with a straight face. He didn’t want to get in trouble. He knew his mother would kill him if he got into anything serious, but he really did want to have some fun. First year was getting a bit boring with just schoolwork. He sighed and looked to his friend. “Fine. But you have to promise me you are staying at my house for winter break. My mom already said your dad can stay too.”

“Hell yeah,” Stiles shouted. “We can plan pranks at your house. This going to epic! Like Founding Fathers epic!” He chuckled loudly where his entire shoulders shook.

Scott looked at Stiles with bemusement. This was the first time he saw him genuinely laughing and it made Scott just want to hug his friend. So he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the subscriptions, bookmarks, comments, and kudos. They mean so much to me and it really has given me so much inspiration to write. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Tell me what you thought about it so I can keep writing. 
> 
> To find out who ripped the Slytherin robes: read [Character Profiles in Teen Wolf](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1369558)
> 
> My Tumblr: [TwinklingPaopuFruit](http://twinklingpaopufruit.tumblr.com/)


	4. Pranksters and Escapees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Stiles and Scott set their names as the pranksters of Hogwarts they find out about the Hales.

Surprisingly winter break came quickly. With studying for midterms and turning in last minute projects, Stiles hadn’t had time to bother looking at a calendar. But once all that stress had passed, Stiles was looking forward to Scott’s home for the winter break. He had not stopped jumping even when when Scott’s mom came to pick them up at King’s Cross.

He had never interacted with muggle technology. He was constantly surrounded by magic because his father was a pureblood and while his mother wasn’t, she choose to live closer to the magical world than the muggle one. So when Melissa finally parked the car in the driveway, Stiles stared at Scott’s house in amazement.

It was much much smaller than the manor, but judging from the similar houses along the street, Scott’s house was average.

The three went inside and Stiles again looked at everything with amazement. Everything was mostly muggle technology and Stiles curiosity wanted to poke at everything.

“C’mon!” Scott said throwing his trunk at the entrance. Stiles left his there’s too and ran up the stairs behind Scott. Looking around with wide eyes, Stiles tried to drink in everything as much as possible. The unmoving portraits in the hallway and the strange white cones sticking out of the wall emitting light, perplexed Stiles, but when he saw they were in Scott’s room his attention was grabbed elsewhere.

The room was spacious enough but it was much less lavish and much smaller than Stiles’ room, but it was still nice. The fabrics on the bed were silky soft and a deep monotone earth color. The walls were a warm yellow, and the floor was rich wood but mostly covered by several muggle clothes and carpets thrown around.

“So you’ll be sleeping in here, the bed is big enough for both of us. I hope that’s cool with you.” Scott explained, sitting down at his desk.

“Yeah.”

“Cool. What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never been in a muggle home.”

“Well we can play some video games. I should have Mario Kart somewhere…” Scott stood and went over to his bookshelf. Nothing was blatantly organized and after some shuffling, Scott finally found it.

“What’s that?

“Trust me, you’ll love it.” Scott said.

They headed to the living room where Scott began fumbling with the TV. Stiles just stared at the screen with shock. He heard about television but he never thought he would see one. This was freaking amazing. “Mordred, there are little people in the telly!” Stiles exclaimed.

Melissa walked into the living room. “Not little people. They are waves traveling across the air and delivering a signal to the television.”

Stiles ducked and looked at the ceiling.

“You can’t see them,” Scott said, plugging in the two remote controls. He threw one to Stiles who caught it awkwardly.

“Then how is it possible? You guys don’t have magic.”

“Muggle technology,” Melissa said. “Are you boys going to be good on your own?” Scott nodded. “Ok well I left some leftovers in the fridge. I shall be back late so don’t wait up. I got assigned the late night shift at the emergency ward again.”

“Oh man,” Scott commented. “Ok well I’ll make something and leave it in the microwave when you get home.”

Melissa smiled and kissed Scott goodbye. “Watch him, please.” Melissa said, pointing to Stiles.

“Hey!” Everyone rose their brow. “Yeah you’re right.”

“Have fun at work.”

Melissa left via floo, leaving the two boys. When Scott finally started the game Stiles was honestly shocked by everything. He rammed his fingers on the buttons as the two raced down complicated tracks. Scott laughed. Stiles couldn’t be happier and was grateful for having someone with him this break.

Ever since his mother passed away, Stiles felt more alone than ever especially at home. His father rarely was there being Head Auror and all. So having a three story manor to himself was not fun at all. Stiles spent most of it in their library or outside playing quidditch by himself. His father had once asked him to spend some time at the Whittemore Manor to befriend Jackson, but then Stiles kindly reminded his father what happened last time him and Jackson spent quality time together.

To this day, his father still didn’t understand how two eight year old boys had flooded an entire floor in the Whittemore Manor to about six feet, had garden gnomes trying to gnaw both boys’ legs while in the water, convinced the house elves to cause a small hurricane on that same flooded floor, and somehow break the ceiling with a shoe alone. When John Stilinski had arrived to pick Stiles’ up, he saw his son covered in several bruises and dripping wet. John tried to apologize to Jackson’s uncle and aunt profusely and agreed to pay for the damage. To that day, Stiles didn’t like hanging out with Jackson very much.

So Stiles spent much of his childhood alone after his mother passed away when he was nine. He hadn’t had any real social interaction until he met Scott in Diagon Alley. He was eternally grateful for the other boy and Scott’s mother. Both of them accepted him into his home with all his faults and still cared for him. It was not a new feeling as he felt loved with his own father, but adding more parties to the comfort made Stiles feel less alone.

|~~***~~|

Midway through March, Stiles couldn’t stop shaking as dinner approached. He glanced at his best friend. Scott was acting the same way. It had taken them all of winter break and another two months to research and perfect the spell they wanted to use for the perfect prank.

Stiles wanted to create a spectacular name for himself and what better way to do it than in front of the entire school. When it was around five o’clock, Stiles grabbed Scott’s Gryffindor tie and hauled him out of his seat.

They rushed to the Great Hall and waited. It wouldn’t take long for other students to arrive. Stiles nearly squealed when he spotted the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins. They were the closest to the Great Hall so it made perfect sense for them to come first. Scott and Stiles waited at the top of the balcony above the Great Hall and watched the commotion occur.

It was a sixth year Slytherin boy who tried to enter first. As soon as he stepped foot inside, a shimmering barrier knocked him back two feet. Everyone froze in fright. Everyone turned to the sixth year and then immediately began to laugh.

A frilly pink ball gown, a blonde wig, and golden tiara adorned the sixth year. The sixth year stood to his feet and panicked, everyone began to laugh more, most ignoring the shimmering number two that was floating in between the Great Hall doors.

It was then that another student attempted to enter the Great Hall. This time it was a fourth year Hufflepuff girl. Again she was flung back because of the barrier, and like the sixth year Slytherin panicked. She shrieked and pulled at her costume, trying to get it off but it wouldn’t budge. The girl had oversized blue overalls, a red shirt, an oversized red cap, and a fake furry mustache. And again, many ignored the floating number between the Great Hall, shimmering a number three.

Stiles barked with laughter and thanked Merlin for Scott’s introduction to video games. Stiles had taken Scott’s Mario speed racer games with much vigor and thought the silly costumes of Mario and Princess Peach were perfect.

By the time the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors had arrived from their towers, about twenty students had tried to get through the barrier with no avail and now several boys were dressed as Princess Peach and several girls as Mario.

“What’s going on!” A Slytherin cried.

“This is an outrage!” Another student.

“Who's doing this! I just want dinner!” A Hufflepuff exclaimed.  Ah, leave it to the Hufflepuffs to think with their stomachs.

Again several people tried to go through the doors but no one could get through. It was then they noticed that as every student tried to pass, the numbers between the doors would change going all the way up to four and then returning to one. The students began to grow restless demanding to be served dinner but nothing was working. By the time the entire school was at the Great Hall entrance, several staff members tried to remove the spell, but couldn’t when the spell did not affect them at all. All staff members were able to pass through the doors and head to the staff table.

After Headmaster Deaton arrived, many thought the enchantment would be removed but when he passed through, he gave his students a smirk and left the students at the entrance.

“Oh my god,” Scott wheezed. “This is the best thing we’ve ever done.”

“Ready to start clue-ing them in?” Stiles asked.

Scott stood to his feet and both descended the stairs arm in arm. When they arrived at the entrance, everyone looked at them expectantly. The shimmering number was at one so Scott and Stiles came at the perfect time. They took a step forward and immediately, two white clouds with an animated face emerged.

Everyone stood still.

Scott and Stiles beamed at each other. They jumped onto the clouds, bouncing a bit, before the cloud flew into the sky and passed them through the barrier.  

Immediately, everyone began screaming and pounded on the barrier.

“Get over here Stilinski!” Jackson shouted.

“Nah,” Stiles joked. He couldn’t take Jackson very seriously in a pink and blonde wig so he spurted several times before speaking. “You know I think pink might be your color.”

Jackson screeched.

Lydia Martin who had been examining the numbers with curiosity waited until the crowd settled down. The number was on three. Lydia immediately understood. She grinned. She marched along to the front, parting the crowd. Stiles was impressed that such a small girl had so much power.

She grabbed Jackson and together they stepped forward. From the sky two clouds emerged again. Lydia took Jackson’s hand to climb on the cloud, which was fucking ridiculously hilarious because Jackson was pouting through the wig and dress. Lydia sat on her cloud, crossing her legs in front of her. Jackson took his own cloud and together the cloud took them through the barrier. Whatever magic that had been placed on Jackson, disappeared as soon as he was in the Great Hall and returned to his school robes.

Lydia gracefully jumped off the cloud and walked to Stiles. “Next time, make a more difficult pattern.” She commanded. She walked to the lone Ravenclaw table and waited for the others to get the hint.

After Lydia’s stunt, many Ravenclaws figured it out. Many of them grabbed a Slytherin and two by two entered the Great Hall on a floating cloud. However, leave it to an impatient Gryffindor to ruin the pattern. He tried to go by himself and the number shifted to a four.

Everyone groaned and tried to figure out the pattern again. By the time they did, Gryffindors walked with Ravenclaws and Slytherins with Hufflepuffs. After another pattern change back to one, where it paired Hufflepuff with Ravenclaw and Gryffindor with Slytherin many students began laughing as daring Gryffindors soon discovered they could control the cloud. They soared high into the air, flipped, and twirled until they were thrown into the Great Hall.

After that, everyone began to forget their anger and their prolonged wait for dinner. Several students rushed out to test the cloud for fun. Stiles and Scott were one of them. They jumped onto the cloud on their stomachs and raced about the front of the Great Hall.

The commotion died down after about half an hour and both Scott and Stiles were thrumming with a job well done. It wasn’t until both of them received a shoulder tap at the Gryffindor table, that the joy wore off.

Professor Finstock and Blake were both behind them.

“Detention?” Stiles asked.

“Detention.” Blake said.

“Great…” Scott and Stiles said in tandem.

The next day both boys were in the trophy room cleaning everything the muggle way. In between wiping a trophy for best seeker, Stiles made eye contact with Scott. “Totally worth it.” Stiles said. Scott couldn’t agree more.

|~~***~~|

When Scott arrived at Stiles’ home for the summer, he expected a nice home with a freshly mowed lawn, not a frickin McMansion with a lawn that rivaled Scott’s entire block. The Stilinski manor was huge and Scott could not grasp how Stiles lived here with his father.

Both of them were currently in Stiles’ room that was nearly three times the size of Scott’s. Scott had his own bed and dresser and he felt slightly as if he was imposing on the place not being pureblood and all. But after Stiles informed him off his halfblood status, Scott felt much better.

Both of them played in Stiles’ huge backyard playing Quidditch for most of the summer. The other days were spent running around the hallways of the manor trying not to knock over expensive antiques. And the rest spent in the library.

On the first day there, Scott was utterly confused by Stiles’ organization arrangements. His friend was nowhere near messy but he had the strangest organization structure he had ever seen. Instead of placing his clothes in his dresser, Stiles had several books and papers inside the cabinets. His clothes were all sporadically placed neatly on top of his bookshelf, by the windowsill, and in the cabinets of his nightstand.

Scott nearly had a heart attack when he was going through Stiles’ closet and several socks flew in midair and a garden gnome came charging at Scott.

Scott fell onto his butt.

“Mitzy!” Stiles shouted, when he saw the garden gnome. “What are you doing in here?”

Scott looked up at Stiles who was coming out of the attached bathroom with a bit of toothpaste on the side of his cheek. He grabbed Mitzy by the legs and shook the gnome upside down. Said gnome, was not amused and grumbled unintelligibly.

“Do I dare even ask?” Scott stood shakily to his feet looking at the gnome.

“His name is Mitzy. Since our family doesn’t have a house elf I was trying to train the gnome last year but he kind of disappeared on me. Glad to know he’s still here. Hey do you want to play gnome racing?”

“What’s that?

“The best fricking game ever invented. C’mon.” Stiles said, tucking the gnome under his arm.

Scott rolled his eyes but nodded and followed his friend into the garden. Gnome racing to put it simply was messy and kind of painful as the gnomes kept biting their calves and ankles but it was hilariously fun. No one really knew who won in the end as they had both been cheating. But it was freaking amazing. He did feel slightly guilty though when Stiles’ dad had come early and both gnomes had escaped their grasp and charged at John.

But other than that, Scott was looking forward to coming over every summer to the Stilinski Manor and looking forward to the next six years of Hogwarts.

|~~***~~|

Second year came quickly for Scott and Stiles that they were thrown for a loop. They departed off the Hogwarts Express and followed the crowd to take them to the carriages. It was the first time Stiles had ever paid attention to the carriages and he was not sure why he had not paid attention last year. But they were there for everyone to see. They were massive, black, and skeletal. They looked like broken winged horses sent from the depths of Morgana’s dungeons. He yelped when one of them turned to stare at him with lifeless white eyes. Unluckily for him, he bumped into Jackson. Jackson shoved him. Stiles fell into the mud where Scott was there to clear the mud, but all he did was smear it across Stiles’ robes.

“What’s your problem, Stilinski?” Jackson sneered.

“It’s those things! Those horse things!” Stiles shrieked and pointed at the front of the carriage.

Jackson and Danny both looked to the carriage. Even Scott. “There’s nothing there.” Danny commented.

“Yes there is!” Stiles said desperately approaching the horse. Looking at it again, it was still scary as hell but they were also strangely beautiful if one liked that sort of thing. But Stiles really didn’t so he stood by his former statement. “Can’t you see them?!”

“Did McCall hit your head this summer?” Jackson guffawed.

“No I swear-“

Everyone turned to Lydia who was approaching with perfect determined strides. “Leave him alone.”

“What?” Jackson said outraged. “You’re sticking up for him now?!”

Lydia huffed at him and turned to look at Stiles. Stiles froze as her gaze was fully directed on him for the first time. He was immediately captivated by her colored eyes that he almost missed what she said. “I can see them too Stilinski. They are called thestrals. You’re not mental…well at least not to the extent where you are seeing things cause I still think you are pretty odd.”  With that, she turned back to Jackson.

Jackson’s eyes bulged out his head. “I was-“ He defended, most likely from a previous argument they were having.

“No excuses.” Lydia commanded. “You are going to pay for my subscription for Witch Weekly for the year under your name.”

“What? I can’t do that!” Jackson yelled.

“Yes, you can.” She climbed onto the carriage and paused on the first step to look over at Danny.

“I think Danny would appreciate it too.”

“I’m not buying you anything.” Jackson grumbled.

All it took was for Lydia to raise a perfect eyebrow for Jackson to mumble a soft “Fine.”

Stiles turned back to Scott who was looking at the carriages trying to see the thestrals. “Why can you see them?” Scott asked, furrowing his brows.

Stiles shrugged. “Don’t know. I’ll research it tomorrow after classes, c’mon.” He pulled Scott onto a carriage where Bennett, Ethan, and Sean joined as well. After going into the Gryffindor common room last year the other three boys were fairly nice to him as long as he didn’t prank them. He learned that the hard way after pranking Ethan. Ethan was so outraged that he cast a sticking charm on Stiles to pin him above the library with a note that said ‘prankster ye be warned.’ He still forgot to ask him how he cast that charm without ruining his robes. Last time he tried casting it, he accidentally stuck himself to Scott and they both ripped their robes when the charm wore off.

He listened to them all talk animatedly about two openings for a chaser position and a keeper for the Gryffindor Quidditch team and they were going to try out. He only wished Slytherin had an opening. There wouldn’t be an opening until next year.

“Stiles! Stiles!” Scott snapped his fingers in front of Stiles’ face.

“Yeah?” He hadn’t realized he had spaced out.

“Did you see Cora?” Scott asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“She looked, I don’t know--like tired and sick,” Scott commented with a furrow between his brows.

“Maybe it has to do with her going back home,” Ethan interrupted.

“What do you mean?” Stiles questioned.

Ethan looked at both of them with confusion. “You mean you guys don’t know,  _The Hale Manor Fire_??”

“Oh Merlin’s balls I forgot about that.” Stiles blurted. He finally remembered. His dad was in charge of that case when it had happened, one of the main reasons he wasn’t home after Claudia’s death.

“Wait? What? What’s the Hale Manor Fire?” Scott asked looking to all the guys on the carriage for answers.

It was Stiles who spoke. “About three years ago, two wizards burned down the Hale House with everyone in there. I heard there were at least fifteen people in there, there were kids in there and not all of them were wizards. Some of them were muggles too. The only remaining members are Cora, her two siblings, and uncle.”

“Crap…” Scott whispered. “That’s why she acts like that.”

“Yeah,” Ethan commented. “And it’s probably why she looks miserable now. I would hate going home knowing that almost everyone in my family died.”

Stiles sighed. It was heartbreaking that his mother died. He still thought of her even though three years had passed and it was still hard to remember that she was no longer part of his life. He couldn’t even begin to imagine if he had lost his father too. He bit his bottom lip and made a pact to not prank the Hales. They didn’t deserve it.

|~~***~~|

It was sometime in mid-September when Scott found himself in the middle of the Quidditch Pitch. He was adorning training gear and he held on tightly to his Cleansweep Eleven. The broom was three models behind and it was really starting to freak Scott out when he saw a few students with Nimbus models. Stiles though assured him it was about talent not the quality of your broom. Speaking of Stiles, he could see him in the stands with Sean holding up a sign that said ‘ _GO SCOTT HE’S OUR BIG SHOT_ ’, was charmed to burst occasionally into neon lights, and made fangirl screaming noises. Stiles had made Bennett and Ethan similar signs, but they were much less embarrassing.

Ethan and Scott were both trying to out for the two openings for chaser while Bennett was trying out for keeper.

Scott noticed that most of the other students trying out were barely mediocre and it explained Gryffindor’s long seven year losing streak. It made him calm down a bit that there wasn’t such high expectations, but then Ethan went on. Ethan turned and winked at him before he kicked off the ground.

Scott always knew that his friend could fly, but he had never seen Ethan play. The boy looked as though he was born on a broomstick. He ducked and swerved the bludgers with the quaffle in his hand and shot through the goal posts before the stand in keeper could do a thing. When it came to be his turn he was shaking on his broom. He had practiced all of summer with Stiles in the backyard and he hoped it was going to pay off. He kicked off and hovered for a moment as he waited for the others to go retrieve the quaffle. He looked to his right and he saw Stiles on his feet dramatically shaking the sign. Scott gave him a wary thumbs-up and got the quaffle.

Scott had made six out of the ten shots and was only knocked down twice by the bludger. It was more than the other players could say and Scott was excited when he landed on the ground. Stiles was already there waiting for him and giving him a head noogie. Scott laughed and tried to wrestle him off but couldn’t. Stiles only let go when he saw the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain approach them.

“McCall, Smith, Twine!” All three second-year boys looked at the captain with adoring puppy dog eyes. “You guys are on the team. Congratulations!”

“Agh!” Stiles screeched more loudly than the three new Quidditch players did. “I knew you could do it Scott!”

“Thanks Stiles!” Scott cheered and hugged his best friend.

“Oh Merlin! Your bromance is sickening!” Ethan joked.

“You’re just jealous that you don’t get the famous Stilinski hug.” Stiles shot out, pulling away from Scott.

Scott felt too overjoyed and pulled him back into the embrace.

|~~***~~|

It was the week before Christmas Break and Stiles wanted to make a huge prank before he left. He grabbed Scott and they went outside toward the Herbology Greenhouses to grab the stuff they needed for the prank. Stiles was thankful that he had put a coat on because it was dead ass freezing outside.

“Ok, there’s Morrell,” Stiles conspiratorially whispered, rubbing his hands to get some warmth. “Go distract her while I go get the bouncing bulbs.”

“Why don’t you distract her?” Scott whispered back in a shout. “I’m better at sneaking and you’re better at distracting.”

“Yes, I know!” Stiles shot back. “But you don’t even know how to handle bouncing bulbs.”

“Yes I do!”

“What do they even look like?” Scott was quiet for a long moment. “See. You distract. I’ll go get them.”

Scott groaned but found himself walking to Professor Morrell. “Hey Professor, I had some questions about my mandrake. Can you help me?”

“Sure Mr. McCall, let’s go into my office.”

Stiles crouched behind the greenhouse and waited for Scott to give him the signal. Once Scott crossed his fingers, a code they developed last year, Stiles shot out from the greenhouse as silently as he could and rushed into Greenhouse #2. Once inside, he saw the bouncing bulbs.

Bouncing bulbs were precious purple little eggplants that had a bad habit of bouncing in cold weather, but in the greenhouse it was warm especially for them so they were stationary. Stiles put on his gloves and started depositing the bulbs carefully inside his bag that he had charmed to be warm. He wanted at least a dozen of them. He was planning on finding a spell to make them permanently cold and release them into the Great Hall and each time they bounced on someone’s lower half they would double and each time they landed on someone's head they would quadruple. He knew it would cause chaos in the Great Hall during breakfast and that’s what he was looking forward too. He just needed to get twelve, except the bouncing bulbs were slippery little buggers and grabbing them was difficult. He had about eight in the bag when he heard a crash from Greenhouse #3. He peeked over the mirror slowly.

He could see second year Hufflepuff, Erica Reyes jumping in place as a pot hit her foot. From this position, he could see that she was digging for baby dirigible plums in the soil. Stiles knew that dirigible plums had to be dug out of the ground so they could float and form a bush on a wall or door like they usually preferred. Stiles briefly wondered if Erica was helping Morrell. She seemed to be. She was wearing messy clothes and she had her mousy blonde hair tied behind her head in a very messy ponytail that had streaks of dirt on it. He could also see streaks of dirt and mud on her cheek and forehead. He laughed as one dirigible plum floated to the top and she jumped up to try to grab it.

He shook his head and turned back to his work of collecting the bouncing bulbs. When he had ten in the bag, he heard another crash from Erica again. He didn’t look up this time already knowing that she most likely stubbed her toe again or broke another pot judging from the sound of it. In between grabbing the eleventh one, he heard a choked scream. Stiles peered over and saw Erica convulsing on the ground with about three fanged geraniums biting at her skin.

Stiles panicked.

He stood up quickly and ran to the greenhouse next door. Erica was still convulsing on the ground and she seemed to be losing consciousness the more she shook. Stiles took out his wand and cast an incendio toward the geraniums. They crisped under the flame, leaving Erica alone. He dashed toward her but the girl was still convulsing. Stiles didn’t know what to do. He grabbed the girl and put her on her side, letting her go into a fetal position. That seemed to do the trick because she was slowly calming down.

“What is going on here?!”

Stiles turned and saw both Morrell and Scott at the doorway. Scott looked him with his usual puppy eyes mouthing ‘I tried’ while Morrell looked furious. It was the most expressionatte he had ever seen on the Hufflepuff Head of House. It startled, Stiles that he jumped away from Erica. Morrell dashed to Erica her robes swaying beautifully behind her. Morrell placed her palm on Erica’s sweaty forehead and tried to shush the girl as she cast healing charms on the bite marks the fanged geraniums had left.

“What were you doing Mr. Stilinski!” Morrell scorned.

“I was helping Erica!” Stiles screamed, frightened as he looked at the small Hufflepuff girl.

“You best be going back to the castle. You too McCall and if you two try sneaking into the greenhouses again, I can promise you’ll have detention for a month.”

“Yes Professor,” They said in tandem and took off.

“Dude, what happened?” Scott asked as they began treading up the snowy path back to the castle.

“I don’t know. I was getting the bouncing bulbs and then I saw Erica having a spasm attack in the greenhouse next door with crazy geraniums all over her. I went to go help and that’s when you and Morrell came in.”

“Oh man. I hope Erica is ok.”

“Yeah me too,” Stiles said looking back. “Fricking Salazar!”

“What?”

“I forgot the bouncing bulbs in the greenhouse.”

“Are you going to go back?” Scott asked.

“What? No are you kidding. Professor Blake already gave me a month’s detention because I charmed the third year Slytherins to burst out singing Celestina Warbeck songs anytime one of them mentioned the word pureblood. I don’t see what the problem was she’s just out to get me. ”

“What are we going to do then?”

Stiles shrugged. “I guess no awesome Christmas prank...”

“Oh man, I was looking forward to it. I was even practicing my multiplying charm.” Scott whined.

Stiles gasped and laughed. “What is this? Am I corrupting you Scott McCall!”

“No!” Scott chuckled. “I just thought it would be a good learning experience. Professor Finstock wants us to learn the spell before we leave for break. We could have gotten out of detention by saying that it was all for the sake of school and knowledge.”

Stiles laughed and slung an arm over Scott. “And this is why you’re my best friend. C’mon we’ll figure something out. We’ll multiply Jackson’s all over the school if we have to.”

It was later that night when Stiles was sitting in the Slytherin common room going through about six different books at the same time trying to find something to replace the bouncing bulbs. He couldn’t find anything. A few things he came across, would hurt people if they touched them and he was sure he didn’t want to injure anyone with the prank. He came across marshmallow spiders and thought about using that but they wouldn’t have the same messy effect that the bouncing bulbs would. His entire plan revolved around filling the Great Hall with bouncing bulbs until nobody could walk and then have them explode. It would be hilarious to see Jackson and Harris with purple goo all over their heads. He shut all of the books and leaned against the leather couch.

He began to consider doing homework, but he didn’t really want to. He was doing better than last year by actually doing his assignments even doing a few ahead of time but the only reason was so he could devote his time with corrupting the school. He had already set up a name for himself and he was not going to let it go to waste because he had to do _homework_. Stiles bit his lip, he had an Astronomy assignment that wasn’t due till next week but he could start it. He looked for his Astronomy book and opened it to the chapter of comets as they had to track the progression of Halley ’s Comet, a comet that was rumored to bring and take away life.

“Hey Stilinski?”

Stiles looked up and saw Danny with his Astronomy book tucked under his arm. “Want to work together? I’m having a bit of trouble tracking Halley’s Comet after Babylonian times.”

“Yeah sure,” Stiles pushed off the books off the couch and clumsily pulled out his Astronomy chart. He made a fuss to be settled on the couch and looked to Danny with a smile. Danny was the only boy in the dorm that Stiles did not have a problem with. He had his moment where he could be as rude as Jackson could but he noticed that Danny did apologize which was more than Jackson could say. Aiden and Matt were the worst of the bunch. Beginning of second year they became best friend’s for life when Aiden bought Matt a camera and now the two were horrible douches. Even Jackson found them annoying and that was saying something.

“Ok so after 1752 BC it passed by earth but there was a large meteor shower that screwed up its trajectory around here,” Stiles said pointing to the map.

Danny nodded and made a note. “That happened too during the middle ages right?”

“Yup but it was more around Mars than Earth.” Stiles said absentmindedly and noticed that he still had a few licorice wands in his bag that he had left uneaten. He scrambled for them as quickly as he could knocking down Danny’s ink.

“Dude!” Danny shouted.

“Sorry,” Stiles screeched, though it was muffled as he had five licorice wands in his mouth. He pulled out his wand from his robe and cast a cleaning charm without a word.

Danny muttered a thank you and shook his notebook a few times. “I always forget that you’re amazing at spellwork.”

“What are you talking about?” Stiles muttered finally swallowing the candy.

“Stilinski you just cast that spell with a mouth full of licorice wands and you cast it without erasing my writing. That takes skill. But I guess it should be expected with being number two in our class.”

“I’m what?!” Stiles shrieked.

“Yeah Blake came in last week with a list of the top ten students in our year, I think you were in detention with Professor Harris that day though.”

“So I’m two. Cool,” Stiles stated. “Whose one?”

“Lydia duh,” Danny scoffed. “Jackson is three and I’m four and some kid named Boyd from Hufflepuff is fifth-that’s all I can really remember.”

“Sweet,” Stiles grinned and turned to their portrait hole when he saw Jackson walk through and call for him.

“Stilinski! There’s a Huffleshit asking for you outside!”

“Don’t call them that,” Stiles reprimanded, but couldn’t help but laugh. Apparently, his little name for the Gryffindors into Gryffindorks, sparked a game within the Slytherin house to see who could come up with wittier names for the others.

He set his things to the side and walked out to see who it was.

He wasn’t expecting to see tiny little Erica though when he opened the door. She looked the same as ever, messy blonde hair, shaken form, and scratches along her face.

“Uh…can I help you?” Stiles asked, not really knowing what to do.

“You left this in the greenhouse,” Erica said and handed him his bag.

Stiles was taken back but took it anyway. He looked inside and saw all his bouncing bulbs there and more than that, there was twelve of them.

“How did you? Why? What?” Stiles stuttered.

Erica bit her lip and her cheeks stained red. “You helped me earlier today, so I’m helping you.”

Stiles grinned. “Oh great Merlin you are amazing Erica. Thank you.”

“No problem,” She shuffled back and forth and then pointed to the stairs at the end of the hallway. “I’ll just go now.”

Stiles nodded and watched her head to the stairs when he remembered. He ran after her quickly and stopped her as she was at the top of the stairs. “Erica!” She turned toward him curiously. “On Friday make sure to cast a repellent charm on your body and clothes.”

“Why?”

Stiles released his smile that Scott liked to call his evil cornish pixie smile and brought his bag to his face. “Prank in the Great Hall be prepared.”

Erica let out a shy chuckle and nodded. “Will do.”

Stiles let her go and then headed to the Gryffindor tower to tell Scott the plan was back on.

|~~***~~|

Stiles never ceased to amaze Scott in his endeavor to get Lydia’s attention. The twelve-year-old boy was like a kneazle trying to woo a hippogriff. In other words, it was never going to happen. Speaking of Hippogriffs, Scott was watching Stiles trying to make one.

During the winter break, Stiles had found Scott’s mother’s romance books. He knew it was disaster waiting to happen. Stiles had stolen one of the gargoyle statues off one of the castle roofs and was trying to transfigure it into a Hippogriff.

“Scott, help me out here!” Stiles called.

“I don’t even know how to do this spell. This is a sixth year one!”

Scott watched his friend huff in frustration. He had succeeded in making the statue look like a real Hippogriff but Stiles was struggling to make it move.

Scott wondered why Stiles was so invested in Lydia. Yes, the girl was pretty and smart but she was not very nice. She liked to take control all the time and she had everyone wrapped around her perfect little finger. Stiles told him he didn’t understand because he hadn’t found his dream girl. But Scott disagreed with him. He would never do crazy stuff like that just to impress a girl.

“Wait! Never mind! I got a better idea!.” Stiles shouted, jumping around. “I go to the Ravenclaw common room. She can’t run from me there. I don’t have to charm this to follow her around!”

“I hope you know how creepy and serial killer that sounded,” Scott said. Stiles waved him off. Scott laughed. “How do you plan on getting into the Ravenclaw common room! They have passwords too you know.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Scotty my man. The Ravenclaws don’t have passwords they have riddles. I’ll figure it out when we get there. I just need you to memorize your lines.”

“Fine.” Scott grumbled and pulled out his mother’s romance book, reading the lines again. He felt silly for doing this, but he owed Stiles with helping him with his Transfiguration homework.

After an hour, Stiles transfigured the statue to fit inside his robes. They walked to the Ravenclaw dorms and stopped at the bronze door that had a bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle. Stiles knocked and waited for the riddle.

“I am round, rubbery, wet and long   
swimming all day listening to a beautiful song  
My legs are most often tied in a knot  
And you can cook me in a steaming pot.  
What am I?”

Scott was immediately dumbfounded. He couldn’t he give an answer at all but then Stiles answered without a pause. “A plimpy.”

A _plimpy_? What the hell was a plimpy?

The door pushed open and Scott followed Stiles inside. The Ravenclaw common room was airy and spacious. It held an aura of enlightenment and Scott hoped that some of Ravenclaw’s intelligence passed onto him. Luckily, for Stiles though, Lydia was already in the common room talking to her friends.

“What. Is. That.  _Thing_. Doing here?” Lydia asked as she saw them at the entrance.

Every Ravenclaw turned toward them and Scott wanted to pull his wand out just in case. One never knew with Ravenclaws.

Stiles grinned at her and took out his statue of the Hippogriff. He tapped it once and the statue came to its original stature. Scott noticed all the Ravenclaws look at them with piqued curiosity at Stiles’ display of magic. Scott watched his best friend climb the Hippogriff, with a great deal of difficulty and flailing limbs.

Scott sighed and stepped forward dramatically. If he was going to do this, he was going to do this right. “My dear powerful Warlock, the woman that burns with the intensity of a thousand phoenixes cast in flames approaches.”

“Thank you kind Sir,” Stiles said, sitting tall on the statue. “My dear Lydia. The most powerful and brightest witch to ever exist in the world. Your looks prettier than any Veela sought by man, your mind sharper than any eagle. Lydia I turn to you and ask will you accept my hand in marriage and ride off with me into the sunset on my daring strong Hippogriff.”

All the girls in the Ravenclaw room giggled at the display. Lydia though looked at Stiles with a feigned smile. “Mmmm…No.”

“But Lydia. The thoughts of you resounding are ringing and shaking in my head. I wake up to a mermaid in my face every morning, as I lay awake in the dungeons of my bed. Our souls—“

Scott’s eyes went wide open at Stiles’ monologue. Oh dear Merlin, this was going to turn out bad, he could tell. He tried rushing forward to Stiles to stop him from talking but Lydia was quicker in pulling out her wand. She cast a spell that caused Stiles’ Hippogriff to transfigure into several feathers and then another spell that caused bubbles to foam in Stiles’ mouth.

Everyone began to laugh and Scott picked up Stiles as each time he tried to speak bubbles spurted out.

“Next time,” Lydia warned. “You two come in here I’ll cast a spell and give you buttons for nipples, got it?” She smiled cheekily. Scott noted hastily and pulled Stiles away from the Ravenclaw common room. Oh, the things he did for his friend.

|~~***~~|

It was near the end of Second Year when both Stiles and Scott were deciding what classes to take for next year. So far, Stiles had chosen Ancient Runes and Arithmancy; the two hardest subjects that Hogwarts offered. Scott not so much. He wanted to take the classes so he could spend more time with his friends but he knew he had to choose something at his own level.

“Do you think Divination and Care of Magical Creatures would be good for me?” Scott asked Stiles genuinely. Stiles who was sitting with him at the Gryffindor table nodded.

“Divination isn’t really hard just be prepared to do a lot of assignments and I hear Care of Magical Creatures is good if you like animals and being outside.”

Scott nodded and checked those two classes for the following year. “What are you taking Ethan?”

Ethan who was reading the Daily Prophet instead of his class schedule looked up to meet Scott’s gaze. “Huh? Oh Muggle Studies and Care of Magical Creatures.” He said absentmindedly and turned back to reading the newspaper.

Scott and Stiles looked at each with confusion at being dismissed so easily. “What are you reading?” Scott decided to ask.

Ethan looked crestfallen and handed the paper to them. Scott picked it up first. “Notorious Werewolf Wizards Escape from Azkaban.”

“Shit.” Stiles said looking over his friend’s shoulder.

“It says known werewolves Deucalion, Kali, and Ennis escaped from Azkaban Monday night during a full moon. Whereabouts of their location are unknown. However, there was a werewolf attack in Cheswick where five wizards and witches died and two are missing. Aurors are still unsure whether the incidents are related.”

“Do you think the werewolves turned them?” Cora questioned with alarm.

All the boys in the Gryffindor table turned to Cora who was listening to them intently. It was the first time that Cora had initiated a conversation that was not school related. Scott was shocked as she seemed genuinely concerned. He turned though quickly to the paper.

“It says they aren’t sure and are not making any assumptions. Why would you think that Cora?”

Cora looked to her schedule. “Those werewolves are all Alphas. They have the power to turn people. So if those two are missing, I’m guessing the werewolves did.”

“You know a lot about werewolves,” Ethan pointed out.

“What do you mean?” She said, avoiding his gaze.

“I don’t know, last year you knew a lot about aconite and mountain ash.” Ethan stated.

“I’m fascinated by dark creatures,” She admitted.

Stiles groaned exaggeratedly. “Ugh, seriously? You and Jackson are going to get along then in Defense next year then. He won’t shut up about it! He’s like do you think we are going to see real Acromantulas or a Mermaid or a freaking Werewolf! It’s so freaking annoying! I cast a Silencio on him even though he cast a spell on me to grow antlers. It was pretty worth it though. It took about five hours for him to break my enchantment.” Stiles grinned.

“Huh,” Scott interrupted.

“What?”

“He sound vaguely similar to someone I know. I mean they never shut up about Ancient Runes or Arithmancy either. They are all like: do you think Lydia Martin is going to be in that class? Do you think I should try to get ahead to impress her? Should I buy belladonna cologne?”

Everyone in the table laughed including Cora.

“Haha,” Stiles grumbled, stealing the paper to read it himself.

His heart stopped when he read his father was taking the case. He hoped he would be all right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again than you for all the feedback it was lovely. Sorry the chapter was kind of long I just felt first year and second year were too short to stand on their own. One more year (chapter) to go and then we really start getting into the plot of this story. 
> 
> Give me comments on what you thought of the pranks and what pranks you would like to see in the future.


	5. The Pendant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Third year of Hogwarts comes and goes. Stiles and Scott enjoy their year as something sinister begins to emerge in the background.

During Third Year, Stiles found himself in the Gryffindor stands cheering for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He was highly bummed out that he had not gotten the position as chaser. Jackson fricking Whittemore had obviously been appointed as chaser along with Aiden and Danny as Keeper. During the tryouts, he had done his best and it was pretty darn good in his opinion. He wasn’t knocked down by the bludger once and he had made seven out of the ten shots. Jackson though had to show up in his latest Firebolt model. Undoubtedly, he flew faster than Stiles or anyone else on the team. Stiles knew he wouldn’t be able to compete even more so when Aiden proved to be as spectacular as Jackson.

And because of that, it meant that the Gryffindor team couldn’t compete either.

“C’mon Scott!” Stiles felt his vocal cords straining as he shouted the loudest.

The Gryffindor team had improved since last year. Compared to Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, Gryffindor could fly on par with them, but Slytherin that was another matter. Even with Ethan who was the best seeker they had was no match for Jackson or his twin. Aiden and Ethan both seemed to have the same level of skill, but it was Aiden who could manipulate his brother’s psyche and steal the quaffle whenever his twin had it. And each time he did, he passed to Jackson who kept shooting past the keeper, Bennet Smith. Currently the score was 30 to 80. Slytherin was winning.

“Aren’t you supposed to be cheering for Slytherin?”

Stiles turned at Cora, who had been sitting beside him and screaming up a storm for the chasers to be quicker and stop acting like pansies.

“Hell no! I would never betray Scott like that!” Stiles flung his Gryffindor scarf over his Slytherin robes, disregarding the Slytherin guidelines from first year.

Cora rolled her eyes. “I wish Slytherin wasn’t winning. I hate Whittemore.”

“Same,” Stiles agreed. “He’s good though. Why didn’t you try out for Gryffindor last year? You’re a good flier. I remember you scaring the crap out of Jackson our first year.”

“Cause I want the seeker position. There’s one open next year. I’ll be on the team then.”

“You sound pretty cocky. What if someone else gets it?”

“They won’t. Believe me. And don’t question my abilities, what you saw first year was only a quarter of what I can do.”

Stiles raised his hands in defense. “All right, don’t rip my throat out.”

Cora actually laughed. It had Stiles on red alert. The Hales _never_ laughed. “Don’t worry; throat ripping is more of my brother’s thing. I go for the flank, more meat there.” She gave him a coy smile that made Stiles question whether she was joking. He became distracted when Ethan managed to grab a rebound quaffle and make a shot past Danny. The stands screamed and Stiles began starting a chant to cheer on the proud lions.   

|~~***~~|

“Why are we here?” Scott whispered.

Scott, Stiles and a few other students were gathered in the Three Broomsticks on the first visit to Hogsmeade. Many of the Hogsmeade villagers kept sending them nasty glares as they filled up the entire pub. Many people had to take their drinks standing. Lydia Martin, surely didn’t mind standing however. She was standing proudly, with a coat that must have cost her hundreds of galleons in the center of the pub, as she commanded everyone with her presence alone to acknowledge her.

“Scott. Do you really need to ask? Lydia. Cute. Funny. Smart Lydia calls a meeting we show up. Or did you forget my plan to marry her before we leave school?”

Scott sighed and grumbled into his seat. He wanted to go to Honeydukes but Stiles dragged him to this meeting. He didn’t even remember why Lydia called this stupid meeting. There were other students there the most popular in their year and other older students, but most of them looked like they were forced to be there, or were only there to gawk at Lydia or try to associate with the cool crowd.  

“Listen up,” Lydia said suddenly, with Lydia’s best friend, Jackson, beside her. Or was it boyfriend? Arranged fiancee? Scott really had no idea. He figured Stiles would know, but he was scared of asking in case Stiles began to recite a twelve foot essay on Lydia Martin. “Ok so I brought you here because I have gotten permission from Headmaster Deaton to start a dueling club.”

“Jackson, seriously this is why we are here?” A boy that Scott didn’t recognize, ask.

“Shut up.” Jackson spat and let Lydia continue.

“Thank you Jackson. Well as we have seen since our first year, we have had a different Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor every year. Personally, I don’t think it’s productive at all since each of the professors spend at least two months trying to figure out where we left off the previous year. It’s useless. I mean besides me, did anyone learn how to successfully do the disarming spell last year. I think not.”

“I did,” Scott spoke up. He realized he made everyone turn toward him with confusion.

“And you are?” Lydia asked, placing a hand on her hip.

“Scott McCall. We worked together for Herbology second year.” Lydia looked confused as she try to recollect his existence, which was most likely checked off as non-existent in her head if Scott knew better. Lydia didn’t remember anyone who wasn’t important.

“Don’t recall but anyway, what do you mean you learned _Expelliarmus_?” She scoffed.

“The disarming spell was simple, so I learned how to do it.”

“It wasn’t simple,” Lydia called out. “It takes a lot of practice and precision and I doubt a nobody like you would know how to do it.”

“But it was easy.” Scott said with a slight whine. He did not understand why Lydia was so disbelieving.

“Lydia my darling, my sweet beautiful phoenix,” Stiles spoke. “Scott’s really good at DADA. Sometimes he tutors me. Personally why I think it’s too hard for us is cause we focus too much on the theory rather than the practice. DADA requires a more practical and daring approach. Something we non-Gryffindors lack.”

“So what? McCall is a prodigy at DADA?” Jackson scoffed, crossing his arms.

“I didn’t say that,” Scott defended.

Lydia pouted her lips dramatically. “I don’t care if you can do the spell or not really. All I care about is my dueling club. So end of that trivial discussion. We will meet on the second and last tuesday’s of every month in classroom 3C. Older students are encouraged to join to help the younger ones. I will be in charge of teaching and leading the Dueling Club. If you wish to join please sign on this paper.” Lydia pulled out from her robes a mint green rolled parchment. She unrolled it and it floated beside her tiny frame. “Write your name, house, and year. Also a ten sickle fee is required for membership so we can get everyone dueling club badges. Any questions?”

Several students rose their hands and Scott ignored each one of them. He left the tiny table he shared with Stiles to get more butterbeer while Stiles gawked over Lydia. When he returned with two pints of butterbeer, he saw that Stiles had written his name on the parchment and his own. Great.

“Stiles? Why is my name on the list?”

“Cause you’re my best friend.”

Scott sighed and gave his friend his drink. “That I am, Stiles. That I am.”

|~~***~~|

Stiles was in the library. A rare time indeed. However, he was there for one purpose only and that was to get Lydia Martin’s attention. He had been going to Lydia’s club for the past three months and she still refused to fully acknowledge him. It was of dire time that Stiles took immediate action. And it was that illogical motivation that brought him to the library.

He ambled through the abandoned potion’s section, trying to find an alternative version of the common love potion that did not make someone completely convoluted without their consent. But Stiles was having zero luck. He had a trail of ten books floating behind him on a locomotor charm and the stack kept growing as he added more to it. In between looking for another love potion book, he came across a book that was specific for focusing potions for those troublemaking sons. Stiles hit gold. He pulled it off the shelf and skimmed quickly through it.

Yes, this was it! If he found a way to mix it with a love potion this would have Lydia demanding Stiles to talk to her. Stiles had a small spasm attack from joy. However, his locomotor charm wavered causing all his books to fall. Luckily or not so luckily in Stiles’ situation, they didn’t all land on the floor. Stiles hadn’t even realized another person was there but before he knew it, two books were ripped to shreds and he was pinned roughly against the bookshelf.

Stiles’ eyes bulged out of his head as he stared in front of him. It was Cora Hale’s brother, Derek. Stiles was shocked that Derek had a strong magical outburst at his small accident and even more so that he was pressed against the shelf.

“Sorry,” Stiles stuttered.

Derek looked at him with menacing green eyes as his hand curled into Stiles’ necktie. Who knew a Hufflepuff could be so intimidating? He would give him props if he wasn’t scared shitless. Stiles repeated himself. “Look dude, I didn’t know you were there. You kind of snuck up on me and I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, not that I’m saying you're weak enough to get hurt from a few books although some of these are quite old and really huge and I know from experience that they could knock someone out. Not that I was trying to knock you out or anything. It really was an accident. You see I found a wonderful book to garner the attention of a beautiful delicate flower. And yeah I know I’m rambling, but dear Merlin _please don’t hurt me_.”

Derek’s face passed through several emotions confusion and then annoyance and then confusion as his nostrils flared. He let go of Stiles’ collar, stepping back with his head held up high. His nostrils flared one more time as if he had smelled something disgusting. He lifted his hand to cup his nose and after that, he just left without a word, covering his nose.

“That was weird…”

He peered round the corner to catch a glimpse of Derek and saw him rubbing the bottom of his nose as he ventured into another part of the library. Stiles felt the need to stalk the other boy just to figure out what the hell that was about, but from the corner of his eye he caught the familiar head of a strawberry blonde and anything that had happened was tossed out of the proverbial window. Gawking at Lydia by the Transfiguration section, renewed his vigor to find the potions book he had found. He groaned as he saw the pile of books on the floor. He kneeled down to begin picking them up and groaned once more when he heard the librarian coughing behind him. He turned slowly around and glanced up at the menacing woman.

“I can explain…” Stiles said.

“I’m sure you can Mr. Stilinski. Should I go find Professor Blake so our detentions don’t overlap?”

Stiles breathed out heavily. “Yes, Mam.” Freaking Derek Hale...

|~~***~~|

Scott was for the first time in his three years of Hogwarts in the Slytherin common room. The area was cold and dreary compared to the Gryffindor common room. He wondered how Stiles dealt with it, but as he watched him weave through the furniture without tripping once, he noticed that Stiles seemed at home here. Maybe he was a Slytherin. He never faulted his best friend for being a Slytherin. He did not see the harm in it like others did. Slytherin had produced dark wizards but every house had. The only thing that did trouble him was that it was difficult having a best friend in a rival house. He realized quickly his first year that a lot of people ostracized them for that reason. They were nobodies at the school that caused the occasional prank.

No one liked a Gryffindor that had a Slytherin friend. And no one liked a Slytherin who didn’t belong.

But Stiles did belong, the Slytherins just held past judgments of what a Slytherin should be.

Scott knew from the moment he met Stiles, he was going to be sorted into a different house than his own. Their personalities were different and that was why they complemented each other. While Stiles was cunning and had a strong sense of self-preservation, Scott was more ethical, honest, and chivalrous. While Stiles was resourceful, ambitious, and clever, Scott was more instinctual, daring, and had strong nerve that got him by.

It worked out and it was one of the reasons why Scott worked so hard to have Stiles as his best friend over the years. He knew Stiles felt the same way.

“Won’t you get in trouble if you prank your own house?” Scott asked, as they both cast charms on the windows. Stiles had come up with the plan that when a Slytherin looked out the window that had a view of the Black Lake, everyone would see something different and freak out.

“Yeah, most likely. But what is Blake going to do? Give me detention?” Stiles chuckled while Scott laughed.

It had become a running joke between them now whenever they got detention. They had gotten so much that it didn’t even faze them.

“If the Slytherins want to hurt you in the middle of the night you can always sleep in the Gryffindor dorms again.”

“Yeah I think I might,” Stiles said, sticking his tongue out as he tried to concentrate on the window. “I’m purposefully making sure that when Jackson looks through the window he sees Professor Finstock in a tutu doing the mambo.”

Scott lost in his place in the cast of charms. “Oh sweet Merlin, you are going to have to sleep in the Gryffindor dorms for a week if you do that.”

“It’s going to be sooo worth it.”

Scott laughed and took a few steps away from the window he was working on. Not used to furniture placement of the Slytherin common room, he knocked against one of the coffee tables. He fell to the ground taking all the papers and the coffee table with him. Stiles laughed but was quick to help him up.

“You ok?”

“Yup,” Scott groaned. He looked to the papers and began placing them back on the counter. He stopped when he saw the Daily Prophet for today. “Hey, remember those werewolves that escaped last year from Azkaban?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“It says here they’ve killed about twenty people in the last month and they have turned about twelve into werewolves.”

Stiles quickly went to peer over his shoulder reading the article. “Man, no wonder my dad has been really moody in his letters. He’s been having to deal with all this.”

“Why do you think the werewolves are doing this?”

“I don’t know. Werewolves are cold heartless creatures. They don’t have any remorse for anything. They’re abominations. I don’t think they need a reason to kill people. It’s their nature.”

Scott had never heard of Stiles speak of such prejudice before. Scott knew himself that werewolves were dangerous, but he was not sure he held the same sharp tongue that Stiles had for them. “I mean what are you going to expect when an instinct driven creature mixes with a wizard. It’s terrible and it taints our wizard race. I can’t imagine having to be one, I would rather kill myself.”

“That’s kind of dark and I didn’t know you held beliefs about wizard purity.”

“I don’t. Wizards can go with muggles all that pixie dust. But werewolves with wizards, I’m sorry but that’s bestiality which is wrong.”

“What’s beaste-baest-?”

“Oh, Scott. Let’s save that conversation for another day.”  

|~~***~~|

Scott was in Care of Magical Creatures with the Hufflepuffs and they were listening to Professor Fenris talk about safety procedures with Salamanders. Scott was really happy that he took this class it was really interesting and he loved learning about all the different animals.

“The Salamanders are fire based so do not forget to put on your dragon skinned gloves. You will be set into partners and you will be observing your Salamanders for the week, make sure to record what makes them turn off their flames what makes them turn on. Also, observe how their social habits work, eating habits, and any other information you think is worth mentioning. You will write a foot long essay on Salamanders that will be due a week from today. Understood? Good, now when I call your name please come up and collect your Salamanders.”

“Ethan Twine and Erica Reyes.”

“Malia Tate and Cora Hale.”

“Scott McCall and Isaac Lahey.”

Scott turned to the Hufflepuff boy and gave him a beaming smile. The Hufflepuff was at least a head taller than he was and extremely skinny. Isaac reached into the basket and pulled out the Salamander from his tail.

“Do you want to go by the edge of the forest to look at our Salamander?”

“Salamanders thrive better in rocky areas, let’s go over there,” Isaac pointed shyly.

Scott nodded and went over to a huge pile of rocks and boulders. Isaac placed the Salamander on the ground and watched it scatter and check out its new environment. Meanwhile Scott pulled out his notebook and sat on the grass with Isaac.

“So…” Scott began once it became incredibly silent.

Isaac who was buried in his notebook taking notes, shyly looked up. Scott let his mouth hang open slightly for a long pause as he looked into Isaac’s large colored eyes. The skinny boy was looking at him with all the attention in the world and Scott did not know how to react to such an intense look.

“Yeah?” Isaac asked with a small stutter.

Scott pursed his lips. “Uh…so how goes it?”

Isaac looked at Scott as if he was determining what the other boy was thinking but couldn’t figure it out. “Fine.”

“Oh that’s good,” Scott said, looking to the Salamander so he didn’t have to look at Isaac. It was silent again and it became awkward fast.

Both of them were taking notes on the Salamander but their Salamander was not doing much. It was not until Scott saw from the corner of his eye Isaac shuffling. He turned to him and saw him pull out a small Dumbo Rat from his pocket. At first, Scott thought Isaac was going to feed it to the Salamander but then he saw the most peculiar thing. Isaac put the rat on his shoulder and the rat was quick to nuzzle his cheek.

“Is that rat yours?” Scott asked. Isaac nodded. “It looks like the ones we were working on in Transfiguration last week.”

“I know.” Isaac said.

“What’s its name?”

“Aries.” Isaac bit his lip and looked to Scott. “Do you want to hold him?”

Scott shrugged and Isaac handed him the rat gently. Scott looked at the rat up close and cuddled him to his face. “He’s cool. Do you like rats?” Scott asked, handing back the rat when it began twitching and demanding its owner.

“I like animals.”

“Really? Me too! I want a dog but my mom won’t let me.”

“Yeah, my dad too,” Isaac muttered, his gaze completely averted from Scott’s.

“At least you have Aries.” Scott assured. “And he has a cool name. I have a barn owl and my best friend named him Posey. Like what’s a Posey!”

“You’re best friend is Stiles Stilinski?” Isaac asked.

Scott nodded with pride.

“He cast a spell on all the Hufflepuffs where our hair turned into Mohawks and was neon yellow and black.” Isaac said in a monotone voice.

Scott couldn’t help but laugh. He remembered all the Hufflepuffs freaking out over their hair, especially the girls. The only people he remembered that had not gotten the brute of the prank were Erica Reyes (who Scott knew Stiles refused to prank after she helped them in their amazing Christmas prank second year) and Derek Hale (Scott still didn’t know why Stiles didn’t prank the Hales—but he figured it had to do with their family).

“I remember that. When Boyd walked in through the Great Hall I spilled pumpkin juice all over myself at how hard I laughed.”

“It wasn’t funny,” Isaac pouted. “It took the seventh years nearly four hours to figure out what spell to use to counter it so everyone could go back to normal.”

“Well Stiles is very good with spells.” Scott commented. “Sorry though, we didn’t think people would be that upset. I mean I even suggested we do it in your house colors.”

Isaac looked to Scott again with his most attentive look. “Do you always help him with his pranks?”

Scott rubbed the back of his neck. “I help but I’m mostly there to make sure he doesn’t take it too far. He was actually planning on all the guys wear dresses and stockings.”

“Well thanks I guess.” Isaac said awkwardly.

“Eh it’s like in the bro code. I have to make sure Stiles isn’t expelled? That kind of thing...you know how it goes.”

“…Not really.”

“Really? But you’re a Hufflepuff. I thought you guys were all about friends and badgers farting rainbows.” Scott asked indecorously. Isaac shook his head and grabbed his rat giving it his full attention. Scott leaned forward and raised his hand to place it on Isaac’s shoulder. When he saw Isaac flinch and pull away so did Scott. “Well I can promise you’ll get someone to initiate the bro code with in the future to make sure you don’t get expelled. For now though, I’m your man, k?”

Isaac shyly turned to Scott. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Scott smiled brightly toward Isaac. Isaac looked close to tears.

|~~***~~|

Melissa went to her room after her shift at St. Mungos was over. She was tired and hungry and as she removed her healer clothes, she wondered what she would do first. After removing her outer robes she heard a swoosh come from her fireplace. She turned around and screamed as she saw someone come out of the fireplace.

“ _Petrificus Totalus!_ ” Melissa shouted at the figure.

She heard rapid footsteps come up the stairs and saw her son at the doorway. “Mom! You cursed Stiles!”

Melissa pulled back her robes and stepped closer and in fact, it was her son’s best friend. He was frozen on the floor and only his eyes were expressing the fear he held for Scott’s mother. “What is he doing?! I turned off the floo network when I went to work.”

“But then Stiles can’t come over.” Scott whined.

“Exactly.” She said and looked to Stiles. “ _Finite_.”

Stiles shot up. “Ok, I’m sorry Ms. McCall but I am never sneaking up on you again. I think I might have wet myself a bit.” He confessed.

Melissa sighed and shook her head. “Next time please use the fireplace in the living room.”

“But that one makes my robes dirty.” Stiles stated.

Scott chuckled and pulled his friend to the side before his mother cast another curse at him. “Um mom if you’re hungry I ordered takeout.”

“Ok hon, I’ll be downstairs in a bit.” Melissa said and glared fondly at Stiles as he went downstairs.

Soon all three of them were at the dining table eating muggle food. Stiles had never had muggle food before his meeting with Scott. He was glad Scott was sharing this with him. Muggle food was amazing, especially curly fries. Those were his favorite. His dad had also taken a strong liking to them but after Stiles figured out the harmful effect it had on the body, Stiles was determined to find healthy muggle food to feed his father.

“So what have you boys been up to this summer?” Melissa asked. “Hopefully not causing _trouble_.”

Stiles and Scott flinched at the tone of her voice. “Uh we’ve just been hanging out and practicing Quidditch in Stiles’ backyard.”

“Oh, planning on joining the Quidditch team?”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah, a seventh year is leaving this year so another chaser position is open. I am getting this. Jackson can go screw himself.”

“I hope you get it dear.”

“It will be amazing. Then you can come watch both of us at our Quidditch matches.” Scott announced.

“If I have the time,” Melissa sighed. “There have been a lot more people in St. Mungos lately. I haven’t worked this hard since healer training.”

“If it makes you feel better my dad is working as hard as you.” Stiles spoke.

“Not really, poor man works harder than I do,” Melissa stated. “You know Stiles, you shouldn’t worry your dad.” Melissa said, putting her utensils to the side and looking at the boy she somehow adopted.

“I’m not. What are you talking about?”

Melissa gave him the _look_. “Stiles you are getting into detention nearly every week. Your dad is worried that he’s failing you. Maybe you should just lie off the pranks for a bit— _that means you too Scott_. Stiles, if you want your dad to pay attention to you then just talk to him.”

“It’s not about attention,” Stiles lied, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Mom,” Scott interrupted. “We just like pranks. We aren’t doing anything bad or hurting anyone and Stiles’ dad shouldn’t worry. Stiles is second at the top of our class.”

“Oh really?” Melissa asked. “And where are you mister?”

“Hey! I’ve been doing decent! I’m not failing any class for your information.” Scott shouted and winked at Stiles.

Stiles mouthed the words thank you. He had the best friend in the world.

“He’s not Ms. McCall. He’s the best student in our year in DADA and he’s the best member in the Dueling Club.” Stiles inputted. “I can’t tell you how angry that makes Jackson each time he gets his ass kicked. It’s hilarious.”

Melissa chuckled and went back to eating. “I don’t know how I ended up getting stuck with such-“

Melissa was cut off by Scott. “Amazing kids.”

“Attractive and intelligent men.” Stiles continued.

“ _Boys_.” She finished with a soft smile.  

|~~***~~|

Sometime around the middle of August Stiles and Scott were both in Stiles’ attic looking for some old enchanted balloons. However, it was not an easy task. The attic was filled to the brim with boxes and random enchanted objects, there was even a boggart inside that they needed to call Melissa to deal with.

“I was thinking we can fill the enchanted balloons with frogs from the Black Lake. The ones here I know only release floating golden bells,” Stiles said as he turned over a box.

“Wouldn’t that be dangerous for the frogs?” Scott asked.

“No, they aren’t going to be in the balloon. It’s almost like they are apparating to that place. It’s an advanced transfiguration spell but I’ll work it out when we get to Hogwarts. We just need to find the balloons-“ Stiles paused as he looked inside another box.

Scott turned toward him. “Did you find them?”

Stiles did not respond.

“Stiles?” Scott walked slowly to Stiles and looked inside the box. It was enchanted to extend and Scott could see why it would be in only one box. Inside, there were several women clothes, a wedding dress, a wand, hundreds of pictures of a young woman with brown hair with a younger John Stilinski. “Hey Stiles, let’s keep looking for the balloons.” Scott tried to guide his friend away from the box but Stiles shrugged him off.

Stiles grabbed the box and sat on the floor slowly taking things out one at time. He took out the wand first. Stiles traced the wand a few times and they both watched it produce a shower of red lights above his head. “Dogwood,” Stiles whispered his voice cracking. He bit his lip trying to stop the tears but he could feel water forming already. He dug his hand in the box again and pulled out a few photos. That’s where he began to cry.

Scott despondently sighed and sat beside Stiles, putting an arm around him.

Stiles traced his hand over them. He hadn’t seen some of these pictures. He paused at one picture where his mother was pregnant with him while baking with magic. Every once in a while she would grab batter and flick it toward the camera. He dug into the box again, avoiding touching the clothes. He knew if he touched the robes, he would be tempted to sniff them and he did not want Scott to see him like that.

“What happened?” Scott asked. He had never asked about Stiles’ mother but he was curious.

Stiles wiped the back of his hand with his shirt. “She got sick. It started when I was four or five. She had uncontrollable magical outburst where things would explode around her or melt. Especially melt. I remember she always complained that she was too hot so she would always wear summer dresses even when it was snowing outside. When I was eight she started getting nightmares.”

Stiles took a few moments to control his breathing as tears dripped down his cheeks. “She would wake up crying and ask where I was and make me promise to never walk on the moon. I don’t know what she meant by it, I know she wanted to tell me but my father would take her back to their room and then they would start yelling and my mom would cry—” He took a shaky breath.

“When I was around nine she just got sicker and sicker. She couldn’t get out of bed; she still felt like she was burning. The healers said her magic was eating her. None of the healers knew what to do. They tried everything. And then one day, the magic just ate her up and well you know.”

Stiles stopped there and just cried. He cried into Scott’s shoulder and his body shook with every sob. Scott wrapped him tighter around his body and let him cry. He put his hand on his back and rubbed circles to calm him down. After a few minutes though, Scott felt his blood circulation cut off across his right side where Stiles was pressed against him. He tried to stretch his legs to get some blood flow going but accidentally kicked the box. They both froze as the box fell and Scott hoped that Stiles wouldn’t cry more but from the box a large leather bound empty book fell open to show a pendant being used as a bookmark.

It was a circle pendant. A gold thick trim surrounded the circle while a red gemstone rested at the inside the upper edge of the circle. Inside the gold trim was a glass case that contained metallic silver grains that filled when there was a full moon, causing the gemstone to shine brightly. When it was a new moon, the metallic silver grains drained and the gemstone became dull. A perfect short thin golden chain held the pendant neatly.

“My mother’s pendant.” Stiles whispered, cradling it in his hand. He chuckled but the tears caused it to come out a bit wrecked. “I wish I could wear it…except it’s kind of girly.”

Scott looked at the pendant. It was beautiful, and he didn’t think it looked girly at all. It looked old and powerful. But maybe he could help for Stiles’ sake. “Wait here.” Scott urged.

“Where are you going?” Stiles asked.

“Just stay here. I’ll be back.” Scott said quickly and then rushed down the attic.

He ran to Stiles’ fireplace and flooed to his own home. He rushed up the stairs toward his mother’s bedroom and scourged the drawer for the jewelry that he knew his mother no longer wore. He found a long thin faux golden chain. It was simple enough that anyone could wear it. He dashed back to the fireplace going to Stiles’ house and went up to the attic where Stiles was still sitting.

“Here!” Scott panted.

Stiles looked up and saw the chain where he smiled brightly. He took the new chain and exchanged it. When he was done, he put on the pendant and it hung down to the middle of his sternum. “Thank you Scott.” Stiles sobbed one last time, pulling his friend for a hug.

“Don’t mention it.” Scott said and pulled Stiles down the attic. “Let’s forget about the balloons for now. You still owe me another game of exploding snap.”

Stiles nodded and bumped shoulders with his best friend as they descended the stairs.

They both played in the living room for a good hour until they burned a hole through the carpet. And Stiles felt somehow relieved. He had not cried that much for his mother since she had died and sharing with Scott felt right. There was no judgment. Nothing. Just compassion.

They played for a few more minutes but then they heard a swoosh from the fireplace. John Stilinski came out and barely greeted the fourteen year old boys as he headed to the kitchen table to rest his things.

“Rough day at work dad?”

“Yeah. Hand me the firewhiskey in the kitchen please.”

Stiles stood up on command and retrieved the amber liquid with a cup. He poured him a glass. “Are the werewolf attacks getting worse?” He asked his father after he downed the firewhiskey in one go. Stiles felt uncomfortable by the action.

John nodded. “Yeah. The Beast Division of the Ministry should be in charge of this but there are too many deaths for them to deal with it that they handed it to me.”

“Do you know why it’s happening?” Scott asked as he pulled a chair next to Stiles.

“Not sure. My best guess is that Deucalion is building an army. But an army for what? I can’t be sure.” John sighed and thanked his son as he poured him another glass.

“Do they really need a reason?” Stiles asked. “We read about them in DADA and they have practically no human soul. They can’t differentiate between wrong and right.”

John nodded. “I know. But I still think there is a motive. Personally I have been seeing how many Deucalion has turned and so far it’s been twenty-two.” He downed his glass again.

“There are twenty-two new werewolves out now!” Scott shouted.

“Yeah. I feel like though he’s using them for something though. Every crime scene there have been werewolf bites on people’s sides but I’m guessing they didn’t survive. You either get turned or die.” John said. “And I think—wait what am I doing? Why am I telling you boys this?”

“Cause you love us and trust us enough to share confidential information?” Stiles asked sweetly.

John rolled his eyes stood up. “No.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Have you boys gotten your Hogwarts letters yet for next term?” John asked, changing the conversation.

“Yup,” Scott said going along with the conversation change.

“I’ll take you boys tomorrow.”

“Don’t you have work?”

“Auror Whittemore is handling whatever plans tomorrow. I want to take you boys out to Diagon Alley. Plus, I actually think both of you need new robes again. Both of you hit a growth spurt.”

Both of them looked down at themselves and shrugged. Stiles turned to his father and watched him drink another glass of firewhiskey. He bit his lip pushing away the last lingering emotions he had faced earlier today and forced a large smile to give to his father. How ironic-nearly three years ago he had complained that his father never showed what he was feeling but the truth was Stiles was the biggest pretender of them all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reviews and reading my story! 
> 
> The story is about to delve into plot so get ready.
> 
> Tell me what you thought about Derek? Claudia Stilinski? The pendant? Which is based off [(X)](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/be/d8/46/bed8469950cb44d7741b276ae2fbc780.jpg) Just imagine the gemstone red. 
> 
> Any feedback is appreciated.


	6. The First Transfer of Power

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fourth Year begins with Peter Hale acquiring new abilities.

The air felt unusually toasty this time of year as summer was coming to a close. Several wizards and witches walked up and down Diagon Alley fanning themselves or walked around with a tempest charm over their heads as they ran errands.

Crowded shops and bustling mothers saying ‘hurry up, dear’ to their sons and daughters could be heard constantly as students from Hogwarts prepared to get ready for the new term.

Scott, Stiles, and Papa Stilinski mutually decided to ignore responsibilities for the time being and found a table outside Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor while each of them enjoyed an ice cream cone. While Scott and John decided to enjoy a normal flavor of just plain vanilla and chocolate, Stiles opted to devour his Horseradish flavored ice cream drizzled in melted blood pops and pieces of licorice wand.

“Son, how can you even eat that?” John asked, nibbling at ice cream cone.

“Didn’t I catch you last week trying to wrap bacon around the strawberries?” Stiles returned.

John pointed an accusing finger at his son. It wasn’t very threatening as his finger was covered with chocolate ice cream. “You said I should eat healthier. The bacon was my incentive.”

Scott finished off his ice cream in a huge bite and made a face as freeze burn hit him. “He’s right you know. It cancels out.”

Stiles waved his arms around as he usually did when he was frustrated. “Oh yeah I forgot it cancels out. Let’s all use that method now and drizzle strawberries in bacon oil and while we are at it why don’t we start making pumpkin juice with a kick of bacon. It cancels out so it must be good for you.” He said sarcastically.

“All right Stiles, calm down. Don’t make a scene.” John chuckled, wiping his fingers with a napkin. “What do you boys need for the term besides new robes?”

“Uh _Standard Book of Spells by Miranda Goshawk_ ,” Scott stated, pulling out their Hogwarts letter. “And… _T_ _he Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_. I think we are reusing the books we have for next year for our other classes.”

“Oh yeah, and I need a new Arithmancy book and a new potion cauldron.” Stiles added quickly.

“I thought that book would be used all your years of Hogwarts. And what happened to your other cauldron?” John asked, already hesitant on the answers.

“Uh well the Arithmancy book I can explain. The last day of class I was speaking to my beautiful Lydia Martin and I thought it would be romantic to have enchanted canaries follow her all around school and sing soft melodies to the love I feel for her…but…”

“-But?” John asked and cast a sidelong look at Scott who began to crack up hysterically.

“She got really annoyed so she sent the canaries back to me bursting in flames and they kind of attacked me. Turns out my Arithmancy book was not a good shield because it combusted-literally the second a canary touched it.” Stiles informed his dad.

“And the cauldron?” John cautiously questioned.

“That one was not my fault!” Stiles defended quickly. “Scott and I were working on a Shrinking Potion together in class when he decided to add too many rat spleens and leech juice. It became so poisonous that it began eating at my cauldron. Though it was kind of funny when it exploded around the classroom. The look on Harris’ face was completely worth it, though he gave me detention for…how long was it Scott?”

“Uh four—for every drop of leech juice that was administered.” Scott laughed.

“And why didn’t _you_ get detention?” John questioned.

Scott shrugged. “Harris knows I suck at potions already. Stiles got the detention cause Harris said that Stiles should know better than to partner with me. Personally, I think he’s right.”

John shook his head. “How did I get stuck with you two boys?” He sighed and stood up. “C’mon let’s go get your books then head to Madam Malkin’s. I have an extra cauldron at home for you Stiles.”

The three of them headed to the Flourish and Blotts first. Stiles was jumping around the aisles with his new books in his arms and maybe if he could convince his father—an advanced spell book for transfiguration. “What do you think of this one?” Stiles asked Scott who already paid for his books.

“Isn’t that for masters?” Scott stated. “Stiles, you’re good but don’t strain your magic on doing complicated spellwork. It’s dangerous.”

Stiles huffed. “Fine…” He placed the book back.

_“Do you happen by any chance to have a copy of the 8th edition of Dark Creatures of the Forest?”_

Stiles and Scott both paused in the aisle. “Was that Jackson?” Scott asked.

Stiles nodded. They both peaked around the aisle and saw Jackson in his impeccable robes by the cashier. “Why do you think he wants that book?” Scott asked.

“Who knows? Jackson is a creep with a fascination with dark creatures.” Stiles stated. He watched with curiosity as the cashier told him they had one copy and he would go get it for him. Stiles stopped peering around and pushed Scott around the corner. “Go! Go! Go!” Stiles shouted in a whisper.

Stiles guided him down the aisle until they reached the creatures section and immediately began looking for the book.

“Stiles, what are you doing?”

“Looking for Jackson’s book.”  

_“Why?”_

Stiles grinned. “So Jackson can’t have it.” Stiles chuckled. He laughed maniacally as he grabbed the book and dashed down another aisle to the cashier line. He gave the book to Scott and rushed to his father who was talking to three elderly witches outside. “Dad!” Stiles yelled. “I found the books I needed.” Stiles urged sputtering.

His dad nodded and gave him the money pouch without turning to him. Stiles grinned and ran back to Scott.

“I’m sorry Mr. Whittemore but it seems the book is not there,” The cashier informed, going round the stand. “I can order a copy for you, but I’m afraid I would have to deliver it to you at Hogwarts.”

“That’s fine,” Jackson grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. “Do I pay now or?”

“I’ll order it after these customers.” The cashier associate motioned for both Scott and Stiles to go forward.

“Stilinski!” Jackson shouted as if he barely noticed he was there.

“Yes, Jackson?” Stiles said coyly.

“What are you doing— _Hey!_ Is that the book I was looking for!” Jackson screeched, stomping forward.

“Uh yeah. Why?” Stiles asked, smirking as he paid.

“You don’t even like learning about stuff like that? Why are you buying it?” Jackson stated.

Stiles grinned. “What are you talking about? I love this stuff.”

Jackson glared at Stiles, but Stiles didn’t even pay attention. He hummed a little tune as he paid for his books as Scott fiddled with his wand in case Jackson made any sudden movements. When he was done, he shot Jackson a sly wink and walked out with Scott to meet his dad.

“You’re lucky Jackson didn’t hex you,” Scott stated.

“Eh, don’t care.” Stiles laughed. “Plus, the book does kind of sounds interesting. I’ll read it at Hogwarts.”

The two joined Stiles’ father again and John informed them that they would be heading to an impromptu trip to Dover Beach. Stiles and Scott lit up as they headed back home to get there stuff.

 

|~~***~~|

 

When Scott and Stiles passed the platform and boarded the train, Stiles immediately pulled on his ‘Lydia Goggles’. Scott was always so impressed on how quickly Stiles found the other girl and he swore Stiles secretly attached an enchantment on her so he knew where she was at all times. He really wouldn’t pass on it.

“Ugh! Great Salazar! There she is!” Stiles pointed down the train’s corridor, sighing.

Scott turned to her and paused while Stiles drooled. Scott was slightly shocked. He knew Lydia Martin was always pretty but the summer did wonders for her. She had grown a little taller and her body was beginning to fill out, something that Lydia noticed as well because she was wearing robes that tastefully highlighted her curves. It hit Scott then that they all changed during the summer.

Stiles was taller and his lanky frame was more prominent as he touched puberty. Scott noticed he had hit a dramatic growth spurt. He was always a head shorter than Stiles but now he noticed that he was only a few inches away from him and judging by how big his feet and hands were he still had some growing to do.

“Oh Merlin, what did Lydia do to her hair?!” Stiles exclaimed. “It’s gorgeous.” He yelped and his voice cracked a bit. While voice cracking was more of last year, it still happened unexpectedly throughout the summer and even now.

Scott didn’t really see anything different with Lydia’s hair other than it was slightly longer, but he did notice that she was twirling a strand of it seductively as a she spoke to another Ravenclaw boy.

“Who is that!” Stiles demanded in outrage.

“I don’t know.” Scott answered. “I think he’s a year ahead of us.”

“Well whoever he is. He needs to step away from Lydia,” Stiles seethed and began marching down the corridor to where Lydia was at, still flirting.

Luckily for Stiles, since Scott was positive if he disturbed Lydia she would hex him, Jackson approached first.

“Who in Salazar’s name is this creature of dirt!” Jackson shouted to Lydia, already with his wand out.

Scott and Stiles stepped back a few feet and watched the confrontation with interest. Lydia rolled her eyes at Jackson. “What do you want _Whittemore_?” She seethed.

“ _Whittemore?!_ What are you talking about Lydia?” Jackson exploded.

“You are Whittemore when you refuse to answer any of my floo calls and my letters this summer!” Lydia accused.

“Lydia I told you I went off to Greece for the summer. I didn’t have access to any of those things.” Jackson explained.

Lydia was quiet. She scanned Jackson up and down a few times, while pursing her lips. She pouted exaggeratedly and then it quickly turned into a grimace. Turning swiftly on her heel, she turned to the Ravenclaw boy. “ _Evanesco_ tall person.”

“What?!” The Ravenclaw interjected.

“I said vanish. I was only using you.” She informed and turned back to Jackson with a smile.

“I’m impressed how well Lydia has Jackson around her finger,” Scott said as he watched the pair leave and the Ravenclaw pass by them in a huff.

“Yeah, isn’t she great.”

Scott rolled his eyes and dragged Stiles along. “C’mon let’s go find a seat.”

As usual, there weren’t any open compartments for them and they couldn’t find Ethan and the other boys so they settled with sharing with Boyd for the fourth year in a row. It was becoming a tradition after all, might as well continue. Except this time, they saw that Boyd was not alone. He was sitting with his fellow Hufflepuffs, Erica and Isaac.

Scott and Stiles shrugged, entering the compartment. Scott sat beside Scott and Stiles next to his friend. They followed the only rule in the compartment, no talking to Boyd, and got comfortable. After the train began to move, the pair really didn’t mean to eavesdrop but it was difficult when they rarely heard Boyd talk.

“How was your summer Erica?” Boyd greeted.

The shaken girl, who was still a mess of yellow, looked at Stiles first before speaking to Boyd. “Ok. I stayed at home most of the time and I only had two attacks. What about you?”

“Attacks?!” Scott reiterated with shock.

Boyd sent a sharp glare in Scott’s direction that Scott held down. Erica placed a hand on Boyd’s bicep. “It’s fine, Boyd. Uh I have epilepsy.” She informed.

“What’s that?” Stiles asked.

Erica bit her bottom lip and gave Stiles her undivided attention. “It’s a disease that’s found in muggle world. I was born with it since I’m muggleborn and apparently, my magic just heightens it. Healers and muggle doctors haven’t found a cure for me so I have to suffer through seizures.”

“That’s what you had in the greenhouse second year?” Stiles asked putting the pieces together.

She nodded shyly and turned back to Boyd as he told her how he spent his summer getting a job as working a zamboni. Scott and Stiles didn’t know what that was and didn’t want to anger Boyd by asking him.

Instead, Scott turned to Isaac with a kind smile. The fourteen-year-old boy though was looking outside the window blocking out the world. Scott was about to get his attention but then he saw bruises along the boys’ wrist. He also saw that the boy was nursing a healing black eye. Scott turned inconspicuously to Stiles and nudged his shoulder where he pointed to Isaac. Stiles looked at the other and his eyebrows furrowed his confusion.

“Uh Isaac?” Scott tentatively asked, getting the boy’s attention. Isaac didn’t turn to look at him. Scott nudged his shoulder gently, scared that the boy had more bruises under his clothes but as he reached forward, he heard a small little whine. He looked down and saw a rat climb out of Isaac’s robes. “Hey Aries!” Scott cheered, picking up the Dumbo Rat. Working with Isaac for the better part of third year in Care of Magical Creatures, really made the rat accustomed to him.

Isaac then turned, looking at his rat hoping to Scott’s shoulder. Scott smiled in Isaac’s direction. “How was Aries this summer?”

“Noisy and restless,” Isaac answered.

Scott played with the rat for a few minutes and then gave him back to Isaac where he leaned and whispered softly so not even Stiles could hear. “Did you get new friends?” He asked pointing to Boyd and Erica.

Isaac shook his head. “I didn’t have anywhere else to sit.”

“Oh.” Scott said. “We’ll then I guess it’s still my job to make sure you don’t get expelled. K?”

Isaac gave him a strange look and nodded. “Okay.”

 

|~~***~~|

 

After the first weeks of classes, many students in the Gryffindor common room celebrated with much partying and drinking. The prefects in need for a bit of rebellion themselves snuck in firewhiskey for the younger students but were responsible enough to not give any to anyone under the age of fourteen. They had to keep some semblance of order. So when the partying commenced, naturally Stiles was in the common room with them, screaming in joy and dancing with the rest.

A seventh year’s wireless blasted the band Felix Felicis Fellers and older band The Weird Sisters, which made everyone obnoxiously sing along.

By the end of the night, the entire room was covered in several bottles of firewhiskey disguised with bottles of butterbeer in case Finstock ever came into the room, and sweets. Almost all of the students retired back to their room to nurse their inebriated states, but only about eight students, those who were drunk to move, stayed in the common room sleeping on the floors and on the couches.

While Stiles and Scott were nowhere near intoxicated as the seventh years who had lain claim to the coffee tables as beds, they were still pretty drowsy as it was their first time drinking so they opted to stay on level ground instead of climbing the stairs or return to the Slytherin common room.

Stiles was sprawled on top of Scott in a tangle of limbs on the couch. Both of them slowly began to feel the pull of alcohol lulling them to sleep, but it still felt a far way off which made them feel weird. Stiles fumbled with his mother’s pendant as he listened to Scott’s steady heartbeat. The silver sand was filled all the way and the gemstone was shining a bright red. He pressed his thumb against the warm gemstone and sighed against Scott’s chest. Scott grunted and nudged Stiles’ shoulder to tell him to go to sleep. Stiles groaned and got more comfortable on top of Scott, their usual sleeping arrangement they had taken up third year as they discovered they were getting too big for the beds. Neither minded, both openly loved to cuddle, which was a running joke within the fourth year Gryffindor dorms.

Both of them however, shot up quickly when they heard a door from upstairs creek. They looked to the other students but all of them were fast asleep. Stiles then pointed to the staircase where they heard the footsteps. At the foot of the stairs, they saw Cora. She looked strange. Her usually perfectly combed hair was in a fray, her eyes rimmed with black, and lips tight.

“Cora?” Scott asked. He gently pushed, Stiles off him so they were now sitting up.

Cora looked at both of them with wide eyes. “You’re supposed to be in your rooms.” She lectured.

“And so are you.” Scott and Stiles said in tandem.

Cora narrowed her eyes but the tired look across her face made her usual potent glares less intimidating. “What are you doing up?” Scott decided to ask.

“Where are you going?” Stiles quickly asked after. He noticed that Cora was not only awake but she was fully dressed and had her robes on.

“Uh…it’s none of your business.” She said and then began to head to the portrait hole.

“Uh it kind of is when you are walking around Hogwarts at night.” Stiles informed.

Cora shot another glare. “I left something in the Great Hall. I was going to go get it.”

“We’ll go with you,” Scott stated, standing up on shaking feet.

“NO!” Cora proclaimed too quickly.

Stiles raised an eyebrow. “All right then. I hope one of the professors or prefects catch you after hours then,” Stiles stated and stretched on the couch. Cora could go get caught for all he cared. She was not his friend in anyway so he didn’t have to worry about her. Plus, he only made a pact not to prank the Hales, he didn’t promise that he was going to be some Hale protector. “Can I sleep over?” Stiles asked, turning away from the portrait hole. Stiles noticed that Scott seemed more reluctant to turn away from Cora, but Stiles pegged it to Scott’s Gryffindor attitude.

“Cora is this about your home?” Scott asked.

Stiles slapped his hand to his forehead. Leave it to Scott to ask the personal questions. He didn’t even bother to turn around. He knew Cora was glaring. He heard her footsteps and she pushed Scott down on the couch. “How dare _you_ talk about my home.” She whispered in a level-headed scorn. She turned to the drunken Gryffindors sleeping around the common room and took a calm breath as to not wake them. She crouched low and pinned Scott further into the couch pressing her forearm against his neck. “Don’t _ever_ talk to me about my home.”

“Hey _**Cora**_!” Stiles asserted, sitting up.

Cora turned her glare on Stiles and Stiles froze. There was no denying that she was a Hale. Her brother had given him the same ferocious gaze on him last year. However, when she saw him her ferocity diminished in an instant and her nostrils flared. She turned to Scott and her eyes opened wide. She quickly scrambled off him and without preamble rushed out of the Gryffindor common room, holding her nose.

“What the hell?!” Stiles whispered but then he turned to Scott who did not answer him. He saw him rubbing his neck. Stiles made him pull away and his eyes bulged. “Fuck! She bruised your neck!”

“Is it bad?” Scott asked, coughing a bit.

“A little. Does it hurt?”

“It feels like a bruise.”

“We’ll go to the Hospital Wing tomorrow morning, kay?”

“Yeah.” Scott agreed. And then looked to the portrait hole. “I wonder where she’s going.”

 

|~~***~~|

 

Lydia watched the others in the Dueling Club train. Yet again, they had a new DADA teacher and he was just as incompetent as the last. He focused more on theory than practice and although that meant that Lydia was going to get outstanding grades, it meant she was not truly learning. She needed to practice and she felt like this was a perfect outlet. It also proved a great way for her to have control over a group of people.

She walked in between the dueling pairs and watched Scott send Jackson flying through the sky and land harshly on his back. Lydia chuckled as Jackson let out a spur of curses and shoot a few spells back at Scott that Scott was able to block. She then turned to the other pairs. Cora was fighting with Danny and both of them were sparing well.

She then turned to the Stilinski boy who was dueling with Greenberg. Greenberg was winning, which was saying something on Stilinski’s skill level. Stilinski really was not a good duelist at all. She almost pitied him. Almost. His stupid stunts with trying to get her attention made her completely disregard him. Stiles didn’t love her. He didn’t even like her. If he did, he would put his stunts of fake bravado down for a few seconds and just to speak to her, but he never did. He was just like the others looking to her as a trophy and she did not want to be diminished to that level. The only person who looked to her as a person was Jackson.

Jackson had been her best friend before Hogwarts. Both of them came from pureblood families and they tended to flock together. And Jackson was always there for her even when he thought he wasn’t.

He was there when she was placed in Ravenclaw, a house that she truly did not want to be in. It made people see easily how truly smart she was. She did not want to be openly smart. Her mother had always taught her good manners and aiming to become a trophy wife for a pureblood husband was ideal. And then to be placed in Ravenclaw, it was everything her mother advised against. She couldn’t even fake her smartness in Ravenclaw. They would know. She was lucky enough though that she could conceal herself well in other matters; otherwise, they would see what she went through.

Jackson was there for her when her parents divorced in second year. He came to her and hugged her, rocked her to sleep when she cried. He bought her favorite candy when her parent’s gifts arrived every week trying to get her attention. He was there, more than anyone else in her life ever was. But she wanted more people there for her, not just Jackson. But she knew no one was coming to her because she wasn’t perfect enough.

She jumped out of her thoughts when she heard a sharp bang from the broom closet. Apparently, everyone else heard it because they all paused their training. Lydia turned to the broom closet and the bang ricocheted again.

“It’s a boggart.” Jackson informed, standing to his feet. Honestly, how many times can a boy be knocked down in half an hour.

“A boggart!” Lydia cried with excitement. “This is perfect. We learned about them last year but we didn’t get a chance to practice on them. Let’s practice now.”

“Aren’t boggarts dangerous?” Danny asked.

“Not if you are in a big group. They get too confused.” Jackson continued to explain.

“Exactly! C’mon everyone line up!” Lydia ordered. Everyone surprisingly listened, except Stilinski. She was going to raise an argument but she did not want to acknowledge the boy. “McCall you go last. You’ll probably have the strongest effect on it and diminish it.” McCall nodded and headed to the back of the line.

Lydia went first. She flicked the broom closet open with her wand and then the boggart emerged. She knew everyone was confused when they saw hers. The boggart was a spitting image of herself—excluding the clothes and makeup. They were her most expensive robes and her makeup was over the top, something she would do going to a pureblood event. She did not let the people ponder it too much before she cast the spell.

“ _Riddikulus!_ ” She shouted. Everyone let out a soft giggle when the charm hit the boggart and caused it to turn into a small ragdoll. When she turned behind her, everyone looked at her with confusion. Lydia rolled her eyes. “Did you see those shoes with that top? It was last season! Of course I would be scared of wearing something like that!”

Nobody said anything.

Jackson was next. She watched the boggart transform and in place, two gravestones appeared with two separate hands appearing from the ground. She knew the others were too far away to see it, but she could see the inscription clearly on the gravestone. They were Jackson’s parents who had passed away. She knew Jackson was afraid of being a failure to them but she did not know how that was possible. Jackson was perfect.

“ _Riddikulus!_ ”

Two figures popped out of the ground and in place two funny faceless puppets danced on the graves. People chuckled. He passed by her and she gave him a quick hand squeeze before watching the other people take over. She saw a few other people go up and she really did not pay attention, but she heard other people laughing so she assumed everything was all good.

Then Cora Hale went up. The boggart turned quickly into a rush of flames surroundings the entire room that had all the members screaming and closing in together to avoid the flames but then Cora waved her wand and cast the charm. The flames erupted into a flurry of red and orange streamers and then confetti flew all around them.

Everyone laughed and giggled like children at that.

About five more people went up where their boggarts involved creatures until McCall approached. The boggart transformed into a man that looked remarkably similar to McCall. Scott breathed deeply as the man glared at Scott. “ _Riddikulus!_ ” The man’s muggle clothes changed into a pink dress with a yellow wig, which reminded Lydia briefly of McCall’s and Stilinski’s prank from first year. Everyone remembered that as well because they immediately began laughing and the laughter caused the Boggart to just vanish.

McCall turned to Stilinski and the other boy gave him a thumbs up where they began talking. She ignored them and took control of the class once more.

  
  


|~~***~~|

 

Peter looked outside the large window that overlooked much of London. He never really appreciated living in muggle London. He much preferred living in the countryside where the old Hale Manor was. However, even after rebuilding the home after it burned to the ground, one could not get rid of the smell of burning flesh that settled itself into the ground.

He could not stand it and neither could his nieces and nephew. He wanted to take them to a true home in the woods but he couldn’t—Laura would not allow it. Laura was the Alpha and he had to respect her decisions, even if it meant living in a townhouse surrounded by muggles.

Peter rubbed the bridge of his nose and pressed his forehead against the window.

“If you keep sighing, I’m going to wring your neck,” Laura stated.

Peter turned around and leaned his weight against the window. Laura was at her desk on the far side of the room, marking and signing papers. Today was her day off the Wizengamot but it still meant she had to look over many trials, as she was an assistant to one of the high-ranking judges.

“Sorry Laura,” Peter said, and he walked to one of the couches in the sitting room. He sprawled dramatically across it.

“Is this the part where I ask you what’s wrong?” Laura asked, putting her papers to the side. “Or can it wait till later. I have to deliver these papers by next week and I’m nowhere done.”

Without looking at his niece, he asked, “Why do you work for the Wizengamot?”

“Somebody needs to pay the bills.”

“We have a fortune in Gringotts.”

“That money is for Derek and Cora when they are of age.”

“You know as well as I do, we can take at least two percent out of the fortune and we can pay this flat for the next eighty years. I’m asking why do you work for the Wizengamot? If they find out you are a werewolf—they find out any of us are werewolves—they will take us immediately to be executed. You know how they execute our kind. They start with whips and then behead us with a pure silver axe, though the silver is more as decoration. I still can’t believe wizards think silver hurts us.”

Laura ignored Peter’s tangent and interrupted before he could continue. “We have been hiding the werewolf strain in the Hales for over eight hundred years, Peter. The wizards are not going to find out about any of us. And I work for them because I am good at what I do. Why can’t you accept the fact that I like working for them?”

“Because I find it hard to believe that my sister, Talia did not teach you anything about being an Alpha. Being an Alpha is your job and you aren’t doing it. Our pack is weakened, Laura. We need to go to the country to group ourselves. Go out for runs! Just like we used to before the fire. And you as an Alpha are supposed to help. Instead you are as if you were never been as a werewolf at all, you’re acting as if you are ashamed of it.”

“I am helping!” Laura growled.

“Really Laura,” Peter stood up and leaned against the couch. “Because in case you haven’t noticed, Derek and Cora haven’t been able to control themselves on the full moon since the fire. You need to spend time with them and walk them through the full moon.”

“I don’t have time.”

“You never have time for anything,” Peter growled. “You don’t even have time to talk to Deucalion.”

“Deucalion was my mother’s friend—not mine.”

“He should be though!”

“He’s out killing innocent wizards and witches and taking those that do survive into his pack.” Laura growled, shifting slightly. She brought it back in control. “Why should I befriend someone who acts like an uncivilized beast?”

Peter jumped down from the staircase and approached Laura in quick strides. “To talk him out of it. Have you read the paper recently? He has converted twenty-five werewolves now. You know Laura what Deucalion is trying to do. He needs fifty werewolves to complete his ritual. He has half now. Do you know what in the world will happen if he converts fifty?”

Laura growled loudly and Peter took a step back. “Of course I do! We can’t do anything about it. Let the Aurors handle it.”

“We can do something. You can do something! Make us strong. Convert other wizards and witches to join our pack so our pack grows strong. Then we can fight Deucalion and stop him from doing this.”

“I’m not converting anyone. Do you know how stupid that would be? I could kill someone, not everyone who is bitten turns, Peter! And I’m not fighting Deucalion. Deucalion was a damaged individual _long_ before our entire family died. His pack and Kali’s and Ennis’ were killed by Hunters and Aurors. Deucalion is doing this only for revenge and because of it, he’s going to make a mistake sooner or later. The Aurors will catch him. There is no reason for us to interfere. If we interfere then there will be a strong chance the wizarding world discovers who we are. We can’t have that happen.”

“If we don’t interfere, Aurors and more people will be killed. And who cares if people find out about us! Maybe it will be a good thing. They will see that we aren’t the evil werewolves that these stupid wizards have prejudice on. And you know we can stop Deucalion!” Peter growled, his werewolf side emerged.

Laura glared directly at her uncle, letting the red of her eyes shine brightly. “I will _not_ intervene.”

Peter scoffed and turned back to the window. “I have no idea why Talia’s power went to you. It should have gone to me. I have what’s left of this pack’s interest at heart. I will do anything for it. And I have the interest of all werewolves at heart.”

“You do?” Laura laughed bitterly.

Peter turned back to her and grinned slyly. “Oh yes.”

And then without waiting Peter shifted completely heading toward Laura quickly. Laura was confused but she turned quickly into a wolf, dodging Peter. Peter knocked roughly against, Laura’s desk, splitting it in two. Laura slid against the floor to regain her balance and Peter came again with claws extended. Laura launched herself at Peter pinning him to the ground and snapping at his neck. Peter groaned under the pressure at his ribs and with all his strength slid from under her.

He pulled his wand from underneath his clothes and pointed it at Laura.

Laura reared back slightly but her red eyes shone brighter. Peter took a step forward and Laura took a step back toward the door. “What’s wrong Laura?”

Laura shifted to her human form. “Why are you doing this?”

“I am prepared to do whatever it takes for my family. Deucalion will endanger them. This is me protecting them.”

“You can’t kill me. I’m stronger.” Laura warned and then to emphasize her point she walked close to Peter and stared him down.

Peter smirked. He took several steps back and she followed each one with determined strides.

When Peter had her where he wanted, he grinned maliciously when she froze. She banged her open palm against the barrier and when she saw the mountain ash circle around her she growled. “How, werewolves can’t cast this?” She growled, slamming against the barrier.

“They can’t.”

A figure emerged from the shadows and smirked at Laura.

“You?!” Laura hissed.

“ _Obliviate!_ ” The figure said.

Laura was hit with the spell so roughly she knocked out to the floor. Peter approached his niece and stared at the twenty-one year old with distaste.

“Stop dramatically stalling and get done with it.” The figure told Peter.

“Then break the circle.”

With a flick of the figure’s wand, Peter bent down on the floor. Extending the claws of his left hand he dug it into the middle of his niece’s chest and then pressed his wand against her temple. “ _Adepto Potentia_.” Laura in her unconscious state, whimpered as she felt something catch in her throat. Peter dug his claws deeper and repeated the spell. Laura awoke slowly as she felt something escaping her. When she looked to Peter, she could see a wisp of red smoke transfer from her eyes to his.

She cried out in pain when his claws removed from her chest. Peter hovered over her. His new red eyes scanning. He smirked as he watched the figure behind Laura apparate away. With his bloodied hand, he pressed it into his niece’s throat. The girl began to scream in a choked manner. “You said you weren’t going to interfere. Remember?” Peter said and watched his niece black out on the floor.

He smirked and cracked his neck a few times feeling the Alpha power rise in his body.

 _Now_ …to find Cora and Derek.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like the chapter.
> 
> As a reference Adepto Potentia literally means Get Power. 
> 
> For the people who were waiting for Peter, here you go! Hope you liked him. Tell me what you thought about Cora, and try to guess the figure! 
> 
> Comments are always appreciated.


	7. The Bite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott and Stiles run into a pack of werewolves and things don't seem that great.

Lydia Martin chatted with Danny as they sat together at Three Broomsticks as they waited for Jackson to return with their order of butterbeers.

“Look at him,” Danny smirked. “Someone needs to tell him.”

“Do you want to face Jackson’s wrath?” Lydia snickered.

“No, you should tell him. He’s your best friend.”

“He’s yours too.”

“You were his first. And he’ll go easy on you. He adores you.”

“Please,” Lydia sneered. “If he truly did, he would not protest as much to get his friends a few drinks.”

“Doth protests so much because he loves seeing you make a reaction. Which brings up my point, you tell him. Look, he’s coming; tell him.”

“Tell me what?” Jackson questioned, setting the butterbeer down on their table.

Danny gave Lydia a look. Lydia groaned, giving in, and petted Jackson’s hair. “Jackson, there is so much product in your hair. You look ridiculous.”

Jackson turned a beet red. “What?”

“We’ve been trying to tell you since you left the castle.” Lydia informed. “Next time, let me style it.”

Jackson batted her hands away. Danny laughed before taking a sip of his drink. “I did not.” Jackson protested. “And I’m not going to let you give me fashion makeover.”

“Why not?” Lydia pouted.

“Oh, c’mon Jackson her makeovers aren’t that bad.” Danny grinned. “I survived two of them last year.”

“You willingly went to her, it doesn’t count.” Jackson informed.

“I did not. On both instances, you knocked me out and took me to the Ravenclaw dorm where you told Lydia to work her magic on me because I had a date.”

“I wanted you to look hot for your date,” Jackson said. “Is it a crime I want my best friend to be the second best looking guy in Slytherin?”

“It could be considered a crime. You brought him to me in ropes.” Lydia inputted with a chuckle. “In which, I’m sure Danny would love to return the favor and let me work my magic on you.”

“I don’t have a date, no need.”

“No, but I do want you to look absolutely gorgeous when you're in the presence of me.”

“She’s right.” Danny said. “You need to look spectacular in the presence of our divine Lydia Martin.”

Lydia beamed in Danny’s direction and then both gave the smile to Jackson. He groaned and turned to Lydia. “If I say no now, what are the chances you and Danny will ambush me in the middle of the night.”

“Fifty percent, there are plenty of opportunities to ambush you throughout the day. I don’t know why we would restrict it to the middle of the night.” Lydia said kindly.

“Ugh fine. When we get back to the castle I guess.”

Lydia grinned and planted a quick kiss to Jackson’s cheek. Not a moment later, a random butterbeer bottle came flying from nowhere and splattered against Jackson’s clothes. Jackson stood quickly, knocking his stool backwards. “All right who is responsible for this?!” Jackson seethed.

And then the seconds ticked by where no one made a move, and out of nowhere all the cups, glasses, and utensils in the pub flew into the air and then began to dash all across the room. Everyone screeched, and tried to duck down. Lydia sighed and cast a protego charm on herself and around Danny. Butterbeer and firewhiskey and other drinks splashed against her shield while Jackson became completely drenched in them. Good, at least the product will wash away now.

Lydia rolled her eyes as Jackson tried to find the culprit. If he only bothered to turn his head to the right, he would see it was that Stilinski boy who had lost control of a simple levitation charm. The utmost idiot. She examined her nails and resumed talking with Danny as if nothing had happened.

It was then at the corner of her eye she could see the Hale siblings walking at a fast pace toward the Shrieking Shack. That was weird.

|~~***~~|

 

The cold early October air had Scott and Stiles shivering when they were blown out of the Three Broomsticks’ quite literally. They both landed on the ground with a heavy grunt. With their luck, both of them fell flat on their face. They turned over groaning while they nursed their bruised body.

“I will not tolerate such juvenile behavior at my establishment! Both of you are now banned from entering my pub. If I see any of you in here I will not hesitate to hex both of you!” The owner of the pub shouted, flicking her wand madly.

“Wait? What?!” Scott yelled. He scrambled to get onto his hands and knees. The owner huffed and slammed the pub door. Scott cracked his neck to face his best friend. “What the hell Stiles?”

“I didn’t mean to!” Stiles defended, getting up.  He pulled Scott up by his forearm as he wiped the dead leaves off his friend’s shoulders.

“ _You broke all her mugs_!” Scott boomed.

“It was an accident. I was aiming for Jackson. I didn’t know the spell would have an effect on her entire kitchen set!”

Scott rolled his eyes, exasperation falling in waves. “That’s it. New rule you are not allowed to prank outside Hogwarts, they always backfire on us.”

“ _What?!_ ” Stiles proclaimed. “C’mon buddy, it was an accident.”

Scott glared at Stiles. It was one of those rare instances. “No Pranks!” Peeved and frustrated could not even begin to describe how Scott was feeling on being kicked out of one of the more popular pubs Hogsmeade had to offer. He had to set some discipline with his best friend or sooner or later someone was going to get expelled.

Stiles sighed dramatically. “Fine, no pranking outside of Hogwarts.”

“Good.” Scott said, his glare turning quickly into a soft smile. “So what do you want to do now? We still have like a good two hours before we have to head back up to the castle.”

“I don’t know,” Stiles shrugged as he looked around Hogsmeade. They had been nearly to every shop in Hogsmeade and they didn’t have enough money on them to go to Honeydukes to stock up on their candy pile. “We never went to the Shrieking Shack last year. Want to go?”

“Isn’t it haunted?” Scott advised.

“What is the Gryffindor is scared?” Stiles teased.

Scott pushed his friend roughly. Stiles pushed back. “No, let’s go.”

 

|~~***~~|

 

“Cora, stop.” Derek beseeched as Cora once again snuck her hand inside Derek’s bag and stole another chocolate frog.

“What? You’re not eating it,” She commented, putting the frog in her mouth.

“I was going to eat it when we got back to the castle.”

“Whatever. You wouldn’t even have that chocolate if it wasn’t for me. I don’t understand why you never leave the castle all you nowadays is study and attend your new prefect duties. You need to lighten up.” She waved him off and continued walking down the High Road. “Hey, have you received anything from Laura this week?”

“No…” Derek answered. “Did you find it odd too?”

“Yeah. She writes every week.”

“Maybe she’s busy at her job.” Derek suggested and he gave a small inconspicuous growl when Cora reached for his bag of sweets. His sister pouted and continued walking.

“Or Peter annoyed her to death,” Cora suggested. “Did you know he sent me a howler a few days ago that didn’t yell at me but instead recited his stupid poems on the history of the most infamous witch harlots? I sent him the most crude letter possible so he would never do it again.”

“He’s fond of you. You’re the youngest.” Derek commented.

Cora crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s creepy.”

Derek let out a rare chuckle but it was cut short when he smelled something in the air. He stopped in the middle of the road and sniffed the air again. “Cora, we need to get back to the castle.”

“Why?”

“I smell other werewolves…three of them.”

“Why not just guide them to a secluded area and we’ll deal with them there?”

Derek paused again. “Cause I smell three Alphas. _Shit_.”

Cora froze. “What?”

“They got our scent.”

“What do we do?”

“We can’t go to the castle. They might start a scene. Let’s go to the Shrieking Shack, we can lose them there.” Derek informed, pulling at his younger sister’s arm. “When I tell you to run. You run. Got it?”

“I’m not going to leave you alone.”

“Cora, now is not the time. If I tell you to run, you run, got it.”

Cora sighed in defeat but nodded. Both of them with their heads hung low began to walk to the Shrieking Shack.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Deucalion, Kali, and Ennis had their hoods pulled up as they sat in the Hog’s Head. There were other individuals who were adorning the same appearance so no one found it odd when these suspicious people entered the establishment. All three of them were weary of running from the Aurors and they quickly learned that if they showed up in populated areas like Hogsmeade the Aurors would less likely be there.

"We need to turn more," Ennis spoke gruffly.

"We can't," Kali seethed to Ennis under her breath. "I say we take a smart approach to all of this and take a few months off this. It will make the Aurors lose our trail."

"We need twenty-five more," Ennis growled under his breath to not alert the other patrons. "We need them by next year's lunar eclipse. If we miss it we can't complete the ritual."

"We will make it." Kali stated.

"Hush both of you," Deucalion said where he had been quiet sipping some firewhiskey. "Kali is right we need to take a few months off turning." Kali smirked in Ennis' direction. "But we cannot afford that luxury. It’s taken us this long to convert twenty-five, we can’t slack off." Deucalion leaned forward and the other two did as well. "I have been reading the ritual more closely and it does not completely require ones that I have turned. We can use others who have been born or bitten by another.”

"Born ones would hardly want to participate in what we have planned.” Kali interrupted. “Those were born know that this is a gift. They wouldn’t want to give it up for a sacrifice. That's why we are turning people; they would rather die than be what they are now."

"I'm sure we can use born ones as long as they have been inflicted with the same turmoil as us. They would gladly be a sacrifice.” Deucalion sat up straighter. "For example, the two out on the High Road would be an excellent addition.”

Kali and Ennis perked up and looked around. Deucalion though did not pay attention to their antics. He stood up gracefully and made his way outside the pub. The other two Alphas had no choice but to follow.

Deucalion sniffed the air a bit and grinned menacingly. "They are going to the Shrieking Shack. Let's go."

 

|~~***~~|

 

Derek and Cora resisted the urge to sprint, as the Alpha's scent got closer. If they ran, they would alert the other students and Derek did not want to place the other students in danger if the werewolves attacked. Both of them took a sharp turn at the road and they could see the Shrieking Shack in the distance. They walked faster. Derek thought perhaps they could make it into the Shrieking Shack and use its secret passageway to go into Hogwarts. It was a perfect plan. When they reached the gate of the Shrieking Shack, they heard a menacing growl that had them freeze.

Derek only let the hesitation last for a few moments. "Cora! Run!" Derek shouted. They were close maybe he could get his sister to safety.

Cora began to dash but then a muscled-hooded figure jumped in front of her and growled. Cora fell backwards, startled. The muscled figure stomped his way toward her so Cora had no choice but to crawl and retreat to Derek. Soon, the two were surrounded by the three werewolves on all sides.

"Hales?" One of the figures asked. "This is a nice surprise." The man removed his hood and Derek recognized the werewolf, but only minimally. It was Deucalion, a past friend of his mother’s. He looked the same as ever. His cloudy eyes followed their movements as if he could see, but Derek knew better. Deucalion had been blinded by hunters years ago.

The other two removed their hoods. Derek only recognized the others from the papers, Kali and Ennis.

"What do you want?" Derek seethed, shielding Cora.

Deucalion rolled his eyes. "Straight to point. I like this one. Just like his mother."

Cora shifted into her Beta form behind Derek and growled in Deucalion's direction. Deucalion laughed. "What do you think Kali? Ennis? Think they will understand our cause and join us?”

Derek’s brows furrowed. "What?"

Deucalion tried to smile kindly in the Hales’ direction, but it came off as more of a sneer. "I have been speaking to Kali and Ennis and we are trying to form a pack, but I would have preferred having a pack of born werewolves. They are much more perfect and understand our pain."

"We already have a pack." Cora hissed behind Derek.

"Oh I forgot," Deucalion said. "After the fire, your eldest sister became the Alpha. She hasn't been a very good Alpha though. I can tell from looking at both of you that you can't control your selves. As an Alpha, she should have taken care of that eons ago."

Derek shifted next, growling in Deucalion's face. "If you think we will join your pack after killing innocent wizards all throughout Britain you are mistaken.”

Deucalion rolled his eyes again. "Those are just semantics, Derek. Those people died on their own. Not my fault they didn't survive the bite."

"The answer still stands. No." Derek said, keeping his voice leveled.

Kali who had been keeping quiet finally spoke. "We can always force them, Deucalion. Look at them they're children."

While the five individuals were arguing back and forth, their senses had dimmed, so when a new scent entered the area all of them paused. It was the undeniable scent of human. Everyone looked to the two fourth years at the end of the road.

"Uh..." Stiles stuttered looking at the crowd. "You know what; we’ll check out the Shrieking Shack later. I didn't even want to go in that much. We’ll just leave you to keep talking." Stiles and Scott both began to turn around but Kali was quick. She dashed and jumped over them. Both boys halted, gaping at their captor.

"Stiles...werewolves." Scott gasped, reaching for his friend.

"Oh really? I thought they were werebunnies." Stiles shouted sarcastically.

"Kali!" Deucalion yelled behind them. "Bring them. We can make use of them."

"WHAT?!" Stiles shrieked. "No one is making me use of anything. My dad is Head Auror so you better let us go."

"Kali bring them." Deucalion repeated.

Kali approached the two boys but then Scott pulled out his wand from his robes. " _Bombarda!_ " He shouted. A huge explosion ricocheted. It didn't have much of an effect on Kali but it did send her back a few feet. "Oh shit!" Scott screeched as they saw Kali come toward them again. Both of them tried to run back from where they had come from, but then Ennis pursued the chase.

Derek’s heart palpitated quickly at the sight. He could not let the humans get hurt. Without thinking, he ran after Ennis and latched onto his back. The two fell backwards into the dried leaves around their feet. Cora had the same idea as her brother and sprinted toward Kali. When she yanked the older woman by the neck, Scott and Stiles most definitely did not miss her super speed.

"Cora!" Scott shouted as the two women tumbled into the ground.

"Oh holy Merlin. They're all werewolves," Stiles wheezed, pulling Scott with him and leading him toward the forest. Deucalion, who had been watching the scene with bemusement was there by the two boys in an instant.

" _Stupefy!_ " Scott shouted. The spell hit Deucalion but he brushed it off.

"Ok, that didn't work," Scott gaped, until both him and Stiles were pinned against the tree.

Meanwhile, Derek was fighting with all his strength. He swiped his claws on Ennis' right side. Ennis dodged and his claws made it into Derek's flank. Derek stepped far enough for the claws to dislodge; ignoring the pain, he aimed again.

Cora was not doing so well. Kali threw the girl like a ragdoll across the clearing. Each time, Cora tried to escape Kali’s clutches, Kali was there gripping an ankle and throwing her fiercely against the trees. Cora crashed amongst the trees, the bark of them splintering at the force. Cora attempted to stand, but Kali did a roundhouse kick slashing Cora across the face.

Scott and Stiles took in the disarray in front of them, with utmost panic. They didn’t know what to do.  

As calmly as possible, Deucalion wrapped his hands around each of their necks, suspending them in midair. "I don't know which to bite first."

"Bite?" Stiles squealed. "You're going to turn us?"

Deucalion smiled toward Stiles. He brought the boy close and sniffed his neck. Stiles went completely still. "Why do you smell so good?" He sniffed again.

Stiles whimpered. "Well thank you. It's uh lemon verbena. But if I ever make it out of here alive I will be sure to switch to wolfsbane scented soap from now on." Stiles stated, hoping his witty banter would buy him some time.

Deucalion ignored him and set Scott down. Scott fell to the ground with a heavy thump. Disregarding his lost breath, he stood quickly and tried to forcefully yank Deucalion off Stiles. Deucalion did not even budge. "I can smell the magic bubbling underneath your skin." Deucalion sighed. "Oh, I can't wait to turn you. Just imagine the power."

Deucalion’s canines protruded from his gums. Stiles struggled fiercely and tried to grab his wand, but it was out of reach. Scott, who had been watching the scene with horror, fired a spell unfrightened of the consequences of attacking a werewolf. " _Bombarda!_ "

The effect of the spell had a strange reaction in Scott's panicked form. The explosion flung Deucalion opposite of the clearing and Stiles toward Scott until they landed close to the Shrieking Shack. Both of them banged their heads on the gate and fell to the ground "Oh fuck!" Stiles gasped, clutching his neck, trying to sit up.

Scott watched the others. Deucalion had flown Merlin knows where into the dense trees and he seemed for the moment unconscious if his lack of appearance said anything. However, Ennis and Kali were still fighting with the Hales.

Scott extended his wand. " _Bombarda_!" Scott shouted, apparently it was the only spell that seemed to have an effect on the werewolves. The spell hit the ground. Ennis avoided but Kali wasn’t quick enough. She fell back a few feet and when she was back on solid ground, she charged at the two boys sitting at the gate.

"No!" Derek growled. He avoided a pair of claws by the back of his head and he ran, pushing Kali to the ground. Cora, who had finally gotten a break from Kali stood on shaky legs. She looked to the boys and her heart clenched as they gave her equal looks of horror.  Scott and Stiles were terrified of her. She couldn’t blame them. She was in her Beta form and covered completely in blood. "Go!" She yelled at them.

Scott and Stiles looked around. They were scared of moving in case they alerted the werewolves. "Go! You idiots!" She shrieked. They watched Ennis return to Derek and soon both he and Kali were clawing at Derek, leaving him a bloody mess on the autumn leaves and dried yellow grass.

"Where?" Scott called.

"The Shrieking Shack! A tunnel will lead you back to Hogwarts! Now go!" Cora growled and launched at Kali. Kali fell back and Cora got a few moments of satisfaction as she was able to punch Kali in the face and break her nose.

Scott and Stiles slowly got up, supporting each other. They headed to the Shrieking Shack with their wands extended. They were slow in their movements as they ran up the hill and both Scott and Stiles thought they were going to die. It seemed like ages before they reached the battered house even though they were only a few yards away. They pulled the door open and both tumbled inside. Stiles cast a locking charm on the door.

"I don't think that's going to keep a freaking werewolf out, Stiles!" Scott shouted, pulling at his friend. "Let's go."

It was immensely dark inside the shack that both Stiles and Scott had to cast Lumos spells.

"Oh fucking Merlin! Werewolves!" Stiles shrieked, bordering on hysterical.

"Just shut up!" Scott snapped, glaring at Stiles. "We're alive. Let's find the passageway that Cora told us about."

"Cora?! Cora is freaking werewolf Scott! What if she's leading us to our deaths? What if this is a trap!" Stiles shrieked.

"She was helping us! C'mon! Maybe we can get the headmaster and help the Hales." Scott urged. They ran through the battered house until they came to a hall with a staircase leading up. All around them was a strong, metallic smell. Stiles felt his heart hammering against his ribcage as he glanced around wildly and staggered. He caught himself at the wall and his hand caught something sticky. He jerked violently knocking Scott. They both turned around and saw the wall littered with old and new blood. "Oh Great Salazar," Stiles gasped. "This is a torture chamber. Cora led us to a torture chamber. Scott! I'm not ready to be the Hale's personal chew toy!"

"Stiles, come on!" Scott shouted. "Look I see the passageway!"

Scott pulled Stiles away again toward the base of the stairs and down a tunnel; so long both of them thought it would never end. Midway through the tunnel, though both of them heard a long howl. They froze and turned behind themselves. They could see nothing even with their illuminated wands but they could hear heavy footsteps hitting against the ground.

"Shit! Run!" Scott shoved Stiles forward. Stiles did not need to be told twice. They took off sprinting but the howling and footsteps got louder and louder. Scott and Stiles thought they would be safe when they saw the moonlight filtering in from the end of the tunnel. Stiles jumped out first and then leaned forward to pull Scott. A swishing noise that neither were aware of before made them freeze.

"Is that the Whomping Willow?" Stiles asked.

"Yup." Scott said looking at the tree. Both of them backed up as slowly as possible, but both him and Stiles tripped at the base of the tree. Scott seemed to press against something squishy though and then the tree froze in place. Stiles and Scott panted in relief. Nevertheless, fate was never that kind and once more the two boys heard the howl again. Without warning, a large black figure shot out and bounded toward them, knocking Scott to the ground.

"Scott!" Stiles screeched, running toward his best friend.

A werewolf unlike the others met the boys. The werewolf towered over them by nearly three or four feet. It had the head of a wolf, but the body of a human that was covered all in fur and seem to ripple with power. The humanoid werewolf growled low in its throat and with a large swipe of his paw pushed Stiles away. Stiles groaned as his head knocked against the Whomping Willow and as he struggled to see clearly, the werewolf pushed Scott against the ground and latched his teeth against his flank. Scott released a blood-curdling scream as he felt the teeth pierce through flesh. Stiles regained consciousness then and grabbed for his wand. He didn’t know what spell to throw at the werewolf. It was then that he hated himself for not knowing DADA very well.

But Stiles didn’t have to wait long. The werewolf unlatched his jaw from Scott’s side, where crimson blood began to stain his friend’s clothes. The werewolf however over Scott as if he were prey.

"G-g-get away!" Stiles stuttered, getting to his feet.

The werewolf snarled. Scott groaned in absolute pain and rolled onto his side. The werewolf began to approach Stiles. Stiles panicked and his usual clumsy movements caused him to trip backwards. Stiles could not believe this was happening. He turned to Scott who was blacking out. What if Scott died? Or worse became a werewolf? Stiles hyperventilated as the werewolf towered over him. He could feel his skin prickling with heat. It looked menacing. He could see blood cacking his teeth and sticking his dark tufts of fur together at his jaw.

And if things could not get worse, the werewolf paused a foot away from Stiles and sniffed the air. He tilted his head as if he was confused, but the lapse only lasted a second. He launched his way at Stiles and all Stiles could do was scream.

It was then he felt his magic bubbling all around him. Several balls of smoking red light erupted around his body and sent the werewolf flying through the air toward the Forbidden Forest. Stiles gulped and tried to keep his breathing in check as the werewolf did not return. After a moment, his head cleared enough to go to Scott where he saw his friend barely holding on to life. "Scott! Scott!" Stiles yelled, his voice cracking with desperation.

Scott was not responding.

Stiles turned him over and saw the blood drenched in his clothes. Stiles retched in his mouth a bit. "Ok that's a lot of blood. _That is a lot of..._ "

Stiles barely registered colliding with the floor.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Derek could hardly breathe properly. He could feel that one of his ribs had punctured his lungs, his left leg broken in two places, and his right kneecap completely shattered. Cora looked worse. Kali had left her skin with dozens of gashes that Derek could hardly recognize his own sister as blood flooded her skin. He whimpered on the ground as he tried to reach for her, but she was too far away. Ennis and Kali had left them completely vulnerable. And now they would be taken hostage. The only source of relief was that Deucalion did not seem to be returning.

"Ennis. Kali. Stop."

Derek craned his neck at the voice. Through his blurry vision, he could see Deaton and Morrell. Derek sighed in relief. They could help.

Both werewolves growled at the adults but both of them seemed unfazed. Instead, Deaton and Morrell pulled out their wands and pointed it at Kali who was crouching over Cora. "Step away from the students." Deaton said in an even tone.

Kali hissed. She stepped toward Deaton and Morrell but both of them were quick. They cast a fire spell and Kali backtracked in fear. She tried to come at a different angle, but Morrell pulled a bag out of her satchel that Derek could smell from his place on the floor, that was filled with wolfsbane. Kali hissed and then reverted back to human, Ennis did as well. "Leave," Morrell spoke. Her voice was utterly calm, but the threat was there.

Ennis and Kali let out a canine whine but ran off into the Forbidden Forest most likely to go find Deucalion. Deaton and Morrell rushed to the Hales. Morrell cradled Cora while Deaton went to Derek.

"I'm sorry Ms. Hale but healing spells don't work on werewolves," Morrell said with remorse. Cora whined and turned her head to the side, trying not to sob.

Deaton said nothing to Derek and Derek was beginning to wonder why but then he felt Deaton at his leg. Derek let out a howl that sounded more like whine as his left leg was cracked into place. He could already feel the bone stitching back together, painfully. Deaton lifted Derek slowly, and Derek protested. "No, the two boys...." He mumbled.

"What?" Deaton asked. "Someone saw you?"

"Scott and Stiles," Cora panted. "They went through the Shrieking Shack."

"We'll go after them after we take you back to the castle," Deaton informed, reaching to lift Derek again.

"No..." Derek groaned. "There was a fourth werewolf. It went after them."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, Scott finally got bit! Tell me what you thought of the chapter. I really love comments. 
> 
> And...I am really sorry to inform, but I will not be uploading the next chapter until the end of May or beginning of June. I have finals and a bunch of projects I need to focus on so this story is going need to be placed on the back burner.


	8. An Ungrounding Anchor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott and Stiles try to deal with Scott's new lycanthropy, while the Hales try not to breathe.

Stiles awoke with the second hugest headache of his life, the first being when he was six and believed he was old enough where he could fly unsupervised, but this headache was slowly pushing to first as consciousness flooded his head. He groaned as unwelcomed light hit his retinas. He shut his eyes quickly and rolled over on the bed. He felt as if someone had cast a confundus on him and he hoped that was not the case, because the last confundus someone had cast on him landed him in the Hospital Wing for half a day. He groaned again, trying to bury in the covers. The covers felt scratchy against his chin which was weird, because the ones in the Slytherin dorm were made of fine silk as not offend the high-maintenance (cough cough Jackson) Slytherin purebloods. After rubbing against the covers once more, he deduced he wasn’t in his bed. He sat up slowly taking everything in.

"Good you're awake.” Stiles jerked back with a yelp as he was face to face with Headmaster Deaton.

"Drink this."

Deaton shoved a potion under Stiles' nose. What the hell was he doing in the Headmaster’s room? What had happened again?

"Drink it. It's Pick-Me-Up Potion."

Stiles too groggy to argue, lifted the potion vial to his lips. The obnoxious medicinal sweet taste, flared his nostrils. One would think for a Pick-Me-Up potion, it would taste better, but all it did was leave a dry taste in his mouth. He finished the potion though because it did give him some clarity and removed the ache in his body. He handed the vial back to Deaton and rubbed the side of his head. There was a large sensitive bump on the side and he wondered how hard he had fallen on the Whomping Willow's roots to get such a large bruise. He paused. The Whomping Willow. The werewolf.

"Oh fucking Mordred and Morgana. Where's Scott?” Stiles directed his attention on Deaton fully.

"He's fine. He's sleeping right there."

Stiles followed Deaton's gaze and saw Scott sleeping on a cot on the opposite wall from him. "Oh no... The werewolf...it...it"

"I know what happened Mr. Stilinski. Well, generally from the wound Scott had on his left side, but I'm going to wake Scott up now and both of you are going to try to calmly explain everything that happened last night. Understood?"

"Calmly! What part of this requires calm action! The part where a freaking werewolf that was the size of a freaking troll came up to us and nearly attacked us?! Oh and let's not forget the other three werewolves oh and the freaking Hales!"

"Mr. Stilinski! Calm down; don't make me knock you out. I really do need you both to be calm."

Stiles did not want to comply. How could he be calm? He was about to voice his opinion but Deaton gave him a warning look. Stiles sagged his shoulders and pulled his knees to his chest, nodding.

Deaton watched Stiles carefully for a moment before he waved his wand over Scott. He murmured a spell and Scott slowly woke up.

"Mr. McCall?"

Scott groaned for a few moments but then shot up like a bow. "STILES! Where's Stiles?"

"I'm right here Scott." Stiles said, lifting his hand.

"Are you ok?"

"I think so."

"Mr. McCall." Deaton interrupted. "I need you and Mr. Stilinski to tell us everything ok."

Scott looked at Deaton. “Where am I?”

“In my living quarters. You’re safe. I need you and Mr. Stilinski to tell me everything.”

Scott gave the room a once over. "Uh from the beginning?"

"That would be ideal." He said with a soft smile.

Scott rubbed the side of his head, giving him a nasty case of bed-hair. Stiles noticed that Deaton did not give Scott any potion and thus they were forced to wait a few moments for Scott to fully wake. "Well uh Stiles got us kicked out of Three Broomsticks so we didn't have anywhere else to go so we decided to go to the Shrieking Shack but we saw Cora and Derek Hale there with three other werewolves. We couldn't hear them properly but they seemed to be arguing and then they attacked us. Cora told us to go to the Shrieking Shack and go to the castle and then--"

"Then what Mr. McCall?"

"Another werewolf came. This one fully shifted and it...it bit me. Am I werewolf now? I know that a bite either turns you or kills you and I know I'm not dead." His voice was quickly lacing itself with panic.

Stiles turned to Deaton expecting him to cry out 'surprise' or somehow convince him that the staff decided to prank them after last week's fiasco in causing all the professors to wear hula skirts and coconut bras over their robes. "Yes."

"What?!" Scott cried. "I can't be a werewolf! What about my mom she's going to kill me?!"

"That's if the ministry doesn't kill you first." Stiles muttered under his breath. He realized too late that was not the best thing to say at the moment.

"Mr. Stilinski, please. Although, Mr. McCall I would advise not to tell your mother on this matter or anyone."

"What how can I not tell her? She's going to figure it out. I’m a fucking werewolf! I can't be a werewolf!" Scott panicked. And then Stiles saw it happen, if he didn't believe it then he sure did now. Scott clutched his head in between his hands and Stiles saw the claws extending from his fingertips and fangs slip just out of his lips. His eyes turned a bright yellow and his ears turned to points at the end. Stiles felt his heart stop. He slowly crawled up the bed until his back hit the wall.

"Mr. McCall you need to calm down."

"I'm not a werewolf. I can't be! I rather die!"

"Mr. McCall."

Stiles heard the most awful cry from Scott's lips that sounded more animal that human. His heart palpitated quickly and his breath came in short pants. Stiles for the first time was terrified of his friend. His breath hitched at the sight and every little remark his parents told him about werewolves flooded Stiles’ head. He heard Deaton trying to calm Scott down but nothing was working. Scott was becoming more aggravated by the second and his werewolf form was protruding further along his features.

No.

" _ **Scott**_..."Stiles whispered. His voice couldn't go any higher. He was scared of going any louder, but he didn’t want this monstrosity taking over his friend. And then Scott sucked in a large breath and his animal like gaze focused on Stiles. Stiles could not move; he wondered if this was how Basilisk victims felt when they looked it in the eye. Scott though did not seem to be making any sudden movements. So Stiles whispered his name again. “ _ **Scott**_?”

Scott let out air through his nostrils and then took a deep breath. “What just happened?” Scott questioned in fright, looking to Deaton with panic.

“You lost control; it’s normal with recent bitten werewolves.”

“Normal!” Scott shouted. “Nothing about this is normal!”

“That is true Mr. McCall but I would like you to focus on Mr. Stilinski here.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.” Scott turned to his best friend and Stiles felt guilty for flinching. He couldn’t help it. His freaking best friend was a dark creature! How was a sane person supposed to react in the first place? “How do you feel?”

“Calm?” Scott said with confusion. “No…controlled.”

“I’ve never seen a werewolf take to an anchor so quickly.” Deaton said astonished.

“A what?” Stiles and Scott said in tandem.

“Both of you really do need to listen. I’m going to tell you a few things really quickly because my sister is going to have to deal with two confused and most likely hostile Hale werewolves. The Knock-Me-Out Potion only lasts so long on werewolves.” Deaton informed. Both Scott and Stiles nodded apprehensively. “Good. Now Scott what I said about your mother, it is best you really do not tell her about this situation, at least not yet. It would be best for you to grasp full control of your werewolf abilities before you tell your mother. It would set up a better argument that you are fine before she decides to set up an impossible medical research facility in curing you. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Scott nodded quickly, listening intently.

“Well, it seems that last night a werewolf did bite you and your wound has entirely healed. That is one of the few things you will notice as a werewolf. There is also heightened smell, hearing, some can get taste, faster reflexes, strength.”

“Yes, we studied this our third year,” Stiles rushed. “Get on with stuff that is more important.”

“There are two types of werewolves out there. There are bitten ones like you Mr. McCall and there are naturally born werewolves like the Hales who can be traced as werewolves as far eight hundred years ago.”

“Eight hundred years ago?” Stiles blurted. “How has no one figured this out about them? You would think someone would have noticed dozens of rabid dogs frolicking across Britain!”

“The Hales until recently have been a very influential family and have always been good at keeping control of their werewolf nature even during a full moon. No one was the wiser.”

“Then how do you know about them?” Scott asked.

Deaton bobbed his head a few times, looking for the right words. “You can say my family and I have been a sort of guide—an emissary is the actual name for it, to the Hale family as long as they have been werewolves. My sister and I are emissaries to currently Derek and Cora. We help the Hale family with things they can’t do such as helping them find their anchors.”

“Which is what I am?” Stiles questioned.

“Yes, to Mr.McCall. An anchor is a feeling—a concept—something inside you that reminds the werewolf of being human. It grounds them.”

Scott stole a glance at Stiles.

“Mr. Stilinski is your anchor most likely that you two are such close friends.”

“So as long as I stay close to Stiles I won’t lose control?” Scott asked.

Deaton shook his head. “All it requires is to think of him.” Scott and Stiles wanted to ask more questions but then a small wizard alarm clock rung beside Stiles. The students jumped in surprise. “The Hales should be waking soon. I have to go, you boys can show yourselves out. The door leads to my office and at the end the door leads down to the phoenix. We will talk tomorrow when classes resume tomorrow.”

“What you can’t just leave us. We still have more questions!” Stiles shouted.

“I will answer them on Monday, Mr. Stilinksi. Although I do have time for one more question, but this is for you. When the werewolf bit Mr. McCall, why didn’t it bite you as well?”

Stiles reeled back. “It was going to but it stopped for a second and then I freaked out and had a magical outburst. It sent the werewolf into the Forbidden Forest. And that’s all I can remember.”

“You actually shot him far enough that he was no longer within the Hogwarts wards. Do you feel anything at the moment?”

“Light-headed and my skin feels prickly and warm but I heard that was normal with an outburst like that.”

Deaton was quiet for a long moment. “It is. Well Mr. McCall I expect to see you in my office tomorrow.”

Scott nodded and they both watched Deaton leave his own room. The room grew incredibly quiet. The golden drapes covered most of the early morning light, casting a dim glow in the room. A breeze rolled by through an open window and both students watched as Deaton’s plant collection danced. When the breeze died down, everything in the room was deathly still.

Stiles had been staring at his sock covered feet the entire time and when he looked away he saw Scott looking at the opposite wall with a blank look. Stiles attempted to find Scott’s eyes, but the Gryffindor wasn’t budging. “Dude,” Stiles whispered.

Scott sagged against the wall and looked despondently at his best friend. His eyes were watery and shaking as he spoke, “You hate me now. Don’t you?”

The Slytherin took longer to reply more than he would have liked. “What are you talking about?”

“Stiles. I’ve heard how you talk about werewolves and you despise them more than Jackson. And you hate Jackson more than anything.”

Stiles didn’t say anything for a long moment.

“Scott, buddy.” Stiles ran his hand along his buzz cut. He bit his lip trying to find the words. His friend was a werewolf. It couldn’t be possible, but here it was. He half expected Scott to go into a frenzy and attack, but Scott’s downtrodden gaze had Stiles feeling pity. After all, he could have gotten bitten too. “Look I can promise you it’s going to take a shit load of time for me to get used to this whole thing and I bet it’s going to be a lot harder for you. The least I can do—no matter how weird and fucking scary this is and I’m still slightly apprehensive that you’re going to claw at my innards and wear them as a scarf—but the point is,” He sucked in a breath, “You are my best friend. We’ll get through this. Together.” Stiles finished, licking his lips.

Scott released a huge puff of air. “You mean it?”

Stiles nodded. He was scared of what he was getting himself into but it was Scott. Go-lucky, happy, joy filling Scott. Stiles wasn’t going to let the werewolf side of his friend ruin their long friendship.

The Gryffindor smiled and rested his head on his knees. Stiles actually felt relieved at Scott’s smile. It was still there. It was still his friend. This was going to be ok. As long as it was still Scott. Stiles stood to his feet. “Ok so since Deaton is being a complete dickwad at the moment and I can probably safely guess that you are freaking out cause I’m sure as hell am freaking out, let’s go to my room.”

“Is that safe?”

“Deaton said I’m your anchor. So it has to be ok. And don’t you remember? Before the term started, I thought it would be funny to grab that book on Dark Creatures back in Diagon Alley. I haven’t had a reason to open it yet until now. Let’s go take a look and see if we can figure out this werewolf business on our own.

Stiles and Scott walked to the dungeons and realized that it was still very quiet in the castle. It was not until Stiles cast a time charm, that he realized it was only nine o’clock, which meant that everyone was eating breakfast in the Great Hall. It was good for them because they were not entirely sure if they would be able to deal with other students at the moment. They still felt wary of last night’s events.

They went to Stiles room and found it to be empty. Scott went immediately to Stiles’ bed, which he recognized from previous times of hanging out in the Slytherin dorms. He jumped onto the bed and clutched Stiles’ comfy pillows as the other boy looked through his trunk for the book.

“Found it! Ha! Now scoot over.” Stiles said, jumping into the bed with a lack of finesse. Stiles cracked open the book and was happy that nearly half of the book was dedicated to werewolves. He pulled out his wand and cast a highlight charm as he began reading in silence.

This was something familiar for the pair and it served to give Scott and Stiles a piece of mind. It was normal for them to do this. Stiles would usually research things in silence for a few hours as he looked for a new prank and Scott would doze off, which was what Scott was doing right now. Though Scott only got about twenty minutes of a nap in when Stiles spoke up.

“Ok so from reading this, I am going to conclude you are a bad werewolf,” Stiles said, his eyes scrunching as he read the text.

“Why do you say that?”

“Do you have the urge to seek out the nearest warm body and use your false human mask to befriend them and rip their throats out while you eat and bathe in their warm flesh?” Stiles asked.

“Uh no…I am kind of hungry though but I’m actually craving a muffin right now.”

Stiles snorted. “Do you have the urge to display your inhuman strength to the nearest individual to show who is superior?” Stiles continued.

“No…that’s more along your alley but replace strength with magic.”

“Hey!” Stiles chuckled and slapped his friend on the chest. “Do you wish to find a large group of humans to turn all of them against your will just so you can mate with them whenever you please?”

“What the hell?” Scott scoffed. “NO!”

“There, you see,” Stiles said, looking pleased. “Not a proper werewolf at all. I always forget that werewolf prejudice spawned from the purebloods. These books are written by bigoted a-holes who never had a nice cup of tea with a werewolf. Everything in here is fake! At least I think it is, I’m basing it on what little Deaton said. We are going to have to wait for him tomorrow I guess.”

“And?”

“And, what?”

“And, what do you think about werewolves now?”

Stiles leaned against the metal headboard. “Scott, I uh, well I don’t know. It was my mom more than my dad telling me to be wary of werewolves. She said they were evil and only wanted to kill people for amusement and well I believed her she was my mom and she used to work in the Beast Division in the Ministry so that was all the proof I needed. And then my dad worked on the Deucalion case when he first became an Auror with like six or seven other Aurors, before I was even born so I guess that made him kind of agree with her. But I don’t know why she had that hate for them, she isn’t pureblood so it’s not a blood purity thing. I don’t know what it is. I just don’t want to say she was wrong, but you're acting nothing like she said werewolves act. I mean you're cuddling with my pillows and craving muffins for Merlin’s sake! So I guess...maybe she is wrong on this. Werewolves aren’t that bad. Obviously they are still dangerous, but its not like you asked for this. You still have your humanity in you. I can tell.”

“Did your mom work a werewolf case? Is that why she didn’t like them?”

“She helped my dad with the Deucalion case when he was first placed in Azkaban, but both of them weren’t directly involved with the case. She was just there to find any werewolf artifacts and curses at the scene of the crime.”

“That’s weird then.”

“It is. I guess she could have had pureblood friends and they made me her think that way, I don’t know.”

“Well I’m glad you don’t agree with her. Cause I don’t know what I would do now if I didn’t have you for support.”

“I’ll always have your back, Scott. No matter what.”

Scott smiled and draped himself over his friend. Stiles hugged him in the tangle of limbs.

It was then the door to the room opened and in came both Jackson and Danny. Jackson paused as he looked at Stiles. “Where were you last night?” He accused.

Stiles leaned back on the bed and put an arm around Scott. “Oh you know, just making out in every crevice and corner of Hogwarts Castle. I’ll have you know if you’re ever with anyone the corner between the portrait of the wizard singing to a pig and the portrait of a wizard who keeps obliviating himself on the third floor is perfect! It’s practically soundproof!”

“Eww Stilinski!” Jackson shouted, and threw his pillow at Stiles. Stiles was about to catch it but Scott’s caught the pillow much too quickly for it to be considered normal. Both of them looked warily at each other and Scott slowly put the pillow down, making sure the others didn’t see that. Apparently, they didn’t because they were both grabbing all their Quidditch gear. “If you want to spout your disgusting habits involving your tanker talk to Danny not me.”

“Jackson,” Danny reprimanded as he found his Keeper shoulder pads. “I’m a flaming pouf not demented. I don’t want to know anything about Stilinski’s tanker.” Stiles smiled at Danny as he sent him a disgusted glare. It was last year that Danny had come out as gay and while that usually would have sprouted a dozen rumors with a few mean jabs, Danny only received congratulations and that was most likely because Jackson threatened to bat bogey hex anyone who said anything bad about Danny. Not that anyone really would. People liked Danny.

“Ahh Danny that wounds me,” Stiles placed a dramatic hand over his chest. “Am I not attractive to gay guys?”

The room went dead silent. Stiles jerked back and elbowed Scott in the ribs as he sat up quickly. “Danny, am I not attractive to gay guys?”

Danny did not respond with anything, instead, he turned to Stiles with the most serious face possible. “Did you forget there was Quidditch practice today?”

“Oh shit!” Stiles shouted, scrambling off the bed. He ducked down quickly and looked for his broom, he knew—well half knew, he was not entirely sure where he had put it last.

“It’s in the bathroom,” Danny answered, as if he knew what Stiles was looking for.

“Why is your broom in the bathroom?” Scott asked when Stiles came running back into the room.

“You don’t want to know,” Danny answered.

“I can’t believe you became a chaser,” Jackson said in monotone, as he watched Stiles grabbing all his things.

“Shut up Jackson! I’m just as good as you.” Stiles barked.

“If thats what makes you sleep at night…” Jackson trailed with a sarcastic grin. Once Stiles had gathered his stuff, they began heading to the door.

“C’mon Scott, let’s get going,” Stiles urged. Scott jumped off the bed and trailed after the Slytherins.

Jackson made a face as they walked into the Slytherin common room. “McCall can’t come. He’s the enemy.”

“What?!” Stiles whined. “It’s Scott. Good-natured Scott. He isn’t going to spy on us. He’s too much of a Gryffindork to spy on us Slytherinkins.”

“I don’t care if he’s a goody-two shoed Huffleprick. He can’t come,” Jackson warned.

“Yeah he can,” Stiles fought back.

“Our captain will hex him the minute he sees him in the stands,” Danny informed, already wanting to leave.

Stiles sighed. “Ok fair point…I’m sorry Scott but you have to go.”

“What?! Where do I go?” Scott shouted when they left the portrait hole and began walking down the dungeon hallway.

“Uh Gryffindor tower, idiot,” Jackson stated.

Stiles’ eyes opened wide as he heard Scott slightly growl under his breath. Laughing obnoxiously to cover the animal noise, he clasped his friend’s shoulder where Scott instantly calmed down. “It’s been a while since we woke up. Maybe Cora is back. Go talk to her maybe she can explain shit to you.”

Scott nodded looking frazzled. “What if I—you know?” Scott whispered in Stiles’ ear as they exited the dungeons.

“Just think of me,” Stiles said cheerfully.

“Oh Merlin, can you two seriously be any gayer,” Danny groaned. “C’mon we’re already late.”

“Go on ahead,” Stiles shouted as Jackson and Danny already left them behind. When they were out of earshot he turned to Scott who still had a panicked look. “But Scott seriously if you get the urge to maim or rip someone’s throat out, just calm down and think of me. Deaton said I’m your anchor remember.”

“Yeah.” Scott nodded after a moment. “Ok so have fun at Quidditch practice.”

Stiles laughed. “Hardly, my captain hates me!”

 

|~~***~~|

 

Scott was wary of touching anything or meeting anyone’s gaze as he walked to the Gryffindor common room. He was generally scared of breaking something or someone would take one look at him and know what he was. He felt sort of bad when he saw his friends in the common room, and he fully ignored them. Instead, he marched to the girl’s side of the dorms and knocked on the door. It only took a second for Heather Merlott, the bouncy blonde to come down and look at him with a strange gaze.

“Hey is Cora here?” Scott asked.

Heather shook her head. “Nope, she wasn’t here last night either.”

“Oh,” Scott said scrunching his brows. He wondered if she still was with Deaton. He gave the girl his thanks and headed up to his dorm. The other guys didn’t follow him and he felt a bit grateful. He flopped onto his bed and wondered how he was going to get through this.

He was a werewolf now.

A goddamn werewolf.

He had learned about them third year, but from what he had learned, much of it was wrong if his body told him anything. But this entire situation felt wrong as well. He felt dark and dirty and his mind felt full. He didn’t know how else to describe it. He felt another presence inside him, pushing against his skull and mixing with his own thoughts. The presence was insisting.

He had felt it a lot more with Stiles than being alone.

When both Stiles and Scott were lying on the bed, Scott heard a voice in his head that did not belong to him at all; it sounded primal and animalistic. The voice had said only a few words though. _Scent Bad. Pack. Home. Friend._

And those words were only with Stiles. He had heard only two of them with Deaton. _Stranger. Help._

He didn’t know what the presence was but he had a strong feeling it was the werewolf side of him. He was kind of pleased though that none of the words were hostile. The words the werewolf said were words he associated already with Stiles and his Headmaster. However, the scent thing was something he needed to talk to Deaton about as soon as possible.

Scott sighed and pressed his face next to his pillow. He got a giant whiff of his scent and all he could associate it with was him. _Home. Territory. Mark._

He had smelled Stiles inconspicuously in the Slytherin dorms. He never noticed how his friend smelled before. He smelled strange, and it kind of wasn’t a good strange. He smelled ripe...as if he hadn’t showered in days. But he also smelled, something bubbly. If bubbly had a scent.

He suddenly wanted to discover all of these new things. New scents, new sounds.

He only hoped he would be able to handle it.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Classes resumed the next day and Scott was not looking forward to having Potions for his first class. When he had woken up he was immediately bombarded with a flurry of smells and noises that he had already had a headache when he walked into the dungeon. There were just too many scents and too many noises and living in a castle with a multitude of teenagers was a pain. He could smell their hormones which mostly consisted of lust and ew, he did not want to smell that so early in the morning. Anger, frustration, happiness, stress, and giddiness all flooded his nose.

He settled into his usual seat in the potions class next to Ethan. Ethan gave him a curious look as they sat down. He had been staring at him with confusion since they woke up and Scott was hoping that he could last more than two days without people discovering his lycanthropy. He gave his sincerest smile at Ethan and looked to Professor Harris.

“Today we will be working on a wit-sharpening potion, hopefully some of you will be able to use it as their seems to be a lack of it in the classroom. You will be tasting the potion yourself when you are done, if it works you will feel your mind clear for about three hours, if it doesn’t, you will find it hard to concentrate for five. So I suggest you do it correctly, less you make your other professors angry. Instructions are on the board. You may begin.”

Scott watched Ethan grab the ginger root and begin cutting the root into its proper pieces. Scott stayed back and watched. He learned that it was best not to touch anything less he blew up the room…again. He only wished he had potions with Stiles this year, between the two of them they could get a decent enough grade to pass, with Ethan, he wasn’t quite sure.

He saw him put the ginger root in the cauldron until the mixture turned a lime green and shortly after, he applied armadillo bile that made it turn blue.

“Hey Scott can you ground the scarab beetles,” Ethan said handing him the jar of the insects.

“Are you sure? Have you seen me in potions?” Scott asked, looking at the closed jar.

“It’s just grounding bugs.” Ethan chuckled. “You can’t screw this up.”

Scott nodded and opened the jar, emptying the beetles in front of him. He could smell the rancid smell of death come from the insects, but as he watched the other students they all seemed to ok with. He ignored the smell and began to ground them. Immediately, he felt Professor Harris behind him.

“Mr. McCall do you know how to read?”

“Uh…yes…”

“Apparently you don’t. The instructions call for removing the shell of the beetle and then grounding the innards. Mixing in the beetle’s shell is ill advised.”

Scott tried to fix his mistake but then Harris scoffed behind him. “You never cease to amaze me Mr. McCall. An eleven year old can brew potions better than you.”

“I’m trying!” Scott raised his voice. He felt his blood boiling and he could already hear the other presence in his head banging against his head. Threat. Attack. Scott ground his teeth together and breathed deeply. His hands shook as he tried to remove the beetle shell with a small knife.

“They look fine to me,” Ethan stated and grabbing what Scott had ground. He dumped them into the cauldron until it turned red, which was the correct color.

Harris rolled his eyes and went to another table to torment them. “Don’t listen to him, Scott. Harris is a douche who eats dungs for breakfast. Cut more ginger root you’re fine.” Ethan assured while he mixed the potion, turning it redder.

Scott nodded and cut the ginger roots quickly to avoid Harris criticizing his cutting methods. He dumped the ginger root again and the potion went back to lime green. The two continued adding more until they got to the part where they let it simmer for ten minutes. The potion was simmering purple and Scott sighed. This was the most he had helped in a potion and it was actually turning right. Maybe working with Ethan was the key to success. However, when it was time to add the ginger root again, the potion had turned bubbling grey.

“What did I tell you Mr. McCall about reading instructions?” Harris asked, looking into the cauldron.

“But the potion was fine a minute ago!” Scott said. Both he and Ethan looked at the potion with crestfallen faces. It was already too late to start all over.

“I had told you and you did not listen. Ten points off Gryffindor.” He said condescendingly.

“What?! That’s not fair!” Scott shouted. “We just made a mistake. You can’t take points off for that!”

“You didn’t listen now you will deal with the consequence. Personally I’m going to enjoy seeing you scatterbrained on Stilinski’s level. That boy really needs to be on calming potions. I don’t know how you stand him.”

Scott could feel the banging in his head get louder. _Threatening Pack. Attack. Threat. Attack. Kill._ Scott had not realized he was bent over his stool until Ethan touched his shoulder. Scott could feel his claws bunching in his robes and he could feel his teeth elongating. He tried to think of Stiles but it was not working. No matter how much he focused on the boy or tried to remember his scent it was not calming the wolf down. This was turning ugly quick.

Scott panicked. He grabbed his bag and went running out of the dungeons. He could hear Harris shouting at him to come back and when he didn’t, he heard he had a detention. But Scott didn’t care. He needed to get away before he seriously attacked someone. He ran to the nearest bathroom and slammed the door casting a locking charm without even thinking. He ran to the sink and began splattering water on his face. He let the water drip down to his neck and he looked up into the mirror. For the first time he saw his werewolf form. His hair was overgrown on his eyebrows, his face was a different shape, and his ears pointy. He looked feral especially with his golden eyes. Watching his reflection though, did nothing to calm him. In fact, it made it worse. He slammed his hand into the mirror and watched it shatter to pieces, however a charm seemed to be on it because the shards flew back into place. Scott growled at it and instead sunk to the floor. He banged his head against the sink and breathed deeply, still trying to think of Stiles but it wasn’t working. He could still hear the wolf. _Threat. Attack. Kill._

He blocked it out as much as possible and it took about an hour until he felt normal again. He grabbed his bag and went to Herbology where he would be able to see Stiles and Morrell.

When they got to the greenhouse, Morrell was not there. There was a sub and according to Stiles, Deaton was nowhere to be found. Even more so, Scott noticed that Cora was not there either.

“Do you think the Hales ate them?” Stiles asked in all seriousness as they took notes for class. It was lecture day instead of herbology lab.

“Stiles!” Scott shouted in a whisper.

“What? I’m being serious. Maybe the Hales attacked Deaton and Morrell and that’s why they aren’t here.”

“Maybe the Hales are hurt,” Scott said. “We saw their injuries.”

“Scott they’re werewolves. They heal.”

“But what if they are!”

“Why do you even care? The Hales have the worst personalities.” Stiles stated.

“They aren’t all that bad. They helped us escape.”

“And look how that turned out.”

“And remember that time Cora defended you our first year when Jackson was being a douche.”

“Please, she didn’t defend me,” Stiles countered. “She was being a show off and wanted to screw with Jackson. And did you forget the time she attacked you at the beginning of the year?”

“She didn’t really hurt me…” Scott defended. “And I’m sure there was a reason.”

“Well if she didn’t hurt you, Derek Hale will! Did you know last year he attacked me in the library. I thought he was having a magical outburst but now that I think about it, he ripped my books with his claws! Did you hear that Scott. Claaaaws. ”

“I think we should still talk to them. They can probably help me with this whole business. I lost control in potions earlier today and thinking of you didn’t work.”

“What?!” Stiles hissed. “What do you mean you lost control?”

“No one else saw. I got out before anyone could notice. But maybe there is a special way I’m supposed to focus on you so you can ground me.”

“I don’t like this.”

“What other choice do we have?”

 

|~~***~~|

 

Scott wasn’t happy that he couldn’t see the Hales or Deaton. He had visited them last week, but apparently, they were under medical care and could not be talked to at all. Although, according to Heather and Danielle, Cora was released last night. He had yet to see her and he doubted he would since it was the weekend. He had tried to visit Deaton and even Morrell during the week but they were too busy and couldn’t speak with him. And all of it, did nothing to calm Scott down. He could feel the wolf getting antsy. He even tried biting Stiles early today when Stiles kept badgering him to show his werewolf form. Although, and thankfully no one was in the courtyard that early in the morning to see it, and once Stiles said his name, Scott calmed down.

Scott only hoped that a little bit of Quidditch practice would ease the stress. He was fully dressed in his Quidditch gear,when he came out of the locker room and headed to the stadium with his other teammates. He saw Cora there. He had nearly forgotten she had made the Quidditch team as a seeker. He felt dumb almost forgetting. The girl had put on an amazing show in catching the snitch during tryouts, but it made Scott wonder if her wolf abilities made her agile and quick. He caught her eye and tried to approach her but the minute he stepped forward her nostrils flared and her eyes grew wide.

“What the hell, Scott?” Cora asked in a hushed tone as the captain began addressing them all.

“What?”

“Why do you smell like a certain thing?” She hissed.

“That’s what I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.” Scott informed. “I need help.”

“Well I can’t really help you; I’m a Beta.”

“A what?” Scott questioned.

“A Beta.”

“I’m going to pretend I know what that means, but you have to help me. I don’t want to be like this.”

“This? And by this you refer to?”

“This _monster thing_.”

Cora rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe this gift was given to a kid like you.”

“ _Gift?!_ You mean curse!” Scott shouted catching everyone’s attention. The captain glared at Scott, when the team got silent again, the captain resumed speaking, going over tactics. When Scott looked to Cora, she seemed completely appalled and offended.

“Scott McCall!”

Everyone grew quiet again and turned to the first year who was running toward them. He approached and he was panting. “Uh the Headmaster said he would like to speak with Scott McCall.”

“What?” The captain shouted. “We have Quidditch practice.”

“He said it was of dire importance.”

The captain glared at the eleven year old but after a moment nodded. “Yeah fine. Go McCall. I expect to see you at next practice. Got it? I don’t want any ditching practice on my team.”

Scott nodded and told the kid he would go after he went to go change. The eleven year old said ok and left.

When Scott finished dressing, he went to Deaton’s office and noticed that Stiles was already there.

“Hey.” Scott said awkwardly.

“Sit down Scott.” Deaton ordered.

Scott noticed that it was the first time Deaton addressed him by his first name and he figured since he was going to be helping him, first name basis were in order.

Scott sat down on the chair next to Stiles.

“I’m sorry about ignoring you for the past week. I have been busy.”

“Busy! What was so time consuming that you were ignoring Scott who has been freaking out for a week!” Stiles shouted.

“Derek and Cora were severely injured. I was attending to their injuries along with my sister,” Deaton informed.

Scott shot a glare at Stiles. “See I told you!”

Stiles leaned over on his seat. “But how is that possible? Werewolves heal quickly. They should have been fine the next day. Scott’s bite was healed.”

“A bite is different. But what you said is true werewolves have a remarkable ability to heal quickly. However when an Alpha attacks a Beta in such a form that you saw by the Shrieking Shack, the injuries take much longer to heal.”

“Beta?” Scott scrunched his eyebrows. “That’s what Cora called herself earlier today. What is that?”

“Werewolves have ranks within their species, its not known by many wizards unless they have studied werewolves extensively. Alphas are the leaders of packs, Betas are the followers of the Alphas, and Omegas are werewolves who don’t have a pack. But it’s more than just rankings for them it’s a marker for their strength. Alphas are the strongest and you can tell a werewolf is an Alpha by the red in their eyes. Betas fall in line, they have a golden eye color as their default, and then there are Omegas who are the weakest.”

“Scott is an Omega?” Stiles asked.

“Yes.”

“So what, are we just going to ask you questions and you are going to answer them?” Scott questioned.

“I will answer them to the best of my ability.”

It was Stiles who immediately began to ask all the questions. Scott listened diligently to their conversation and when an hour had passed, they were filled with a lot more information than they had learned in DADA.

“Wait I have a question about anchors?” Scott asked.

“What about them?”

“For the past week I have been struggling to focus on Stiles if he’s not around me. Usually someone—usually Harris, says something that I don’t agree with and I lose control.”

“How many times has this happened in the past week?”

“About four times, it probably would have been five but I skipped potions yesterday cause I didn’t want to lose control. I mean is there a specific way I’m supposed to focus on Stiles or-“

“Werewolves generally just need a simple thought of their anchor to cross their mind and they can control it, relatively well. Maybe you aren’t focusing on Stiles like you think you are.” Deaton stated. “This might cause a problem during the full moon.”

“Why’s that?” Scott asked.

“Werewolves lose their minds during the full moon.” Stiles stated and looked to Deaton for confirmation.

“Correct. Only those who have a strong connection to their anchors can control themselves during the full moon. Those that can’t, kill the first person they see without hesitation.”

“Is that what I’m going to do?” Scott asked.

“Most likely. You don’t have to worry though about attacking anyone. Derek and Cora can’t control their werewolf side during the full moon either so my sister and I put them in the Shrieking Shack before the moon is at its highest point. We will do the same for you.”

“You are going to put Scott in a room with two other hostile werewolves? Isn’t that dangerous?” Stiles shouted.

“Yes.” Deaton stated with a cold smile. Both Scott and Stiles looked at him as if he was mad. “I will have that covered. Derek and Cora will attack you during a full moon merely for being there because you aren’t part of their pack. They will see you as…how do I put this nicely. They will see you as a toy. You are an Omega so it’s easy picking for them and they will try to eliminate you. I will put a ring of mountain ash around you when we place you three in the Shrieking Shack. They won’t be able to get to you and you won’t be able to get out and hurt anyone.”

“That’s reassuring.” Stiles grumbled. “Caging them like animals.”

“It’s a necessary precaution.” Deaton said.

“So when’s the full moon?”

“I would say on Halloween.” Stiles answered.

Deaton gave him a strange look. “I didn’t peg you to pay close attention in astronomy, Stiles.” Deaton said with a hint of amusement.

“Are you kidding? I hate astronomy. I only know when the full moon is because of this,” Stiles pulled at the chain at his neck and pulled it up to show Deaton the pendant. The silver sand was only halfway full.

“Where did you get that?” Deaton asked reaching out for it.

Scott watched Stiles pull back quickly. “It was my mothers.” Stiles answered, hesitantly.

“I would advise you to take care of that, Stiles.”

“No duh,” Stiles scoffed and tucked it back inside his shirt. “So what? Are we done here?”

“…For now.” Deaton said warily. “Scott if you have any problems you can talk to my sister or me anytime. It’s safe to say that you can even ask Derek and Cora to help you.”

Scott nodded and left  the room with Stiles.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Scott dreaded when the day of the full moon. All throughout the day he was easily angered, but that wasn’t the worst of it. The worst was that he felt completely drained but felt as if someone was holding a rubber band taut ready to release energy as well. It left him feeling twitchy and fatigued the entire day. He now understood why Cora looked a certain way every month.

It was around six o’clock in the evening when he showed up at Deaton’s office with Stiles. Upon entering the lavish and spaced room, he saw Derek and Cora by the small living room, Deaton had set up in his office. Cora was lounging on the couch while Derek sat on the armrest. Scott and Stiles awkwardly stepped forward, where Scott noticed that both Hale’s nostrils flared.

“How do you feel Scott?” Morrell asked, sitting on the couch opposite of Cora. She was drinking tea calmly with her feet propped up on the coffee table. Deaton passed by his sister and knocked her feet down with his knee to sit beside her.

“Tense and tired,” Scott answered honestly, standing in front of them all. Stiles appeared more awkward behind him.

“So what? We stay with them until the full moon ends and bring them back into the school or what?” Stiles questioned, with a jumpy edge to his voice.

“You won’t be going anywhere. You will head back and enjoy the Halloween Feast with the rest of your peers,” Deaton answered.

“What?! This isn’t fair. I deserve to come. I’ve been helping Scott these past few weeks.” Stiles exclaimed in outrage.

“It was not a suggestion Stiles.” Deaton ordered.

Stiles glared at their Headmaster, which Scott admired his friend had the audacity to do to such a high authority figure.

“Fine, but I’m staying here until you guys leave for the Shrieking Shack.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

Deaton nodded. “That seems reasonable. Now, please sit down, we have a few things to discuss before we go.”

Scott and Stiles walked over to the couch, sitting beside Cora.

“Now tonight is going to be extremely difficult for you, Scott. The first turn is always the worst. With bitten werewolves on the night of the full moon they are forced into their Beta form if they have not achieved perfect concentration on their anchor. And what that means is that your werewolf side will push to the front of your mind and take over. Every animalistic instinct is put up on the front and the most dominant one is the urge to kill.” Deaton explained.

“It is the primary reason we isolate you three and put mountain ash as a barrier to keep you from acting on these urges.” Morrell interrupted.

“But there are some werewolves who don’t let this urge of killing take over. The thought is still there but the human will of them is so strong they attack themselves.”

“Attack? You mean kill?” Stiles questioned.

“No. I’ve never seen it get that far. The werewolf side won’t let them. The animal instinct to survive at all costs is too strong for any human being to handle mainly because humans already have that same instinct to begin with. But the damage the werewolf does to their own body is extremely fatal and therefore we will immediately check up on you as soon as the moon sets.”   

“So how do you know which side you will take on the full moon?” Scott asked.

“We don’t know until the first transformation.”

Scott’s face fell. Great it was either kill someone or kill himself. “Which one are you two?” Scott asked the Hales.

It was Morrell who answered. “Born werewolves are different. They just lose control with an elevated sense of violence.”

“Well that seems fair.” Stiles inputted.

“It’s because we carry two different strains,” Derek answered. “Born werewolves have the wolf strain implanted in them at conception, so our blood is literally half wolf. With bitten werewolves the wolf strain lives in a mutualistic state with its host. But despite that, control on the full moon is really the only difference between the two.”

Scott sighed, looking down at his twitchy hands. “We should leave. Are you ready Scott?” Deaton question, standing.

“I guess.” Scott answered.

“Good, now Stiles if you may.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m not wanted, yada, yada.” He went up to Scott and gave him a fierce hug and slapped him on the shoulder as he pulled back. “It’s gonna be ok. Just remember to focus on me. Ok?”

“Ok.”

“Cool. Well I’ll guess...see you then.”

Scott waved Stiles off and as soon as he left the room, Derek and Cora finally let out a breath.

“How do you stand that smell? He reeks, Derek groaned.

Deaton turned to Derek with curious eyes. “What do you smell?”

“It’s hard to explain,” Derek said with disgust. He wiped his nose a bit. “It smells like goblin piss but there’s like something bubbling for way too long. What the hell is that?”

“He doesn’t smell that bad. He smells like…pack.” Scott whined.

“Pack?” Morrell questioned. “What do you mean pack?”

Deaton smiled toward Scott. “Scott is an Omega; it is normal for him to associate friends and family as his pack even though they aren’t werewolves. But it’s not that really important at the moment. Let’s head out before the moon disperses the clouds.”

The werewolves nodded and treaded out of Hogwarts. No one ran into them and Scott deduced that it was because everyone was enjoying the feast. He wished he could be there now. He hoped that Stiles saved him the pumpkin pasties when he came back.

When they reached the Whomping Willow, Morrell cast a charm that made the tree stop moving. Quickly all of them treaded down the hole and climbed inside.

It was exactly as Scott remembered it from that night. Scott was not entirely sure how long the tunnel was. He knew that when he was running for his life with Stiles, the tunnel felt endless because his mind had made it that way as he just wanted to escape.

When they made it into the Shrieking Shack, Scott looked around the room once. He had not had a chance to look at it before but now he understood why Stiles freaked out. The walls had several blood prints, some were hand marks and others were streaks. The floorboards looked old and squeaked under his weight. And then there was something in the air that smelled strange but utterly familiar. He wanted to call it pack but the wolf did not agree. He called it Maker. Alpha.

“Ok Scott off by the far wall please.” Deaton instructed.

Scott nodded and went. He then watched curiously, as Morrell pulled out a sack that was filled with grounded mountain ash. Throwing an extra bag at Deaton, the two began to work. Scott noticed very quickly there was a difference between the siblings. As Deaton laid the mountain ash, he used his wand to get it neatly across the floorboards while Morrell used her hands to draw the lines. Her hands lingered in the mountain ash savoring the feel. Her lingering on the grounded rowan tree most likely had to do with the fact that she was a Herbology Professor and enjoyed the plants.

Deaton looked up. “Scott whatever happens, just remember it’s not your fault. It’s the wolf. Understand?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok. The moon should be appearing in a few minutes. We will take our leave and come back for you three right when the moon sets.”

Scott barely heard Deaton as the wolf in his head began banging insistently on his head. Scott screamed and clutched his head, sinking to his knees. He could hear the wolf clearly now. It wasn’t muffled and all it was shouting was. _Kill. Moon. Kill._

No.

Don’t kill, he told the wolf.

Waiting for the wolf to pull back, he repeated his words.

Scott’s voice turned from a pained sob to a hoarse half-howl, the vocal change felt as if someone was skinning his throat from the inside.

_Kill. Moon. Kill._

He felt the wolf pace back and forth around his head until the moonlight finally shone down all three of them.

“NO!” Scott shouted, reeling the wolf back as much as possible.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Derek looked to Scott and watched him with rapt fascination. Unlike bitten werewolves, born werewolves did not fight as strongly during the shift. The strain born werewolves had over the symbiotic relationship bitten ones held differed in the construction of their mind. Bitten werewolves shared their minds in a confined space with the wolf that usually took years to control while born werewolves had the wolf melded with their own human mind. They were part of the wolf as much as the wolf was part of them. So when Derek watched Scott bend over on the ground and start yanking at his hair he knew it was not going to end pretty. Scott had a strong enough will to stop the werewolf from killing, but at price.

He felt the familiar tug and pull of the moon and he was positive that he had howled with his sister as they both shifted. Derek cracked his neck a few times as the bones of his face settled into his Beta form.

He looked to Cora who was taking to her breathing exercises that Morrell had taught her. Derek felt automatically guilty. Cora had perfect control of herself during the full moon up until the fire. He knew that their parents were her anchor, but after their death, her mood turned sour each time she thought of them. She was now struggling to find a new thought to hold onto.

Derek had an anchor although it was not always reliable. Anger. It was an emotion he felt at a near constant of his life. Anger for his family. Anger for the Argent family. But most of all, anger for himself. It ate away at him and it reminded him of his humanity. However, during the full moon the anger magnified and became directed at people that Derek had no business in being angry with. It set him off and made him attack at times without warning and made him more primal than usual.

As now, he felt the urge to sniff the new presence in the room. Walking to the edge of the barrier, he tried to push through. But he couldn’t get to him. Instead he paced back and forth along the mountain ash watching Scott intently.

Scott was now fully shifted and yelping like a rabid wounded dog. His claws were digging into his abdomen. Pieces of flesh tore from Scott’s skin, falling to the murky floorboards.

Derek threw himself against the barrier trying to break it and he saw his younger sister trying to do the same. Derek felt the burn of the mountain ash against the fur on his face. He pulled back shaking it off and tried again to breach the other werewolf. He did not smell like a threat but he did smell different and Derek wanted to show who was in charge before the werewolf did anything to his sister.

Derek once again threw his weight against the barrier.

He felt pathetic doing this, knowing he could not control this side of himself.

He wanted it to stop.

But again, he slammed against the barrier.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Stiles bit at his nails and shook his left leg up and down. He could not sleep last night knowing that Scott was turning on the full moon. He kept glancing at the clock he had by his bed stand and waited for it to alert him that sunrise was approaching. He wanted to be there for Scott the minute Scott woke up and he did not want to miss it.

When the clock finally alerted it him, it was a little before five o’clock. He shot out of bed, already dressed and rushed out of the room as quickly and quietly as he could. When he exited the Slytherin common room, he made sure to stay close to the shadows in case he ran into unwanted attention.

He was successfully able to exit the castle and made his way to the Whomping Willow right as Deaton and Morrell froze the tree.

“Stiles!” Morell scorned, when she saw the boy. “What are you doing here? Go back.”

“No,” Stiles grumbled, pushing past both of them. “Scott is my friend. I am not having him wake up with those two other freaks.”

“You may find them in a disturbing state. Children should not see that,” Morrell informed.

Stiles opened his mouth in protest. “Scott is dealing with disturbing things. I think I will survive with seeing them.” He didn’t wait for them and ran through the tunnel. He heard the two call after him and then their own footsteps, but Stiles did not slow down. He made it into the Shrieking Shack and rushed into the room. He paused at the doorway only hesitating for a second. It was for Scott, he told himself to rush into the room of werewolves. At the corner of the room, there was a curled ball. He ignored the Hales sleeping on the floor.

“Scott?” Stiles reached out to the dark shape. “It’s me Stiles. How are you feeling dude?”

Stiles heard a canine whimper from Scott, but he didn’t turn around. He could smell a lot of

blood, sweat, and what could only be described as dog permeated the air. Another whimper came from Scott as if he was trying to form words.

“Scott?” He repeated.

“Hurt someone?”

“You didn’t hurt anyone Scott. You were good and stayed here the entire night. I mean you are a bit bloody but I don’t think it’s anyone blood but your own cause it really is impossible to cross this line. But oh Merlin what am I saying. You’re bleeding. Why are you bleeding? Werewolves are supposed to heal. Well I read that they heal but only the strong Alpha ones heal quickly so maybe I should have waited for Deaton.”

There was an odd sound that sounded like a pained choke. Stiles jumped in shock but he realized it was a watery laugh from Scott. “You’re rambling Stiles.” Stiles laughed and went to move Scott gently.

He noticed that Deaton and Morrell both appeared in the doorway, panting. They looked at Stiles for a moment, but when they realized neither was seriously in need of help, they rushed to Derek and Cora.

Stiles shifted Scott’ form and when he could finally see Scott’s face, it took all of Stiles’ will to not cry in shock. Scott was streaked with blood. Although, no prominent cuts were on his face he could see a few red protruded lines and burn marks that were slowly healing. More so, his front robes were torn and caked in sticky red. It was impossible to even tell what color his hair was as well. It was entirely stuck together by clumps of blood.

“Ah, Scott,” Stiles pitied.

He pulled Scott into a sitting position and pulled him into a hug. It took a while for Scott to respond but when he did, he sunk his fingers deep within Stiles’ robes trying to seek any comfort he could. Stiles sighed softly and turned to the others.

Cora was still sleeping, but Derek was awake and looking at Scott cautiously as Deaton passed his wand over Derek.

Stiles glared unabashedly at Derek. He didn’t know why he did it but he wanted to blame this entire thing on Derek, even though he was not the one who bit Scott. His glare seemed to have some effect as Derek turned away and began to answer Deaton’s questions.

Stiles stared at him for a few more seconds before giving his full attention on Scott. He pulled his wand out and began casting all the cleaning charms he could remember. They wouldn’t give him the clean feeling he knew Scott wanted, but it would be enough to sneak Scott back inside and have Deaton fully check on him.

“How are you feeling?” Stiles asked, as they all began heading to the castle.

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” Scott said monotone.

Stiles nodded and placed his arm over Scott’s shoulder. “I saved you some pumpkin pasties from last night’s feast.” Stiles announced. Scott gave him a small smile and bumped his head with Stiles as they walked.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know said end of May or beginning of June but I really wanted to post this. So you better review because I'm ignoring finals for you readers, just kidding, review as you wish, although I did give you an extra long chapter for the long wait. 
> 
> Also, apparently, Stiles does not smell like wolf-nip and Stiles is trying to get rid of his prejudice and beginning to hate Derek. Tell me what you thought of this chapter and my version of how born and bitten werewolves differ. 
> 
> And thank you so much for all the reviews for the last chapter and any other form of recognition. You guys are the best. Also expect more Stiles and Derek interactions...although we are still a long way from Sterek but baby steps. Baby steps.


	9. Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is still a bit of an asshole and Derek sucks at communicating.

A few days had passed since the full moon on Halloween, and both Stiles and Scott felt a gloom hanging over both their heads. Stiles knew their despondent nature had to do with the full moon, even more so for Scott. Stiles desperately wanted to know what had happened to Scott on that night, but he knew Scott would not give any information. But he wanted to know, more than just to ease his curiosity but to help. He wanted his friend cheery again.

Stiles flew in between the Quidditch posts looking to Scott. The morning wind hit their rosy cheeks as they flew together in the early waking hours around the Quidditch stand. Not a single house had booked the pitch that day and both of them were taking advantage of it.

However, neither was flying with the enthusiasm they usually had. It was all very somber. Stiles turned to look at Scott for what felt like the twelfth time in what was thirty minutes. Scott lazily flew not even paying the slightest attention.

He looked utterly defeated and Stiles could not blame him.

Stiles had to admit that if he was in Scott’s situation he would have honestly thought about killing himself.

But Scott, Scott was different. Scott was resilient. Scott was a Gryffindor. He could make it through it all if he learned to control that side of himself. He just needed practice.

“Oh great, you two are here.”

Stiles and Scott were broken out of their thoughts when a voice sounded below them.

They both looked down and saw Cora with a broom in her hand. She was wearing muggle jeans with a Gryffindor sweater and her hair was tied in a high ponytail. “I’ll come back later.” She turned on her heel and began walking away.

Stiles took one look at her and he had the best idea.

He swooped down quickly and flew in front of Cora, stopping her from leaving. “You’re a werewolf!” Stiles shouted.

Cora rolled her eyes. “You get more volume if you speak from your diaphragm.” Cora said.

Stiles jumped off his broom without any finesse and saw Scott approaching them quickly. “No I mean. You’re a freaking werewolf; you can help Scott.”

“And what do you want me to help him with?”

“To control his werewolf side during the full moon and how to focus on his anchor.” Stiles stood a little straighter and rubbed his knuckles on his chest with a snarky smile. “Cause you know I’m his anchor.”

Cora turned to Scott when he walked next to him. She gave him a quick glance and then fully scanned Stiles. “No wonder he can’t control himself. I can’t imagine any werewolf willingly wanting to think of you.”

“Hey,” Stiles reprimanded. “I’m a great anchor. Scott can always control himself when he’s around me for your information. He just needs some extra help. Maybe some werewolf 101.”

“Uh first of all, have you ever considered that the reason he can control himself around you is because you are highly hard to ignore when you are in the vicinity of anyone, especially a werewolf. Your scent is hideous; I keep retching in my mouth when you’re near me. And second of all, no. I can’t help. I already told Scott, I’m a Beta which means I’m pretty much useless. And truthfully, I want nothing to do with you two. You aren’t part of my pack so I have no business helping you despite you being a werewolf. I saved your asses back there in Hogsmeade so consider my involvement done. Deucalion would have killed you back there. Consider yourself lucky that you only got the bite.”

“Lucky!” Scott growled.

Stiles turned to his friend and saw him in mid shift. His eyes were golden yellow and his canines were extending. Shit the werewolf was coming out.

“ _ **Scott**_.” Stiles placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder and Scott immediately reverted to his human form.

“Huh,” Cora observed them with fascination. “Maybe you aren’t such a bad anchor.” She sighed. “If you want help though, go talk to Derek.”

“Derek? You’re crazy brother Derek?” Stiles laughed.

“Yeah,” She answered with a sardonic smile. “He knows more about werewolf stuff than I do. I’m sure you can get help from him.”

“Isn’t he a Beta too?” Stiles questioned.

“He is but maybe he remembers more of Alpha work than I do.” She said.

“Where is he?” Scott asked.

Cora thought about it for a while. “The Forbidden Forest, I think.”

“What?” Both Stiles and Scott asked in tandem.

“Oh, c’mon Scott, you’re a Gryffindor. Don’t tell me you're scared of a few trees.”

“The forest is more than a few trees I’m pretty sure that’s why they call it a forest and its uh, it’s forbidden.” Scott answered.

“He’s not far inside. He’s by the stream.” She sighed. “You won’t miss him.”

Stiles and Scott both nodded and decided now would be the best time to go. They thanked Cora who grumbled at them to leave so she could practice. Both of them placed their brooms in their respective locker rooms and walked at a face pace to the Forbidden Forest.

Stiles already felt proud of himself. He could see Scott jaunt with a happier step that he did not have before. He laughed aloud that caused Scott to give him a strange look, but after a while, Scott began laughing with him. Stiles pulled Scott into a head noogie, that Scott for the first time was able to release from without any difficulty and instead locked Stiles in one.

Stiles struggled to get away but he couldn’t. “Hey no fair!” Stiles screeched in laughter.

Scott didn’t let go. He dug his knuckles into Stiles’ shaved head. “Feel my pain!”

“I give! I give!” Stiles choked with a hoarse chuckle.

Scott released him and instead placed his arm around Stiles’ shoulder.

They reached the Forbidden Forest and Cora was right. They did not miss Derek. They couldn’t. He was by a tree doing a round of quick pull ups from a thick branch. Stiles mouth dropped open. He had seen a lot of the other guys half naked, and Scott fully naked on one strange occasion that Stiles was never going to mention ever again because it had been embarrassing for both of them, but this somehow felt different. Derek was wearing faded muggle jeans and that was it, despite the chilly air outside, the freaking freak of nature. He was bare-chested and sweat glistened on muscles that were starting to form on his teenage body. He didn’t seem winded at all as he did the pull ups, he was only breathing deeply. And how was that fair, when Stiles still had his baby fat.

Scott and Stiles turned to each other with confusion not knowing who should approach Derek first. Stiles nudged Scott harshly to go and Scott tumbled forward a bit. His sudden movement and his sudden crunch on dead leaves, alerted Derek. That Derek dropped to the ground and growled.

Stiles reared back as he saw Derek’s eyes flash an electric blue for a few second before returning to his mossy green.

“Uh…” Scott said awkwardly.

“What do you want?” Derek walked over to them with a powerful gait.

“Uh…I need help controlling myself. Cora said I could come to you.” Scott stuttered.

Derek sighed heavily. “Go to Deaton.”

“I already did.” Scott admonished. “He already told me. I need to find an anchor and I did but I can’t focus on it. I need your help.”

“What makes you think I will help you?” Derek scoffed.

“Cause you’re a freaking Hufflepuff,” Stiles shot aloud. “It’s in your freaking Hufflepuff manifesto that you have to help everyone. If you don’t follow it isn’t there a rule that all fire brimstone will reign over.”

Derek snarled in Stiles in direction. “Yeah, I don’t think so. Get lost, I’m busy.”

“No,” Scott stood his ground. “You have to help me. What if I attack someone?”

“That sounds like a you problem.” Derek sneered.

“If I attack someone, they will know what I am.”

“ _I don’t care_ ,” Derek answered. He went over to his bag and pulled out a water bottle. He drank some and then prompted to sit on the floor to do sit ups.

“I will tell people what you are,” Scott threatened.

Derek sat up quickly and cocked his head in Scott’s direction. He stared straight into his eyes and then smiled darkly. Stiles found it unnerving. “You wouldn’t.” He then resumed his sit-ups.

“Hey listen up you mutt!” Stiles spoke up and marched over to Derek.

Derek glared and flashed his canine teeth. Stiles jumped back and flung his arms, ok maybe not the best choice of words. “Ok don’t listen up if you don’t want to but really Scott needs help and you are really are kind of the last person we can go to.” Stiles spoke honestly.

Derek stood up and ignored Stiles. He went directly to Scott. “Look, your anchor has to be meaningful to you, it can’t just be a simple friendship. It has to mean something. So, if Stiles here is your anchor that makes you remember you are human, then great, focus on why he makes you human but if you can’t. Find yourself a new anchor.”

Derek went over to his bags and picked up a sweater putting it on. He picked up the rest of his bags and looked to Scott. “You’re on your own, got it.”

“What? That’s it! There has to be more.”

Derek rolled his eyes, walking away deeper into the forest. “Go back to the castle, Scott.”

Stiles watched Derek walk away and he was filled with a sudden rage to hex his back. He held steady and turned to Scott who looked crestfallen. “Hey dude,” Stiles clasped his friend’s shoulder. “We’ll figure it out. Don’t worry. Ok.”

Scott nodded.

“Look on the bright side. I’m going to kick your ass tomorrow at Quidditch.”

“Yeah right,” Scott laughed, nudging his friend away. “I practiced all summer. We are going to win against Slytherin.”

“Whatever you say man,” Stiles laughed.

|~~***~~|

Stiles was filled with jitters from head to toe as he bounced in place. He tried to shake off the nerves but he found that he really couldn’t.

“Stilinski, stop.” Jackson snarled beside him.

Stiles tried to but found himself just buzzing more with untapped energy. Today, would be his first Quidditch match and he wanted to make it count. He listened for the command for their captain to tell them to mount their brooms, and then waited for the doors to open. Quickly the Slytherin team shot out into the pitch, flying on their brooms. They circled the pitch a few times, listening to the entire stand go crazy. He loved it. He saw the Gryffindor team released and then the two teams were facing each other.

Stiles saw Scott and both of them flashed each other good lucks.

Finstock appeared below them and pointed to every single one of them. “I don’t want any funny business, got it! No Flacking, Blagging, Blatching of any sorts!” He turned around in a few circles and then caught Stiles’ eye. “Stilinski. They let you on the team!” All the Slytherin team laughed and a few of the Gryffindor chuckled. “Eh, whatever. Good luck to both of you.”

Then without preamble Finstock kicked the box opened where the bludgers and snitch flew out. Finstock then threw the Quaffle in the air.

All the chasers flew to catch it, but in less than a second Scott had flown quicker than everyone else and caught the Quaffle. Everyone froze for a second at the quickness of the Gryffindor chaser, but when Scott began to fly toward the hoops, everyone went into motion.

All the Slytherins went after Scott to get the Quaffle back, but Scott swerved in complicated turns avoiding each one of them with ease. He swirled in a full 360 motion toward Danny who was in the middle post, and when he reached it, he shot the Quaffle right underneath Danny.

The Gryffindor stands rose to their feet cheering loudly at Scott and all Scott could do was smile bashfully.

“What in Merlin’s name was that!” The Gryffindor Captain shouted with an impressed smile as he flew toward Scott.

Scott shrugged. “Don’t know.”

“Whatever it was, keep doing it!” The captain smiled and took off toward the Slytherins, where at the moment, Jackson had the ball.

Jackson held the Quaffle tightly under his arm and maneuvered from Ethan as he came at him. A stray bludger flew near his head and Jackson took a quick dive. The Gryffindor Captain was waiting for him, but Jackson saw Aiden from the corner of his eye and threw the Quaffle. As the Quaffle flew into the air, Scott appeared from nowhere and intercepted. He dismounted his broom for a brief second and kicked the ball to Ethan across the pitch before mounting his broom again.

Ethan caught the Quaffle. Jackson came quickly at Ethan, and to avoid losing the ball, Ethan passed to the Gryffindor Captain. The Gryffindor Captain shot through the far left hoop.

The Gryffindor stands yelled again and all the chasers knocked heads as the commentator called the score. The Slytherins moaned and howled.

Danny grabbed the scored Quaffle throwing it to Stiles. Stiles caught it, and flew toward the Gryffindor posts. He was doing a decent job of avoiding Ethan and the Gryffindor Captain with the help of Unger and Reddick, the Slytherin beaters. His team took defensive maneuvers and Stiles was glad that Jackson was able to put the animosity aside so they could win.

For the moment, both Slytherin beaters flanked him on both sides blocking anyone from taking the ball while Jackson and Aiden protected him from behind. Stiles barely flinched when he saw Aiden punch the Gryffindor Beater and focused on scoring.

He saw Bennett at the middle post and Stiles faked left and smirked when he saw Bennett begin to fly in that direction. Stiles then shot the Quaffle right and smirked as he saw the Quaffle fly right toward the post.

Everyone expected Stiles to make the shot but then Scott came from nowhere and intercepted the Quaffle before it made it through the post. He flew quickly to the opposite side of the pitch. He back flipped from his broom and kicked the ball through the post.

The stands went wild at Scott’s display and no one could fault him for it. The move had been incredible.

“Circle on McCall!” Stiles heard the Slytherin Captain shout. Stiles nodded and flew toward his best friend. All the chasers tried to get at him when he caught the Quaffle, but again Scott was evading everyone. Unger and Reddick shot two Bludgers at him and Scott was not even fazed. He flew around them and managed to get the Bludgers to hit Jackson.

The bludgers collided with Jackson’s broom and Jackson fell to the ground from twenty feet in the air in a flurry of green. Everyone cried in worry and all the Slytherins dived down to make sure he was ok while the Gryffindors hovered overhead.

Danny got there first and was cradling Jackson’s body.

“Everyone move!”

Stiles saw Finstock push the Slytherins out of the way, except for Danny while he checked on Jackson’s arm. Finstock touched the arm and Jackson hissed in pain. “Oh great, I think your bone might have some bruising. I’ll call the healer to come check on you, K?”

Jackson nodded through the pain and sagged further into Danny. Timeout was called and all the Gryffindors were forced to dismount their brooms and wait on the ground.

“Stilinski,” Jackson called. Stiles turned to Jackson and approached him cautiously. “What’s up with your friend?”

“What do you mean?” Stiles asked. Stiles flinched when Jackson shot him a glare. Stiles knew exactly what Jackson was talking about. He really hadn’t thought about Scott’s new reflexes to travel into Quidditch, but it did make sense. Although, it did make Stiles feel a little jealous. He didn’t really known if it was cheating or not since Scott was just acting on instinct but it sure felt like cheating when Stiles had practiced just as hard as Scott to get better at Quidditch over the summer. “We practiced a lot during the summer,” Stiles finally answered.

“Did he get a trainer or something?” Danny asked disbelieving.

Stiles shrugged and was saved from answering any other questions when they saw their school’s healer approach. She kneeled beside Jackson and waved her wand over his arm a few times. His arm glowed blue and then a pale grey. The healer maneuvered Jackson’s arm a few times until she was sure that he was in no pain and then deemed Jackson healthy enough to play.

The match resumed a few minutes later and it was not looking good. Scott had scored three more times making the score 60-10. Gryffindor was slaughtering them.

Unger somehow though managed to aim his bludger without Scott noticing and hit Scott on his arm causing him to drop the Quaffle. Scott turned to the beater and without meaning too, his eyes glowed golden yellow and claws began to lodge into his broom.

“ _ **Scott!**_ ” Stiles shouted in panic, watching the scene play out. Scott froze and turned to Stiles sharply where almost immediately his eyes turned brown and his claws receded.

“You good?” Stiles asked with caution.

Scott nodded and both of them barely noticed Jackson scoring a point. They did notice however, a flurry of red pass by them quickly. It took them a while to notice that it was Cora flying through the air. The commentator called that Cora had spotted the snitch and then Slytherin Captain took off after her. Cora was flying like a Quidditch professional, weaving through the post and dodging the Bludgers as they came her way. One nasty one came close to hitting her head, but Cora jumped off her broom to avoid it and then landed on her broom again. The chase for the snitch did not last that long, Cora was able to trick the Slytherin Captain for a few moments before she took off in the opposite direction. She caught the golden ball and the crowds erupted into a mix of cheers and groans.

“Gryffindor caught the snitch! Gryffindor wins for a total of 210 points!”

Everyone was stunned that Gryffindor had one against Slytherin. It had been years since the red and gold house had won against the team of snakes. The Slytherins dismounted their brooms and watched with envy as the Gryffindor team flew around the pitch screaming at the top of their lungs.

It took about a minute for Gryffindor to calm down and then to dismount their brooms. They landed in front of the Slytherins and shook their hands respectively. It was not until Jackson saw Scott’s broom, that he noticed strange indentations at the grip. He stared at it for a few moments as he shook Scott’s hand, but when the next Gryffindor came Jackson could not get the image out of his head.

“Dude, that was unfair,” Stiles stated when both teams had emerged from the locker rooms. “You can’t play like that. I’m pretty sure it’s cheating.”

Scott had the decency to look sheepish. “I couldn’t help it. All my senses were heightened. And it’s not like I was the only one who used them. Cora did too.”

“It is still unfair. You used them to win.” Stiles remarked, scoffing. “We got slaughtered out there. Correction you slaughtered us out there.”

Scott bashfully looked at Stiles. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah whatever.” Stiles feigned indifference, but became red alert when he saw Derek Hale marching toward them furious.

“What did you think you were doing?” Derek seethed, when he was near them.

“What?” Scott asked.

“You used your abilities out there!” Derek grabbed the collar of Scott’s shirt, reeling him in.

Stiles eyes opened wide. He placed his hand cautiously between them, separating the two.“Hey he didn’t mean to!”

“He didn’t mean to doesn’t cut it,” Derek smiled sarcastically.

“If you didn’t want Scott using werewolf abilities during a Quidditch match you should have told him and help him control it.” Stiles said, raising his voice.

Derek turned his anger on the Slytherin.“I thought it would be obvious not to use them in a stadium full of witches and wizards who would have no remorse on putting a werewolf down.”

“Scott wasn’t the only one, your sister used them too!”

“Yeah, but she’s not the one out there nearly shifting!”  

“Well maybe, you should have helped Scott control it!”

“I’m not gonna help Scott.”

“Why not?”

“Because I said so.”

“Because I said so,” Stiles mimicked, anger fueling quickly. “That’s your reasoning, so glad I’m wasting my breath to argue with such an intelligent being.”

Derek clenched his jaw. “Shut up.”

“Oh resorting to seven year old tactics, that’s great very manly of you.”

Derek’s eyes flashed blue as he stepped further into Stiles space. “At least I’m not an annoying little shit who’s getting involved in things he has no intelligent capacity to ever understand. I mean why are you even here Stiles defending Scott? You don’t even care about werewolves, just a few months ago you were spouting brainwashed pureblood prejudices about my kind. You have no say in helping Scott when you still got your hypocritical foot so far up your ass.”

“At least I’m making the effort to help. What are you doing? Crossing your arms and brooding? That’s not helping, Scott.”

“Stop talking about me like I’m not here.” Scott growled menacingly. His eyes shifted to his beta yellow and fangs began to protrude from his mouth.

Stiles turned his attention to his best friend. He placed a hand on his shoulder gently. “ _ **Scott**_ , hey.” It took a while for Scott to calm down, but when he did, Derek scoffed.

“Stiles, get some new friends. Scott here is a lost cause.”

“I’m not abandoning my best friend.”

“Then your a pathetic lost cause too.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes and marched to Derek. “Well fuck you! At least I’m not a closed off ass-wipe because his entire family died!”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Derek scorned, his voice wavering.

“I think I do. You think because your family is dead it gives you the right to act like an entitled jerk.” He began to mimic Derek’s voice, which wasn’t that good. “Oh look at me me being moody because my family died. Don’t come running to me because I’ll just say go fuck yourselves and watch you burn.”

Derek’s canines showed and he moved to attack Stiles.

“Woah there!” From nowhere, Cora had emerged and was grabbing Derek from under his arms. “Calm down. What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Let’s go.” Derek grabbed his sister’s arm and dragged her from Stiles and Scott.

Stiles and Scott panted for a few moments regaining their breath. “I’m fucked aren’t I?” Scott said.

“Not if I can help it.” Stiles stated.

|~~***~~|

It was around the end of November and Lydia was still in command of her dueling club. Despite them getting a new Defense teacher again, no new students joined the club. She began to wonder if people just didn’t care. She sighed. If that were true then it was their prerogative. They could all fail their OWLS next year.

Lydia through a well-timed expelliarmus in Danny’s direction as they dueled. Danny dodged out of the way and cast another spell. Lydia loved dueling with Danny. The boy threw everything he had at her. He wouldn’t hold anything back. After dueling for an extensive five minutes it was Lydia who called a break and Danny readily agreed. Lydia adjusted her curls and looked around the room.

Jackson was dueling with Cora who were both throwing hexes and curses that she had specifically said not to use. She was close to reprimanding them but thought better of it. She did not want to get on the wrong side of a spell. She turned to the far end and saw the Stilinski boy dueling with Scott. And there she stopped.

Scott was the new superstar of Hogwarts.

Everyone was amazed at his chaser abilities.

He had become better than Jackson and that was saying something.

Lydia examined the boy. He was not that bad looking. He was cute and dorky in that puppy dog way. She wondered if he had any love interests but scoffed at the idea. Scott and Stilinski were nobodies despite the fact that they had made a name for themselves as the school pranksters. Lydia paused. After Scott’s spectacular performance he wouldn’t be a nobody anymore. In all actuality, he was a somebody already. And wasn’t that interesting. She saw him send the Stilinski boy flying toward her. He fell on the floor causing him a brief moment of dizziness. She stared down at him and smiled.

“All right there, Stilinski?” She asked.

The fourteen-year-old boy gasped for air trying to form a sentence. She was slightly amused that he was always flustered around her but she would never admit that. She saw him grasp his chest to gain control of his breathing but then she saw gold flicker in her vision. Her eyes trailed to his chest where she saw a long necklace with a pendant shine on his white button down shirt. She saw him panic when her eyes met the pendant and he tried to hastily shove it back down his shirt. But it was too late; she already saw it. She found it odd that he would carry a pendant that kept track of the moon phase, and she attributed his panic that it most likely held sentimental value.

She watched him head back to Scott who gave him apologies and Lydia practically melted when she saw Scott smile. She was tempted to go flirt with the boy now but as she thought about it, Scott was still far beneath her. Not suitable at all.

She knew of Scott’s attitude toward school and frankly he wasn’t that bright.

Jackson would be far much better as a suitor, but she wasn’t ready to touch that. Jackson was incredibly smart, athletic, and a leader. He was perfect and perhaps thats why Lydia hadn’t made her move. Fearing, Jackson would pass her superiority, held Lydia back from getting with her best friend.

Speaking of Jackson, she turned and saw Cora launch a spell at Jackson that caused him to fly in the air and land directly over Scott McCall.

The situation that followed was something that Lydia would never forget.

Jackson crashed hard into Scott sending both boys sprawling on the ground.

“Fuck Jackson not only do you let a girl give it to you up the ass but in a dueling match too.” Scott groaned , sitting up. Everyone stopped what they were doing. Everyone was shocked that Scott had even retorted to Jackson let alone insult him.

“What did you say? McCall?”

“It’s Scott. We get it you are a fucking pureblood you don’t have to exaggerate it with all this last name bullshit.” Scott answered.

“And what McCall resort to your level of taint. Your father was a fucking muggle who left your family last I heard and your mother is a sickening mudblood. Don’t tell me how to act.”

Lydia watched as Scott stood quickly to his feet and glared at Jackson. “Don’t you call my mother that your inbred freak.”

Jackson shuffled onto his feet and stood chest to chest with Scott. He leaned in close to the other and whispered menacingly, although with the silence in the room everyone was able to hear. “Listen here you filth. I’m going to pretend you didn’t say anything and just walk away. But next time, you talk like this in front of my face you can be sure I’ll throw you into the Black Lake and let the Squid take care of you, got that.”

Scott smirked and stepped impossibly closer. “Oh, as always letting someone else do your work. Honestly, Jackson do you have any accomplishments of your own.”

It was then that Jackson pulled out his wand. Everyone gasped, but Danny was quick to disarm his friend. “Jackson, let it go.” Danny warned.

Jackson clenched his jaw, but after a moment, headed toward Danny.

“Wow Jackson really? Is there anyone you aren’t a bitch to?”

That’s all it took for Jackson to turn around and tackle Scott to the ground. Scott laughed menacingly as Jackson threw punches at Scott’s face. Scott began to bleed through his nose quickly and Jackson looked like he was not going to stop.

“Jackson!” Lydia shouted, pushing the students who had surrounded the pair to watch the fight.

Jackson did not turn to her. Jackson continued attacking Scott with ferocity in his eyes and Scott continued laughing, not even struggling.

“Jackson!” Lydia screamed again. Her friend was not stopping. Lydia was panicking as she began to see Jackson’s hands begin to bruise and bleed with the force. She saw Danny trying to get Jackson off, but Jackson pushed against his friend, while the Stilinski boy tried to grab Scott. It was too much. “ _Impedimenta!_ ” Lydia shouted, loudly.

The spell knocked both people back until they collided with opposite sides of the wall and were bound there by their arms and legs.

“Both of you calm down!” Lydia shrieked, glaring at Jackson.

Jackson avoided her gaze and looked to his feet. Lydia narrowed her eyes. She would deal with Jackson later. She turned her glare to Scott who was menacingly calm as the Stilinski boy was talking to him. But Scott was not paying attention. He was staring right at her like she was a piece of meat. She did not relent her gaze though. She stood her ground and could see that Stilinski was now really trying to calm Scott down. She narrowed her eyes but then her eyes opened wide when she saw a trickle of blood slowly begin to return into his nostrils.

And then everything clicked quickly.

Scott was a better Quidditch player.

Scott was speaking unlike himself.

He was angrier and stronger.

He was walking out of his classes on a near constant basis.

The pendant that Stilinski had was filled to show that the full moon would be tomorrow.

Scott was a werewolf.

Lydia didn’t know what to do. Suddenly, Stiles reaction to the pendant made sense. He knew what Scott was. Lydia pulled out her wand and diminished the binding charm. She saw Stilinski grab Scott by the collar and drag him outside. And that was that.

Lydia turned back to Jackson trying to recollect herself. She was positive that Stilinski and Scott were trying to keep this secret so she was going to keep this hidden from everyone. Including Jackson. Despite always looking out for herself, she knew the consequences of being a werewolf. If she revealed that Scott was one, he would be sent to the ministry to be executed and she did not want someone’s life on her hands. She resolved quickly to forget the entire matter and continue her own life. Which meant…

“JACKSON!” She shrieked, stomping toward him. “HOW DARE YOU-“

LINE BREAK

Stiles pushed Scott into one of the alcoves as soon as they left the dueling club. He made sure he was sitting upright before he could get down to business. He was ready to reprimand his friend but then he saw the cruel malicious look flicking in between his eyes. It was unsettling to watch especially since at this distance he could see the flickers of gold threatening to emerge as Scott healed from his injuries.

“ _ **Scott!**_ ” Stiles scorned when his friend smugly smiled.

Scott blinked for one long moment, shook his head, then finally turned to Stiles with a look confusion. “What happened? Where are we?”

Stiles flung his arms around to demonstrate his frustration. “What happened?! You went all psycho werewolf in there and insulted Jackson to his face where he then proceeded to pummel you into the ground. I’m surprised you are still alive.”

“I don’t remember…” Scott whispered, placing a hand to the side of his head.

“It’s the full moon isn’t? It’s tomorrow and I remember you being homicidal like this last month.” Stiles answered, sitting on his heels.

Scott turned to Stiles with pleading eyes. “Yeah. I can’t control it, Stiles. The werewolf is screaming inside my head demanding me to kill any threat. I think the only reason I didn’t attack Jackson though cause the werewolf told me he sees him as a worthless cub trying to claim alpha status.”

“Wait, what? The werewolf talks to you. Why didn’t you say anything before?”

Scott shrugged and then cradled his head with his hands. “I only told Deaton about it. He said it was normal but I don’t like it. That’s why I didn’t tell you about it. I didn’t want you to think of me as crazy.”

“Dude,” Stiles sighed, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I already think you’re crazy. I think I’m crazy for even being involved with this whole mess. But the truth is that I’m not leaving you, ok. You got me and I guess Mr. Howl-y.”

“Howl-y?”

“The werewolf. He has to have a name. We can’t just call it the werewolf in public you know. This makes it easier. We’ll call him little Howl-y.”

“You are the worst with names, you know that,” Scott scoffed. “Merlin forbid you have a kid.”

“Hey!” Stiles retorted.

Scott laughed and Stiles felt at ease that he had his friend back, well until the doors from the dueling club opened. Stiles knew the meeting still had about another half an hour to go so he wasn’t that surprised to see Cora walk out by herself. She walked with powerful strides, just like her brother until she was beside the other two. She remained standing and glared at them…well more like Scott.

“What did you think you were doing in there?” Cora hissed, hands on her hips. “Keep control in there. I saw your eyes flash twice. You’re lucky nobody else saw.”

“I’m sorry…I couldn’t control it.” Scott muttered with a whine.

“Well you better be able to control it McCall because if your werewolf side by any miracle of a chance took Jackson as a threat you would have shifted and killed him right there. Control your anger. Got that!” She didn’t even wait for Scott to respond. “And I thought you went to Derek for help. What happened?”

“Your douchey brother didn’t want to help, thank you very much,” Stiles defended.

Cora sighed deeply. “You probably insulted him that’s why. Merlin you two are idiots. You better hope for your sake this doesn’t happen again. Or I will rip Stilinski’s side open and wear his intestines like a belt.”

“What? Why me!”

“Cause you are supposed to be his anchor and you’re doing a bang-up job on it. Since you two don’t have any classes together tomorrow I would advise you Scott to stay in the room until we have to go to Deaton’s.”

“I have potions tomorrow,” Scott whined. Cora gave him incredulous look. “Yeah, you’re right. I don’t want to go anyway. Take notes for me in class then.”

“I got the impression you didn’t care for school.” She said.

“Doesn’t mean I have an ambition to fail.”

“You’re a strange one Scott.” Cora sighed, but agreed to take notes for him. “I would also suggest trying to get into my brother’s good graces before the winter moon begins. Those tend to be stronger.”

“Great,” Scott answered sarcastically. “Will do. Thanks.”

“Just trying to help,” She whispered and walked away.

|~~***~~|

While Scott was holed up in his room, Stiles took the time during his lunch break to go look for Derek Hale. When he approached the Hufflepuff table though he realized the brooding dark haired teen that was usually easy to pick out in the sea of too happy yellow was nowhere to be found. He realized that he had never seen Derek Hale in the Great Hall unless it was for dinner. And wasn’t that strange. Stiles wondered where Derek Hale went off to eat. He most likely went to the Forbidden Forest and hunted deer to eat raw. That was something he seemed he would enjoy.

He went over to the Gryffindor table to ask Cora Hale where her terrible brother was at but when he approached he saw that she was eating her lunch with a bigger scorn than usual. Without thinking twice, he clutched the pendant under his shirt, knowing the full moon was tonight and approached Cora. He sat down next to her and pulled a plate gathering a few croissant sandwiches on his plate. He could sense that Cora was giving him a glare and before she could threaten him he looked at her with worry.

“Cora, are you ok or is it you know?” He asked. She was taken aback by the question.

“Great Godric, Stiles!” Ethan shouted from the opposite side of the table. “You can’t just ask a girl if she’s on her period!” Cora turned a powerful glare on Ethan causing him to reel back. “Even if she is…”

Stiles immediately went on caution mode. It was never good to rile Cora up especially on a day like this. “Ethan uh you really shouldn’t-“

Cora cut him off with a snarl. “Yeah, unless you want your balls hanging off the Great Hall.”

Ethan’s eyes opened up in shock. “Going.” He said picking up his things quickly.

As he turned his attention away, Stiles turned back to Cora and leaned in to whisper, “So is it a thing or?”

“Why do you care?” She spat.

Stiles furrowed his brows. “I'm concerned you seem pretty down and you're helping Scott by keeping him in his room.”

Ethan unwisely spoke up again, “ Yeah what is up with Scott? He hasn't been himself lately.”

Both Stiles and Cora shot him a glare. “Going going,” He answered, flinging his bag over his shoulder.

When he left, Stiles once again tried to get through Cora. “No but really talk to me.” He pleaded.

“It’s not _that_ —it’s my sister she hasn't written to me in weeks and even stranger if I send her something the owl just comes back with the letter I sent.”

“Did something happen to her or?”

“I don't know and that's what worries me—and why am I telling you this!”

Stiles grinned as he shoved a large bit of his sandwich in his mouth. “Cause you need someone who’s not emotionally constipated like your brother to talk to.”

“Haha...no by the way I did talk to my brother yesterday and you two fucked up,” Even though she said that Stiles saw a little bit of the life return in the back of her eyes. Even more so as she began to eat.

That’s why it took Stiles a while to respond to the accusation. “What we didn't do anything!”

“Apparently, you did because when I mentioned Scott or you especially you he growled at me so whatever you did, go fix it. Maybe he'll help Scott after you apologize.”

“Well uh where is he? I don't think I've ever seen him eat lunch in the great hall. Like Ever.”

“I don't really know where he goes during this time. I just know he likes eating by himself outside.”

“Great outside that's helpful,” Stiles sarcastically jibbed.

“Hey, I've helped you and Scott a lot, ok.”

Stiles sighed. “Yeah you're right, sorry I'll go look for him now.” Stiles began gathering his things and stuffing the rest of his sandwich in his mouth. “Thanks,” He mumbled, standing up.

“Whatever,” She said waving him off.

Stiles forcefully swallowed his food to groan. “Merlin, you Hales can't even say you’re welcome properly!”

Cora pursed her lips and turned to Stiles. “I'm finding it easy to believe now that you insulted my brother.”

“I didn't do anything!” He shouted, causing a few people to give disgusted looks in his direction.

Cora sighed exasperatedly. “Stiles.”

“What?”

“Go.”

“...Right”

|~~***~~|

Stiles did not know really know where to find Derek. At first, he was going to head to the lake as most students liked to eat their lunch there, but Derek Hale was not going to be most people. So instead of heading to the lake, Stiles went into the Forbidden Forest. Stiles followed the stream and there he saw Derek. It was nothing how Stiles expected to see him. He wasn’t working out like the last time they saw him there and he wasn’t biting into a deer like Stiles had thought. Instead, he saw Derek sitting on a large boulder eating cucumber sandwiches while reading a book and marking something in his notebook. Beside him, was a large family of thestrals that were circling around him and trying to grab at his lunch. The sight was surreal. It looked so normal that Stiles didn’t know how to approach.

Luckily, Derek did it for him. “What do you want Stiles?” He drawled, not looking toward him.

“What? How did you hear me?” Stiles asked indecorously, approaching slowly.

Derek again, without looking at Stiles, pointed at his nose. “I can smell you half a mile away. You really do smell horrible.”

“Thanks,” Stiles sarcastically jibbed. If he had insulted Derek, then the other teen deserved it.

“Did you just come here to stink up the Forbidden Forest or is there a specific reason you’re here?” Derek asked.

“No um..” Stiles rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m apologizing?” His voice cracked at the last word.

“For?” Derek questioned as he wrote something down in his notebook.

Stiles clapped his hands together in front of him, “Uh I really don’t know dude. Cora said Scott and I insulted you.”

Stiles heard Derek scoff. “Gee, your apology sounds so sincere.”

Stiles clenched his jaw and nodded. Derek was right. He wasn’t sincere since he didn’t even know what he was apologizing for. He was going to attempt to get through the brooding older teen but then he saw Derek pet one of the thestrals and give it a piece of his sandwich.

“They seem to like you.” Stiles said aloud.

“They only want my food.” Derek paused and turned to Stiles for the first time. “Wait you can see them?”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah…my mother..she…”Stiles trailed off, looking at his shoes scuffing the ground. The rest was not necessary. If Derek could see them as well, then he knew what it meant. Stiles remembered when he had read about them second year he had been severely overwhelmed with shock.

“Oh.” Was Derek’s reply, turning to his book only to take his eyes away from Stiles.

The silence was awkward after that as Derek pretended to read and Stiles crunched leaves with his left foot. But after a few moments, Stiles spoke up. “Look dude, whatever I said back there I'm sorry. I don't know what I said but I'm sorry I offended you. I'm willing to humiliate myself in front of the entire student body if it means you'll help Scott. The full moon is tonight and I don't want Scott to go through that again. You saw him! He was covered from head to toe in his own blood.”

“No.” Derek simply said.

“What?!” Stiles shouted.

“No.”

Stiles stepped forward, now only three feet away from Derek. “What?” He repeated. “You can’t just say no.”

“Complete sentence? Then no I won’t help.” Derek spoke up. He threw the remaining of his sandwich at the thestrals where they ran off to go get it. He then packed all his stuff together quickly and slung his backpack over his shoulder.

“What do you mean you won’t help?” Stiles screeched, following Derek. “Derek?! Derek?!” Stiles quickly become frustrated as Derek began walking away at a fast speed. Stiles could literally feel his body bubble up with anger filling him with warmth and  his skin tingled with something strange making the hairs stand up on his arms. On instinct, he took out his wand and pointed at Derek as he shouted. “ _ **Sit your ass down, Derek Hale. You aren’t leaving without an explanation!**_ ”

Stiles did not expect Derek to stop abruptly and plop himself on the ground. Stiles stared at him strangely but was happy that the werewolf had listened. He jogged to catch up to where Derek was sitting and when he caught his breath Stiles sternly spoke, pointing his wand at Derek. “You’re going to tell me how Scott can control himself or I swear I’ll get a bludger bat and coat it in wolfsbane if you don't tell me.”

Derek remained silent and looked at Stiles with a strange look.

“What?”

Derek still did not answer and then Stiles saw it. Derek was pleading with his eyes. Stiles immediately understood then. He was so shocked that he placed his wand back in his robes. “Merlin, I get it. It’s not that you won’t help Scott; it’s that you can’t help. Otherwise you wouldn’t be at the Shrieking Shack every full moon.”

“Shut up…” Derek muttered, looking away from Stiles.

“What?! I’m just saying the truth. Why didn’t you just say that before. It would have been a lot more helpful and I wouldn’t have said a lot of things about...”

Derek wouldn’t meet Stiles, which angered him greatly. Stiles nodded and looked to the castle unable to look at Derek any longer. “Ok fine don't say anything. Be a sourwolf. I'll help Scott myself...you can continue to brood over whatever communication issues you've got going on.” He began heading to the castle, but a thought struck him causing him to turn back. “By the way, you should talk to Cora and at least try to act like a comforting brother.” And with that Stiles finally left. If Derek was going to act like a douche, then Derek could go screw himself. He was done with him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right finally real Derek and Stiles interactions. Tell me what you think, please.


	10. Let's Make a Prank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To get Stiles out of a rut, a prank must ensue.

Harsh flakes of snow landed on the window panes of the Herbology Greenhouse. Stiles stared at the evening spread out against the sky like a cocktail of deep indigo. The blanched full moon beamed down onto the beginning winter snow on the trees crusted with snowflakes. It almost seemed serene but behind that facade Stiles felt the scenery dreary.

With Professor Morrell and Headmaster Deaton, the three worked together on a potion inside the greenhouse as they waited for the night to pass. Both of them had tried to send Stiles back to the Slytherin dungeons, but when Stiles put his foot down and demanded (whined and bothered insistently) the two were forced to let him stay.

“So why are we making healing potion again?” Stiles asked as he cut up an unknown strain of wolfsbane. Deaton had given him a ruler and told him to cut the plant exactly two centimeters. Stiles concentrated fiercely on the task.

“Some emissaries from Luxembourg are asking for a batch. Since we are the only ones who know how to make a successful potion for werewolves they came to us.” Deaton informed.

“Oh, why don’t you give them the instructions then?”

Deaton was cutting up his own plants and his quick movements alluded to the fact he had done this before. “Its best to keep the potion between my sister and I as a substitute for one of the plants could kill the werewolf. It’s a precaution.”

“Oh.” He finished cutting the plant and he handed the cutting board with the cut up plant to Morrell who was currently stirring the cauldron.

“There should be some dittany in Greenhouse two can you go get it?” Morrell asked.

Stiles nodded, wiping his hands on his trousers. He came back into the room with a handful of the pink flower and was informed to ground the petals so there were exactly 16.5 grams. Again, Stiles followed orders. He didn’t mind, making secret potions under the full moon was exciting and it helped take his mind off Scott. But of course, someone had to bring it up.

“How has Scott been doing?” Deaton questioned.

Stiles shrugged holding the pestle more tightly and digging it into the mortar more roughly. “Hasn’t been able to reel in his anchor yet. Why is that?”

Deaton slowed his knife. “I thought it was a concentration issue on Scott’s part but—“

“But what?” Stiles asked, stopping all together.

Deaton shook his head and continued chopping up ingredients. “Nothing, I need to do further research before I make any heady guesses.”

Stiles perked up at the word research. “Well I can help you research. I’m pretty good at that.”

“Of course you are,” Morrell spoke up as she was stirring the pot. “That’s why you gave me a detailed essay on how the bubotuber plant can cause boils on people’s skin instead of the practical uses of it.”

“But that is a use, you should have been more specific in my opinion.”

Morrell scoffed and turned back to stirring the potion. The room went silent for a moment, but then Deaton stopped cutting the potion ingredients and turned to Stiles with a concerned look. “Stiles, your father is working the Deucalion case.”

“Yeah.” Stiles said, not knowing where the conversation was going.

“Scott is a werewolf. How are you going to handle the situation during the break?”

Stiles slammed the pestle on the side of the mortar. “Shit.”          

“There’s a full moon during the break.” Deaton continued.

“Oh crap.”

Morrell stopped stirring the pot and levitated the pot toward the window so the full moon would shine on it. She set a timer and went over to the table where they were working at. “Why can’t you two stay for the break?”

“We can’t. Scott and I always stay at his mom’s house for the winter holidays. If we don’t go, she’ll know something is wrong and then come to Hogwarts to figure out what that is.”

“Well I’m sure a basement will work just fine. I can give you some mountain ash to use,” Morrell continued.

“Scott’s house doesn’t have a basement but I guess we can come to my house and use the dungeon.”

“Dungeon?” Morrell and Deaton asked in tandem.

“Uh my dad is a pure blood-was according to my grandpa but dungeons come with the whole pureblood package.”

“Of course, your father broke the line, it was all over the Daily Prophet.” Deaton said.

“Yeah after he married my mom. My grandparents weren’t too happy and supposedly they disowned him but he still has access to all the bank accounts so he’s still technically a Stilinski. He even has access to all the houses. Apparently when he got married to my mom, she asked for the smallest house they had but it’s still pretty big and it comes with a dungeon. I’ve never been under there but I know it’s there.”  Stiles rambled.

“Who was your mother again, if you don’t mind me asking?” Deaton asked.

“Claudia Silvia.”

Morrell smiled. “I went to school with her, she was a first year when I was a sixth. She was in Gryffindor and I remember her being incredibly brilliant for her age.”

Deaton interrupted. “I’m sorry, what was her last name?”

“Silvia. Why?”

Deaton’s brows furrowed. “Nothing.” He changed the conversation quickly and pointed at Stiles. “Where did your mother get that pendant?” Stiles looked to pendant resting below his sternum. He hadn’t even realized he had pulled out from beneath his shirt.

“I don’t know. She’s had it since I can remember. She never talked about it though.”

Morrell looked to Deaton with curiosity. “Allan do you think that perhaps Stiles might be?—“

“I think we should hurry up and finish making the potion, the full moon should be setting in a few.”  

Morrell sighed and picked up some cut up ingredients and headed back to the cauldron. Stiles watched both of them carefully. It was obvious they were hiding something important from him but he didn’t know what was. Stiles resumed grounding the dittany petals, smirking as he thought, he was going to find out what.

 

|~~***~~|

 

When the moon finally set, the three woke up with a groan. Derek rolled onto his side, lifting himself up and turned to Scott to make sure he was ok. The younger teen had acted the same as the last full moon and while Derek was able to hold off on wanting to attack Scott this time, he sort of wished he still had. At least, most of his mind would have been muddled with anger instead of pity and sadness and that was all he felt watching Scott. Scott was like a madman as he yanked at his hair, pulled at his skin, and growled at him and Cora. It was gut-wrenching and Derek wished he could help just like Stiles had asked him to but he couldn’t. He leaned his head against the wall and listened to the far footsteps coming down the tunnel.

He saw Stiles emerge first and like expected Stiles glared at him for a long moment before walking to Scott. Derek understood Stiles’ anger. But Derek was angry too. Stiles was treating him like an invalid now and that felt worse—much worse than Stiles telling him that he let people burn. And that line struck a strong cord within Derek even though Stiles did not comprehend the weight of his words. No one knew what he had done except Laura and he wanted it to stay that way.

“Ugh, why did he have to come again,” Cora groaned as she slowly woke up. “No offense Stiles, but after a full moon ordeal you are the last thing I want to smell when I wake up.” She was torn between clutching her head and covering her nostrils.

“Same,” Derek said absentmindedly, sitting up. He held no qualms of covering his nostrils.

Deaton looked at the two Hales with curiosity and kneeled by Derek as he spoke to Cora. “Cora, is the smell repugnant or what about it makes you not like it?”

“Thanks, Deaton,” Stiles muttered loudly. Derek could hear Scott chuckle slightly through a hoarse throat.

Cora thought for a long moment as Morrell helped her to her feet. “It’s a scent that I feel like I want to avoid.” She finally said. “But I can’t remember him smelling like this before third year.

Deaton looked at her. “Really? Interesting. We’ll lets go back to the castle and get you three checked out.”

They snuck the three werewolves back into the Deaton’s office and headed into one of his side rooms where all three of them sat on three empty beds. Scott was checked first. Everything in his body was healing properly and any residual effects of the full moon were fading fast.

He then moved onto Cora. Derek watched Stiles climb onto Scott’s bed. “The Hufflepuff versus Ravenclaw game is in a few days.” Stiles said.

“Who do you think is going to win?” Scott asked.

“Who knows, Hufflepuff has great chasers but the Ravenclaw team has a great defensive team.”

“I’m gonna go for Hufflepuff. They got second place at last year’s Quidditch Cup and they only have one new player this year.” Scott stated.

“Yeah and the fact they don’t have any cheaters.”

“I didn’t cheat!” Scott groaned. From the exasperation, Derek assumed they had had that conversation a multitude of times.

“At least the Slytherin team doesn’t have to worry about a werewolf on the Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw team when we play against them.” Stiles stated.

“Which brings up, why don’t you play for the Quidditch team Derek? Your sister does.” Scott asked.

Derek saw the glare that Stiles sent Scott for bringing him into the conversation. And then Derek proceeded to send a glare in his sister’s direction when she laughed aloud.

“Don’t you dare,” Derek hissed.

Cora laughed even harder and looked to Scott. “Derek’s scared of flying. Last time he was on a broom was when he was like nine. He flew too high and got stuck in the chimney. It took both our parents, Uncle Peter, and Deaton to get him out.”

Everyone laughed at Derek and Derek held the flush spreading across his face. Stiles laughed the hardest but quieted down when Derek shot him a glare. If Stiles wanted him to be the bad guy then he would be. He then focused his attention on Deaton as Stiles began arguing again with Scott about how using werewolf powers was cheating.

“Have you heard from Laura?” Derek asked hoping for the worst.

“No,” Deaton said sadly. “I’m not allowed to approach an Alpha unless they wish it. Your sister hasn’t spoken to me since she graduated from Hogwarts.”

“Oh.”

“Why do you ask?”

“She hasn’t been replying to any of Cora or my letters for a few weeks now.”

“Have you talked to Peter about this?”

Derek looked to Cora. “We avoid talking to our uncle as much as possible. You should know he’s not the most appropriate person to be social with.” Cora answered.

“Yeah, but I still I sent him a letter though and he’s not responding either.”

“I can try visiting your sister next week.” Morell answered. “She’ll be more inclined to talk to me than my brother if she tries to send us away.”

“Thank you.”

Derek then let Deaton check him over and as he did, he noticed that both Scott and Stiles were staring at him confusion and worry. He avoided their looks and turned to Deaton instead. He didn’t want their pity especially not from Stiles.

 

|~~***~~|

 

It was around the beginning of December and Scott had felt much better after the full moon had passed. There was no strange weight on his shoulders and little Mr. Howl-y paced excitedly around his mind as he took in the new winter scents. Pumpkin spices filled the air, the frosty scent of fresh pine, and most of all he just felt overall free. He leaned against the pillar where both he and Stiles were sitting in the transfiguration courtyard. Both their legs were through the openings and they were just basking in the late afternoon.

Although, Scott noticed that Stiles seemed to be acting odd these past few months. He was quieter and calmer, which was never a good sign for Stiles if nearly four years of friendship proved to Scott of Stiles normal behavior. He tried to engage the other boy in conversation but he would merely reply in a few words. After a few moments of bagging on Stiles’ favorite Quidditch team without any remarks, Scott sat up straight and gave his friend his best serious look.

“Hey, are you ok?”

Stiles turned to him with a half-hearted smile.

“Yeah. Why?”

Scott shrugged noncommittally. “You haven’t really been talking much and I don’t think I’ve heard you talk about Lydia in the past twenty-four hours, what’s up?”

Stiles sighed deeply and leaned slightly forward. “I don’t know. I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately.”

“About what?”

“Your whole situation.”

“Stiles that’s not your problem-“

“Don’t say that. It is. You’re my best friend and I already told you I’m going to help you get through this.” Stiles scolded. He rubbed a hand over his head and gave Scott a solemn look. “Do you think the reason you can’t control your werewolf side is because of me?”

“What? Why would you say that?”

“Well the other two werewolves in Hogwarts say I smell funky and they can’t stand the smell. What if I’m affecting you differently because you are a bitten werewolf. What if being around you is actually hurting you?”

“Stiles, I don’t understand how you came to that conclusion. You do smell a little weird to me but mostly you smell like pack so I’m guessing that smell overrides what Cora and Derek smell. You’re fine. You are helping. I mean the only time I feel like myself and Mr. Howl-y feels controlled is around you.”

Stiles sighed again. “Deaton and Morrell kind of said it.”

“Said that you are hurting me?”

“They implied it. At least I think they did. Deaton asked about my mother and I sort of think it has something to do with her and then Morrell was about to say what I was but Deaton cut her off. I just can’t really figure out what. I know she worked in the Beast Division in the Ministry of Magic before her problems started and I know for a fact she dealt with a few cases of werewolves. Maybe that’s why she had this pendant! Maybe? Fucking Merlin I don’t even know! I just feel like figuring out why I smell weird will help you.”

Scott leaned forward and embraced Stiles. “We’ll figure it out. Promise.” Stiles remained silent and Scott nudged him to get life back into his friend. “Let’s go get some pumpkin pasties from the Great Hall.”

Stiles nodded and with a more sincere smile. “All right. We’ll go get your pumpkin pasties.”

 

|~~***~~|

 

Further along the week, Scott and Stiles were both listening to Professor Blake in Transfiguration. Scott was struggling to take down the quick notes that Professor Blake was jotting on the board with the flick of her wand and Scott hoped that Stiles’ notes were better so he could copy them later. After the first half hour of class was over Professor Blake demonstrated the theory she presented on the board in practice. She pulled a guinea fowl from the cage she had in the small post in the back and set the bird on her desk. She twirled her wand and muttered the incantation and her bird turned into a small guinea pig.

Professor Blake instructed the class to each grab a guinea fowl carefully and they had half an hour to attempt to make it into a guinea pig.

Scott knew the moment he set the guinea fowl on his desk this was going to be difficult. He did not know how long had passed but his guinea fowl kept staring at him refusing to change. He huffed and turned to Stiles sitting next to him. He saw him playing with his guinea pig back and forth absentmindedly. Scott furrowed his brows as Stiles scent hit him. _Pack sad._ Mr. Howl-y informed him.  

He was about to place a hand on his shoulder but heard a loud huff behind him. He turned around and saw Cora struggling with her guinea pig. She had turned the bird into the appropriate animal but her guinea pig had feathers instead of fur. He heard her growl slightly under her breath and the guinea pig panicked not knowing where to hide. Somehow though the small fright made the guinea pig transfigure fully and a perfect brown guinea pig sat on Cora’s desk. She smiled in satisfaction and turned to Scott, where immediately her eyes went to Stiles.

“What’s up with him?” She whispered.

Scott leaned back in his stool. “It’s complicated.”

“Whatever it is fix it. Stiles smells worse than usual when he’s depressed.”

Scott turned fully on the bench and placed his arms on Cora’s desk. “See it’s exactly that. His scent. Stiles thinks thats the reason why I can’t control myself is cause of him.”

“That’s stupid.” Cora remarked.

“I know.”

“So what are you going to do?”

Scott bit his lip as he thought and then suddenly he was hit with an idea.

 

|~~***~~|

 

“A prank?” Cora asked as she walked to lunch with both Scott and Stiles to the Great Hall. She couldn’t believe the simplicity of Stiles’ down trodden demeanor to be cured in such a way. “That’s your idea seriously?” And yet, it made perfect sense.

“Yes!” Scott cheered. He turned to Stiles with a broad grin. “Think about it, When was the last time you made a prank?”

Stiles answered quickly. “Last week. I got Matt’s camera and charmed it to take pictures with glitter and hearts in the background.”

Scott groaned. “No! I mean a prank prank. One that involves the whole school?”

Cora watched Stiles carefully. She noticed his scent change from sadness to intrigue quickly, but even without her sense of smell she could see it in Stiles’ vibrant golden eyes.

“Not since Mr. Howl-y came into fruition.” Stiles answered.

Mr. Howl-y? Cora was scared to ask, so she let the name slide.

“Exactly! You need to get back into the pranking business before you get rusty!” Scott declared once they reached the Great Hall.

Cora separated from the two briefly to go on the opposite side of the Gryffindor table, all still listening to their conversation. All three of them sat together and began to pile their plates with food.

“Ok, yeah, I’ll do it…” Still said, getting a mischievous glint in his eyes. “What should I do? It has to be big that’s for sure, something everyone will remember.”

“We can do it on the last dinner before the holiday break.” Scott said.

“Yeah that gives us about a week to figure out what we are going to do and two weeks to prepare.”

Cora shook her head. “You do realize my brother is a prefect and I can just rat both of you out.”

Scott grinned. “You wouldn’t.”

“I’m pretty sure I would. It’s always amusing to see you two get detention. It really never gets old.”

“You wouldn’t,” Stiles said. “Because you are going to help.”

“Why the hell would I help?”

“Because I’m pretty sure anyone involved in a Stilinksi prank is revered as a spectacular witch or wizard by the staff of Hogwarts since my pranks are always elaborate and require spectacular spell work.”

“Tempting…” Cora said sarcastically. Although secretly she was intrigued.

“And you get to say, ‘I took part in humiliating Jackson in front of the whole school.”

Cora smirked. “All right, I’m in. When do we start?”

“After classes are over we’ll go to the library and figure out we can do.”

“Seriously? The Library? The self-proclaimed best prankster goes to the library to get his pranks?”

“Yeah! It comes with great ideas! That’s where my second year prank came from.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me! Those dirigible plums messed with my scent the whole day.”

“Sorry about that.” Stiles said with a grin.

“You should know that Stiles does not really mean that.” Scott informed.

“Noted. Remind me to get him back.”

“Will do.” Scott smiled.

“Hey!” Stiles cried.

Neither paid him attention and began to talk about classes when Professor Finstock passed by them and gave them an incriminating stare. Cora chuckled lightly when Professor Finstock was out of earshot and watched carefully as Scott and Stiles began to animatedly plan on what they should do. It was interesting to see. Scott couldn’t stop smiling and Stiles couldn’t stop moving his entire body. The two were most definitely not the type of people she liked hanging out with. They were too much of huge dolts and were too hyper, but there was something that was drawing Cora quickly to them and she didn’t know what it was. And when they included her in the conversation with such ease, Cora found herself replying just as easily. She missed this. The easy camaraderie that she hadn’t felt since the fire. But obviously, she wasn’t going to admit that aloud.

 

|~~***~~|

 

After becoming a werewolf, Scott began to enjoy the library less and less. The smell of old dried parchment tickled his nose, the scatter of preservation spells on the books made the hairs on his arms stand, and every small noise in the quiet library felt like a cannon shooting out in an empty field. It was much easier to block out noise when it was noisy, where most of the noise cancelled each other out. So it was easy to say that Scott was finding it difficult to concentrate finding a prank in the library.

He glanced at Cora and wondered if he should ask her how to control it. She was being a bigger help than Derek was. He placed the book down and turned out to the window. There was a trickle of steady snowfall that made him want to shed his clothes and run—and wasn’t that weird.

“Don’t worry.” Cora said grabbing another book. “It’s normal.”

“What is?” Stiles asked. He looked up from where he had been highlighting the entire page and Scott briefly wondered if he should be doing that to a book that didn’t belong to him and that was more than two hundred years old.

“Scott is feeling twitchy, it’s a bit annoying actually, it makes me want to punch you, but it’s normal.”

“What? How did you know?” Scott asked, leaning forward.

Cora put down her book on her lap. “You keep staring out the window with this longing look on your face, like you want to go out for a run. It’s normal. I get them too sometimes.”

“Oh…” Scott remarked.

“What do you mean for a run?” Stiles asked, putting the book aside to deal with the matter at hand. Scott always admired that Stiles was able to put stuff aside for him.

Meanwhile, Cora went back to her book, flipping through the pages. “Most werewolves run in the woods with their pack. It’s an instinct that werewolves use to bond.”

“So what? You run together and howl at the moon?” Stiles laughed.

Cora gave him a dead serious look. “Yeah.”

“Oh…well maybe we’ll go out for a run, Scott, during the break.”

Cora laughed sarcastically. “You won’t be able to keep up with a running werewolf. We probably run three times faster than the average human. You’ll make a fool of yourself. Not that you don’t do that already.”

“Never mind then.” Stiles said, picking up another book. “Goblin Trades and Racial Relations with Giants. Dear Salazar on toast does that sound boring. Next.” Stiles picked up another book. When that proved to have the same boring effect, he looked to the others. “What have you got so far, Cora?”

“Nothing. I don’t understand how I’m supposed to look for a prank in a book.”

“You just don’t have the pranking gene.” Stiles sighed, “What about you Scott?”

“Nothing in these books seem remotely prank-ish and if they do they would have us expelled.”

“Yeah. I think the librarian is hiding the good books from us after we accidentally set that small fire by the charms section.”

Scott bit his lip thinking and then replied. “Or was when she caught us sneaking into the Restricted Section?”

“No, but it could have been when we made all the books savage.”

“Are you sure? I got it its when we spilled invisible ink on the file cards.”

“Well while you two figure that out. I’m leaving. “ Cora announced.

“Leaving? Where?” Scott asked.

“Outside, duh. It’s a snow day.”

Scott followed to her pointing outside and he saw a few first years making a snowman. And there a light bulb shined above his head.

“Wait, I think I thought of our prank!” Scott shouted as loud as he could without alerting the librarian.

“What?” Stiles and Cora said in tandem.

“Frosty. The Freaking Snowman.”

Cora grinned and sat back down. “And what have Frosty the Snowman cart off with Jackson into icy bliss?”

“Even better!” Scott laughed.

“Wait.” Stiles interrupted. “I’m lost. What the hell is a Frosty the Snowman?”

“Seriously?” Cora asked.

“I don’t know muggle references, gosh hex me why don’t you. Wait why do you?”

Cora shrugged. “My family is—wasn’t all werewolves and wizards. We had squibs, squibs who were werewolves, plain wizards. We were mixed bunch. So we were exposed to as much wizard stuff as muggle stuff and Frosty the Snowman was one of them.”

“What is it?”

Scott answered. “He’s a cartoon, remember those shows on television that you wouldn’t stop watching during the break of our first year? He’s a snowman that children make and put a magical hat on him and he comes to life and then he sings and dances.”

“That’s brilliant!”

“Exactly.”

“So what?” Cora asked. “We’ll have a snowman come into the Great Hall and just sing? How is that a prank?”

“I was thinking a multitude of them.” Scott answered.

“What else happens in the movie?” Stiles urged.

“The kids form a conga line with him and try to get him to safety before he melts.” Scott said.

“Ok, I can work with that. We’re gonna need a lot of spell work. Something to slush the entire student body.”

“Uh no.” Cora interrupted.

“What?”

“I’m sorry, but if I got a face full of snow slush I would shove my wand down your throat.”

“Then what do you suggest?”

“Well we can make the snowmen melt, but not on people. What if they melted and I don’t know there was a surprise inside?”

“Fine. We will put that into the prank. This is going to take a lot of work though. More than the other pranks and we are going to need a secluded place to practice without getting into trouble.”

“Shrieking Shack?” Scott asked.

“Not one of the most sanitary places Scott, especially if we are going to work with snow.”

“I think I can find an empty classroom.” Cora said.

“Awesome!” Stiles cheered. “This is going to be the best prank ever!”

 

|~~***~~|

 

Cora felt terrible. Last night, Scott, Stiles, and she had stayed up late finding the perfect spells and now she was paying the price. All three of them had Transfiguration with Professor Blake first thing in the morning and were expected to turn in a foot and a half essay.

“Stiles, what did you write?” Cora asked.

“What?” Stiles grumbled through a mouthful of eggs. Cora made a disgusted face and watched him swallow everything in one bite with a drink of orange juice. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m not turning in the essay. My grade is high enough that it won’t really affect me.”

Cora shook her head. “I hate you.” She went back to the essay, scribbling random nonsense.

“Noted. Did you finish your essay Scott?”

Scott chewed obscenely much like Stiles, and Cora briefly wondered how she was sitting with these two idiots. “I kind of gave up on it. It’s a few inches short but better than nothing.”

“I hate you both.” Cora groaned. She was about to really consider fracturing her pride by asking Stiles for help, but a certain screech distracted her briefly. She looked to the ceiling and waited for the owls. She was always able to hear them a few minutes before they arrived and she hoped that her family owl was among the fray. She truly was worried that her sister had not replied. She assumed the worst. Her greatest fear was that the Wizengamot had discovered she was a werewolf and had executed her and were keeping it hush hush.

She looked over to the Hufflepuff table and looked at her brother who was looking at the ceiling, waiting too. She worried the most for her brother if Laura was gone. Derek looked up to their sister with as much adoration like he did with their parents. If Laura died, Derek might actually break, not that he wasn’t already broken...

Cora sighed deeply and saw the owls finally emerge. Many of them dropped letters and the Daily Prophet but not a single owl came toward her or her brother. She accepted nothing was coming today and turned to Derek. He gave her a simple look, that spoke so much fear that Cora had to turn away. She didn’t want to see her brother break again. Once was enough.

She went back to her essay but couldn’t help but look toward the two boys in front of her. She saw Stiles reach toward the owl by Scott and the owl nearly picked Stiles’ finger off, sending him falling off the bench and grumbling about man hungry owls.

“Oh shit!” Scott shouted as he grabbed the letter attached to Posey’s leg.

Cora saw Scott lift the red envelope hesitantly. “Is that?—” Cora asked.

Scott could only nod. Meanwhile, Stiles was dragging himself back onto the bench muttering this time about something about charming Posey into a tea cozy. “Oh fuck!” Stiles cried as he saw the envelope. “Dude, I’m so sorry!”

As soon as he said that, the envelope burst open and the voice of what Cora assumed to be Scott’s mother, vociferated through the Great Hall, stopping everyone’s ministrations.

“ _Scott Tyler McCall_! Melissa enunciated. “ _After coming home drenched at three in the morning in toxic troll boogers because a stupid nineteen year old decided to play with a troll, I arrive to a letter from your professor telling me you have been skipping Potions for more than a week. A week, Scott! While your mother is working the night shift at St. Mungos you have been cutting class. The next time you cut class or even think about not turning in an assignment you can forget about the muggle motorcycle you’ve been wanting when you’ve turned seventeen! This behavior is inexcusable and lazy! And I will not tolerate the childish behavior! If I get one more letter from any of your professors than you have been skipping or failing class I will not allow Stiles for the winter break!_ ”

“What? No Stiles?” Stiles retorted, stuttering.

“ _And Stiles!_ ” The envelope directed itself toward the golden eyed boy.

Stiles eeped loudly and stood up straight. “ _Don’t think you are out of this either! Your father is very displeased with you too! He got a letter from Professor Harris that you have been giving him attitude. He said you are getting a strict talking to when you get home!_ ”

The envelope turned back to Scott, “ _I mean it Scott, one more letter and you are going to wish you have never been born!_ ” And without further warning, the letter huffed and tore itself to shreds.

“Well that was something,” Cora said breaking the silence, which followed with the entire Great Hall laughing.

 

|~~***~~|

 

“Why do you know where the kitchens are at again?” Stiles asked, as all three of them stayed close to the shadows of the wall.

“My brother is a prefect. He knows where everything is at, plus we used to come here all the time my first year.” Cora answered.

“So why are we sneaking?” Scott asked.

“We aren’t really supposed to be here, according to Derek. It’s forbidden to all students.”

“Forbidden my ass. It’s right near the Hufflepuff dorms. I bet all of them come here with all their intoxicating nauseating goodness.”

Scott laughed. “Ew does that mean that Derek is riding on the back of a unicorn over a rainbow?”

It was Cora’s turn to laugh, but she cut it off abruptly and pushed both Scott and Stiles against the wall.

“Dude, what the hell?” Stiles said, but Cora clamped her hand over his mouth, shushing him.

Scott looked at her strangely and was about to ask her what was wrong but the voice in his head filled him in. _Footsteps. Other werewolf._

“Shit, Derek. He’s going to send us back if we get caught.”  Cora hissed in a very very soft whisper. Scott turned to Stiles whose eyes opened wide at that. “Ok both of you of you go down that corridor and make a sharp turn right. You’ll see a portrait of a bowl of fruit, tickle the pear and you should be in the kitchens. I’ll distract Derek.”

“Distract me from what?” All three of them jumped and made varying noises of surprise as Derek appeared behind them, with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Derek.” Cora said calmly

“Dear Merlin, do you make a habit of being a creep?” Stiles asked, as soon as Cora let him speak.

Derek snarled in Stiles’ direction and Stiles reared back, making sure that Scott was in front of him.

“What are you doing, Cora?” Derek asked.

“Nothing.” She said defensively, crossing her arms over her chest.

Derek raised an eyebrow and turned to Scott and Stiles. “If you two idiots are getting my sister in trouble you can bet I’m going to rip your throat out.”

Scott snarled at the threat.

Derek didn’t even bat an eyelash and turned to Cora. “So what are your three friends now?”

“Please. Me? Friends with these two?” Cora scoffed.

“I can tell you’re lying.” Derek stated.

“Really? How?” Scott asked. “Was it that weird stutter in her heart beat?”

Derek turned to Cora with a disbelieving stare. “Seriously why are you hanging out them?”

Cora sighed, “Someone needs to help Scott.” She finally said.

“What?” Derek was taken back.

“You are acting like Laura. You pretend to care about us and take on werewolf issues but you never do anything! Unlike you, I’m actually helping Scott. So you can screw yourself Derek.” Cora walked away and headed down the hallway. “Coming?”

Scott followed after Cora while he snarled at Derek.

Stiles followed after, “Cora owned your ass.”

Derek literally growled and Stiles flinched back with a startling eep. He ran chasing after the much nicer werewolves and stopped when they ran to portrait. He saw Cora tickle the pear and the portrait swung forward.

They stepped inside and the two boys were startled by the flurry of house elves.

“Ms. Hale! And you bring friends!” A nice elf came forward.

“Hello Tilly. Uh yeah this is Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski. ” Cora smiled genuinely.

“Where is Mr. Hale?”

“He was being a naughty little werewolf so I sent him outside so he can think of what he just did.” Cora said.

“They know?” Scott asked.

“Yeah, they can sense it. Tilly do you think you can do us a big favor?”

“Of course Ms. Hale!”

“Good, well my friends and I were planning on giving a wondrous gift to the entire school, but we need a few supplies. Here’s the list. It would help us a lot if you were to help.” Cora said kindly.

“Yes! Yes! Tilly would love to help! I will tell the other elves!” Tilly shouted, and ran in the opposite direction.  

As Cora stood up straight, both Scott and Stiles gave her incredulous stare.

“What?” She said defensively.

“Nothing,” Scott said, holding back a smile. “We just thought sarcasm and bluntness were your only settings,” Scott grinned. “Not forgetting the fact that you lied to brother. You know what this means Stiles.”

“Why I think I do, Scott. With all the gathered evidence and the spectacular performance on one broody Mr. Eyebrows, The Grumpy Gryffindor werewolf, love us!”

Cora eyes flashed yellow. “Say that again and you’ll wake up pinned to the ceiling of the Slytherin dungeons naked.”

Both Stiles and Scott raised their hands in defense. “Besides this have we got all the other supplies?” Scott asked changing the subject.

Stiles stepped back as a house elf walked by carrying a teen foot stack of mugs. “We need to go to Honeydukes still.”

“That’s going to be expensive.” Scott remarked.

“It’s fine.” Cora assured. “I’ll pay.”

“I’ll chip in half.” Stiles stated. Cora nodded. Scott always seemed to forget that Stiles family was quite wealthy. “Plus, I was thinking of getting a separate batch for Erica. She likes blood pops more than chocolate.”

“Whose Erica?” Cora asked.

“Erica Reyes. Twitchy little Hufflepuff girl in our year.”

“Oh. I didn’t even know you talked to her.” Cora said.

“I do,” Stiles said defensively. “I talk to her in Herbology. She’s really good at it. Plus, she was the one who helped with the second year prank.”

“Really?”

“Yup.”

Cora shrugged and turned to Tilly as he returned. “Here are all the stuff you need. The basket with the food has a preservation charm, enough time for your gifts.” Tilly said as he had two large woven baskets floating behind him. Scott and Stiles took out their wands and levitated the baskets taking them off Tilly.

“Thank you, Tilly!” Cora smiled. “And for your trouble,” She pulled from her robes a rather large bottle of butterbeer, “Don’t go all crazy like last time though.”

“We won’t Ms. Hale and thank you!”

The three left the kitchens and neither questioned Derek’s absence. “What was that about?” Stiles asked.

“The house elves like throwing parties and they get drunk off butterbeer. Derek and I usually bring them some once a month.”

“Oh, cool, condoning illicit behavior on innocent elves.”

“I practically live for it.” Cora rolled her eyes. She hid her smile when the two boys beamed at her and as they walked to the Gryffindor Tower, Cora answered Derek’s question truthfully. _Yes, Derek they are my friends._

 

|~~***~~|

 

Stiles found himself in an empty classroom on a Saturday afternoon with Scott and Cora. All three of them had gotten all the supplies ready and had them hidden under the stairs of the Astronomy Tower while they practiced spells in an empty classroom Cora had found.

“Ok so I found a spell that will conjure snow from outside into the Great Hall. It’s a bit complicated and we need to be careful we don’t bring any animals into the Hall or that can screw up the entire prank. We don’t want any snowy blast ended skrewts falling from the ceiling. Which reminds me we need to get our own brooms when we put the spell on the Great Hall, we need to put the spell on the ceiling for it to work properly.”

“Ok so how do we do it?” Scott asked who was sitting backwards on one of the chairs in the classroom.

Stiles jumped off the desk he was sitting on and cast the spell in the middle of the room. From the tip of his wand, snow appeared and began to appear on the ground. “There should be a now empty spot of snow somewhere on the grounds. I marked a spell already on where the snow is pulled from so when we do the spell we get it from behind the Quidditch pitch stands. It’s best we don’t conjure the spell from nothing ourselves because we are going to mix this with other magic and food and mixing magic on magic never works well. So I need you two to cast the spell on a bigger scale but I can set a timer on it so when we walk into the Great Hall, the snow will begin falling from there.”

Cora looked at Stiles’ hand. “Wait, do the wand movement again. That was complicated.”

“It should be,” Stiles remarked. “I stole a book from a seventh year. That’s NEWT transfigurations right there.” He did the spell again and another trickle of snow fell in the middle of the classroom.

“Ugh,” Scott groaned. “Stiles please do a step by step.”

“Oh sorry,” Stiles said and motioned his wand to explain. “It’s the circular flick that’s the hard part.”

“I still think it’s unfair that you are good at Transfiguration. I’m pretty sure Professor Blake hates you for that.” Scott said.

“Really? I think she’s finally starting to warm up. For last week’s detention, she only made me clean all the boards on the third floor. That’s an improvement from doing two floors!” Stiles said proudly, as he continued to do the wand movement in slow motion.

“Wait? You got detention for what?” Scott exclaimed. “And why wasn’t I involved?”

Stiles shrugged, “It was a spur of the moment thing. She caught me making Derek’s robes three sizes too small.” He said with a proud grin.

“That was you?!” Cora laughed loudly, clutching her stomach. “Oh my god, I couldn’t stop laughing when I saw him. He had to go to Morrell to reverse the spell!”

Scott laughed too. “Wait. I thought you weren’t going to prank the Hales. What was this for?” Scott asked.

Stiles shrugged. “Like I said, it was a spur of the moment thing. His face just rubbed me the wrong way.”

Scott gave him a knowing look and turned to Cora. Stiles panicked and mouthed. Dude no. Stiles didn’t want Cora to know that he pranked her brother for her. He just felt bad for her. Her family was gone and the only remaining ones she had included a douche brother. Stiles wouldn’t know what to do if his father was emotionless and uncommunicative as Derek. He thanked Merlin that his father was the best thing in his life.

“Stiles you smell weird—weirder what’s going on.” Cora commented.

“Nothing.” Stiles said. “You try the spell now.”

Cora took a deep breath and outstretched her wand arm, but before she could utter the spell, the door to the classroom opened and two giggling teenagers emerged. Stiles felt his heart speed and then halt. He did not expect to see that. He had expected a Professor not Aiden Twine with Lydia Martin. And—were they holding hands?

“Oh,” Lydia smirked. “Sorry for interrupting your ménage trois, we’ll find another room.” Lydia giggled. “Come on Aiden.” Lydia closed the door and scampered off with Aiden to Merlin knows where.

“What is she doing?!” Stiles shouted. “What the hell?! What the hell?!” Stiles screeched and marched toward the door.

“Oh shit.” Scott shouted. He got up quickly and with werewolf speed, tackled Stiles before he could reach the door. He grasped Stiles’ wand and threw it at Cora. “You are not going to kill Aiden.”

“He’s defiling my beautiful Lydia.”

“You cannot kill him.”

“Ew, I cannot believe Martin was insinuating—“ Cora said trying to change the subject.

“Scott, let me go!” Stiles screeched, trying to break free.

“Promise me, you aren’t going to kill Aiden.”

“Can’t make any promises, Scott. We share a room, it’s bound to happen sooner or later mostly like sooner.”

“Stiles!”

“He’s with Lydia.”

“Lydia is perfectly entitled to be with who she wants to be with.” Scott remarked.

“But.”

“Lydia is entitled to be with whoever she wants to be with. Repeat after me, Stiles.”

“She’s entitled to be with whoever she wants to be.” Stiles grumbled.

“Good. Now on a scale one to ten how homicidal are you?”

“Ten.”

“Stiles.”

“Fine. I won’t kill Aiden.”

“Good.” Scott slowly stood up and lifted Stiles to his feet.

“Doesn’t mean I’m not going to do something about it.” Stiles stated, fixing his robes. “Cora, my wand.”

“I’m not entirely sure that’s safe.”

“Cora.”

“I’m all up to attack a Slytherin, but I don’t want to be an accomplice to a murder.”

“ ** _Cora Hale, give me my wand!_** ” Stiles vociferated, loudly. Cora eyes glazed over strangely and she seemed to stand straighter. She walked forward and gave Stiles his wand. When she handed it over, Stiles noticed Cora reel back in confusion but he did not have the time to ponder it as he was already out the door.

He made his way down the stairs, heading toward the dungeons. He spat the password for the portrait and made his way toward the dormitories. He was glad when he saw that Jackson was there. He was seated on his bed, reading Quidditch Weekly while Danny was taking a nap.

“Jackson!” Stiles shouted, jumping onto Jackson’s bed.

Jackson did not look away from his magazine. “You have three seconds to get off my bed before I bat bogey hex you.”

“This is serious!”

“Three. Two.”

“Lydia is dating Aiden.”

Jackson slammed his magazine on his lap. “What?!” Jackson screeched, waking Danny with a start.

“Lydia is dating Aiden. I saw them holding hands and looking for a classroom together.”

“She what?!” Jackson shouted again, while Danny groaned and rolled over. “I’m going to kill Aiden!” Jackson threw the magazine in some unknown area and stood up. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know. Scott stopped me from hunting him down.”

Grumbling into his pillow, Danny spoke, “Lydia is entitled to be with whoever she wants to be with.”

Jackson huffed. “Lydia would kill me, if I interrupted them.” Jackson ignored his friend.

“So what? We wait for Aiden?”

“Sure. He has to come down here sometime.”

Sometime came quickly much to Stiles and Jackson’s pleasure. The minute Aiden came into the room with a smug grin on his face, Jackson and Stiles had both cast a spell at Aiden, pinning him to the door.

“What the fuck!” Aiden shouted.

“Why are you with Lydia!” Jackson seethed.

“You weren’t making a move so I figured it was ok to do so.” Aiden smirked.

“What? No break up with her!” Stiles said.

“No…She’s an amazing kisser, Jackson, I don’t know why you haven’t hooked up with her yet. And I swear if you harm me, I will tell Blake.”

Both Jackson and Stiles ended their spells and Aiden walked to his bed. “You should see what she does with her tongue.”

The next day nobody questioned why Aiden was walking around with glow in the dark pink hair and bats shoved in his ears.

 

|~~***~~|

 

It was the night before  the prank and Stiles, Scott, and Cora had snuck down into the Great Hall to begin preparations for it.

“I think we should cast this over the professors! Can you imagine Harris’ face!” Stiles shouted.

“Shut it, you idiot!” Cora hissed. “Do you want one of the ghosts to report us!”

Stiles made a face but stuck close to her. They quickly realized that Cora and Scott were the best for sneaking around because of their werewolf abilities, so they figured if Stiles was close to either of them they wouldn’t get caught.  It also helped though that Stiles had cast invisibility charms on all of them, but those certain charms had their limits. Stiles had not had enough time to master it, and therefore all three of them were just camouflaged, so if anyone bothered to look close enough they would see them. The only people they had to be worry of running into were Deaton, Morrell, and Finstock. They were the only wizards in the school who could look past invisibility charms.

They snuck past all the floors and pushed open slightly the doors to the Great Hall. When everyone was inside they shut them again and removed the invisibility charms. Stiles stepped forward with the familiar golden reckless gleam in his eyes that would only appear in prank mode.

“All right!” Stiles cheered and turned to the other two. “Let us set up the snow spell on the ceiling first. After that, Cora you are in charge of construction, Scott mobility, and I’m in charge of voice over and melting. And then all of us will do the transfiguration spell to hide the chocolate. Did you bring the supplies, Cora?”

Cora nodded and from the bag she was carrying she pulled out seven small baskets that fit in the palm of her hand. Each basket contained all the supplies they would need. Cora set them on the ground and cast a spell to bring the baskets to the original size.

Scott went over to the broom basket and pulled out their brooms. He threw them at his friends. “Ok, so we have about five hours before someone catches us. C’mon.”

All of them set the charm on the ceiling to bring the snow inside the Great Hall. Each time Scott or Cora were done with a section of the ceiling, Stiles would fly over and set the timer spell.

It took most of the night to finish all the spells, that it was just after five o’clock in the morning when they finally collapsed on top of the tables. Stiles felt sick and shaky from so much spell-casting and the other two looked pale and sweaty. Plus, there was a distinct odor of chocolate in the air that was making them sleepy.

“All done?” Scott asked, grinning in spite of his exhaustion. Cora and Stiles made half attempts at nodding. “Ok, let’s head to bed. “

The three dragged themselves off the tables and walked back to the Gryffindor tower, still mindful of not getting caught. When they got closer to the portrait hole, Stiles took off running and muttered the password. He was ready to crash on Scott’s bed and sleep for a year. But when he made it through the portrait hole first, he came face to face with Professor Finstock, who was eyeing him with suspicion. It was then that Stiles forgot to reapply the invisibility charms. Stiles only hoped that Scott and Cora could hear him and were lurking in the shadows outside.

“Sitilinksi beside the fact that it’s way past curfew. And even though I’m afraid to ask, why do you know the Gryffindor password?” Finstock asked.

Stiles chuckled awkwardly. “Ah well you see,” Stiles muttered. “The question is why do you?”

“I’m Head of this House.”

“Yeah…you are..buddy.” Stiles chuckled, shoving Finstock playfully. He heard a creak coming from the stairs and saw that Cora and Scott had somehow cast the invisibility charms on themselves and were trying to sneak away, while leaving their friend in the line of fire. The fucking bastards. Finstock turned around suspiciously over his shoulder, but when he saw no one was there he turned back to Stiles.

“Why are you here Stiles?”  Finstock asked.

“I like to uh…well you see..I like to visit Scott at night.”

Finstock reared back. “Oh! Oh, right! You were…wow…I didn’t know you two…I see it now..but...you know…you two make a great pair.”

“Yeah,” Stiles agreed hastily. “Um I’ll be going up to his room now.”

“Of course,” Finstock stepped away. “Uh…be safe?”

“Will do Professor.”  Stiles grinned cheekily and without waiting ran up the stairs to Scott’s room. He opened the door and marched over to Scott’s bed. He pulled the curtains open and cast a silencing charm.

“I hate you.” Stiles deadpanned.

Scott was too busy laughing into his pillow to hear. Stiles nudged him harshly and still when Scott didn’t let up, Stiles climbed on top of him and proceeded to wrestle with him. Except it wasn’t much of a fight, all Scott had to do was lift one arm and he had Stiles pinned under him—and still Scott proceeded to laugh.

“Oh my god, you should have seen your face when you saw Finstock!” Scott wheezed. “Thank Merlin, Cora remembered how you did the spell!”

“Hey!” Stiles shouted.  “Screw you, letting me take the blow. Now Finstock thinks I come in here every night to enthrall you.”

“What?!” Scott stopped laughing, and became serious in an instant.

“Yeah, Finstock thinks we do mermaid swim, the hippogriff jaunt, the broomstick up your ass!”

“What?!” Scott shouted, and he proceeded to laugh again. “Oh man, I love Finstock.”

“Dude, he thinks we are gay for each other.”

Scott finally settled beside Stiles. “It doesn’t really bother me since I know it’s not true. I’m straight and you are my best friend, why should it bother me? Wait does it bother you?”

Stiles thought about it and shrugged.

Scott turned toward him. “Is there something you want to tell me?” All serious present in the air.

Stiles pursed his lips as he looked at the ceiling. “I don’t know.”

“You sure, you know I would be cool with it right.”

“Whatever. You owe me three boxes of licorice wands.”

“Ok. Well let’s get some sleep. Prank tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” Stiles agreed and both of them pulled the blankets from under them. They shuffled awkwardly on the bed. “We are getting way too big for this.” Stiles stated.

“Agreed. Move your knee out of my ribcage.”

“Take your elbow out from my nose.”

They took a few more minutes to settle in but when they did, it only took another five minutes for Scott to knock out. Stiles on the other hand was still pondering what Finstock had said. Why did it bother him? Stiles wanted to linger on it, but after a moment he decided that was a problem for another day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I see you guys haven't been reviewing as often but I still have been getting a bunch of hits, kudos, and bookmarks which are just as awesome but I would really like some feedback on my story please! I want to know how you like where I'm taking the story or what you don't like about it or what I can add. Please and thank you. 
> 
> On another note, didn't expect to upload this soon but saw the promo for Teen Wolf which got me super pumped!


	11. Don't be so Frosty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All seems well after the prank, until the Hales return home.

The excitement made a full-fledged appearance again the next morning, and Stiles felt as though he might pop with it. He was forced to sit quietly through the day’s lessons, something his professors found extremely odd, but who were they to look inside the mouth of a gift horse. By the time dinner, finally rolled around, everyone eyed Stiles suspiciously. He was known to make a huge prank every year, and word somehow must have gotten out about him doing one today.

When Cora, Scott, and Stiles sat at the Gryffindor table they gave each other grins and commenced to grab food very slowly.

After a few minutes, there were a few gasps as students began to realize the enchanted ceiling began to drop real snow.

“Scott what the hell!” Bennett shouted as the snow began to fall harder.

“Oh fuck!” Ethan shouted, grabbing and an empty plate and placing it over his head. He turned to Scott and Stiles. “What did you guys do?”

Cora began laughing and everyone turned an unbelieving stare in her direction. The multitude of looks caused her to laugh harder.

Stiles smiled proudly at her before looking to the Gryffindors. “Don’t run away yet guys. Believe me—it will be worse if you run.”

Everyone around the Gryffindor table went silent. “Why what’s going on?” Ethan asked.

And then thats when the prank truly commenced. The table lurched and heaved like a dying moose and all the platters of food slid to the edges of the table to topple off. Stiles found himself laughing in glee as wind and snow from nowhere began to pick up inside the Great Hall. Several girls hollered as their hair tangled with the wind.

An entire blizzard shook the Hall and Stiles stood on the Gryffindor table while Cora and Scott held on with werewolf strength so he wouldn’t be blown away. “Alright everyone get ready to crawl down. This is about to get much worse.”

“What?” The Gryffindor table shouted in disbelief.

Stiles climbed down the table. He stepped back as the table began to warp and turn into a giant igloo. Several openings were made alongside the igloo and the Gryffindor students scrambled inside. The rest of Hogwarts used to Stiles’ and Scott’s prank learned to follow their lead whenever anything happened, so all of them ducked inside the igloo their own House table had turned into.

Everyone was crouched and had their knees pulled to their chests as the igloo wasn’t that big to accommodate that many students. But even through the discomfort students were giggling wondering what was going to happen next.

A crunch that sounded like broken ice sounded outside their igloo. The students’ excited chatter became interrupted by an enraged shout from the staff table. Every student tried to peek from the openings of the igloo to see what was happening. The three pranksters grinned as another part of their plan fell into place. The staff table became a solid block of ice that began to expand further and further until the ice took shape in bars. Until finally, the staff of Hogwarts was in an icy prison.

Scott, Stiles, and Cora had taken a risk to do this, but their game wouldn’t be fun if the staff could interfere.

“Whoever has done this prank,” Deaton said, his voice magnified but unruffled, “Should be aware that we can escape-” HIs voice was cut as the Great Hall itself made a lurching noise. The main doors slammed shut with a massive crash and more snow began to fall from the ceiling almost like a flood. All the students screamed and ducked back inside the igloo, the only place the snow did not seem to have an effect on was at the staff table where they remained untouched by the blizzard.

When the blizzard stopped, all the igloo openings had caved in from the snow, encasing the students in darkness. Several of the younger students began to whimper in fear so the older students cast lumos spells to light the cramped igloo.

Stiles had lit his own and had Cora shout to get their attention. “From here we are going to have to dig ourselves out!”

“Dig?” Ethan asked.

Stiles grinned with his Cornish Pixie smile. “ _Incendio!_ ” A flame erupted from his wand and all the other students got the idea. The Gryffindors began to melt the snow at the openings. From fear the igloo would cave on them Stiles had them melt the snow out a few feet and then up to crawl outside.

When they stepped outside, the students saw that the snow had piled heavily in the Great Hall. It was a near six feet of snow. Icicles drooped from the ceiling and on the walls, the pine trees that were brought in for the holiday season touched the ceiling with their completely white branches. The Great Hall floor was encased with snow and where the aisles used to be were replaced with strips of slippery ice and random hills of snow patched the ground. It was overall a kid’s snowday dream especially with the random thirty snowmen scattered around the Great Hall.

Stiles beamed as he took in a job well done. It was better than expected and he was pleased how Cora had made the snowmen. They looked nearly identical to the ones she had shown him of Frosty the Snowman except these were nearly seven feet tall.

The pranksters turned to the professors who were still in their ice cage. All of them looked furious but reluctantly impressed. However, all of them were following Deaton’s lead as Deaton sat casually in his seat.

Stiles counted the seconds and right on time a single giant grey hat with a flower began to fall from the ceiling. The hat flew around the students heads until lastly falling onto a snowman’s head that was in the middle of all the disarray. When the hat hit his head, everyone shrieked as the snowman began to move.

“Happy Birthday to me!” The snowman cried out in a very familiar voice, swinging his broom in hand. “I can’t believe I’m alive. How can this be? I can speak. I can jump!”

Ethan leaned close to the three pranksters. “Is that Harris’ voice?”

“Yup.” Stiles grinned. It had taken him nearly two weeks to record Harris’ voice with a wireless to get all the words they would need for the prank. It had been tedious and resulted in three detentions when Stiles tried to force the word ‘happy’ out of Harris.

“Oh freaking Merlin,” Ethan laughed.

Other students quickly began to realize who the snowman was mimicking and proceeded to fill the Hall with laughter. Harris on the other hand wasn’t so amused and began to shout at Deaton to stop this ridiculous prank, but Deaton let it continue.

“You know what it must be? It must be magic!” The snowman shouted. “It’s glorious everyone! We should celebrate with a game. Let’s play a game!”

“A game seriously?” A seventh year Slytherin sneered.

“Yes a game. You will need a combination of bravery, brains, cunning, and teamwork to be the last one standing in this utmost dangerous game. A game I like to call, freeze tag.” The snowman’s happy face contorted. His eyes made of coal heated, turning red and his smile turned malicious. Then without further ado, the snowman ran forward at the seventh year. The seventh year shrieked as the snowman touched him. The Slytherin literally froze in place at the contact, but after a few seconds he was able to move. But not on his volition. The Slytherin placed his hands on his hips and began to shake them with a melody that had sprung from nowhere. Much to the Slytherin’s horror, that wasn’t the worst. He opened his mouth without prompting and then began to sing obnoxiously loud.

_“Harris the snowman was a mean grumpy soul  
_ _With slimy hair and creeper lens  
_ _And a heart made out of coal”_

Every student’s eyes bulged out of their heads at the affect the snowman’s touch had. When the snowman turned his evil glare on the other students, the students began to run. But the snowman was quick. He caught two more Slytherins and they began to sing all in unison.

_“Harris the snowman is really smart they say  
_ _So don’t screw up in his potions class  
_ _Or he’ll for sure make you his prey”_

No one knew whether to laugh or cry at the sight, but no one wanted to be touched with that embarrassment so the only choice was to run. “It’s amazing to see such holiday spirit, right Scott?” Stiles said cheerfully, leaning against one of the walls. He watched the Slytherins scrambling like rats trying to run away from the snowman.

Scott grinned. “It’s beautiful. We have been lacking in it as of late don’t you think?”

Cora laughed but stopped abruptly as she saw the snowman heading toward them with the speed of a werewolf, she grabbed onto Scott and Stiles pulling them back. “Was the snowman meant to go this fast?” She questioned.

Scott rubbed the back of his neck. “I might have miscalculated the speed spell. A tad” He stated, all of them ducked down as the snowman came charging at them. The snowman jumped over their heads and touched Ethan and Bennett. Where the two began to sing and dance as well.

“No this is perfect. What’s freeze tag without a bit of a challenge. Battle stations c’mon!” Stiles shouted. Several students from different houses looked to Stiles and seemed to have gotten the message. Several of the older students pulled out their wands and began to prepare to battle the evil snowman.

Every house seemed to have worked out a system.

The Gryffindors including Stiles charged at the snowman with wands ablaze, shooting hexes and curses with reckless abandon. The snowman batted the spells away with his broom, as Stiles had designed the broom to repel most spells. As long as no one threw anything illegal, the snowman wasn’t going anywhere.

As the snowman batted the spells with his broom, he charged to a few Gryffindors. With just a gentle touch, the students froze for a few seconds and then joined in on the singing.  

_“Harris the snowman was vile as he could be_   
_But the Ravenclaws hear him laugh_   
_Saying he was just like you and me”_

One of the older Gryffindors thought he was good enough to get a good hex in the snowman’s face, but before he could throw the spell the snowman stopped moving. A harsh wind blew in the Great Hall causing the hat on the snowman to blow away and land on another snowman by the Hufflepuffs.

The Hufflepuffs had split in groups. One team built trenches, another team protected the people building the trenches, while another team fired at the approaching snowman. But due to Scott’s perfect mistake, the snowman was too quick. He jumped into the trenches and got most of those hiding inside. Those lucky enough to escape headed to the Ravenclaw side where Lydia Martin was commanding all of them.

The Ravenclaws had built fortress walls to keep the snowman out, but in their haste of building them they forgot they had also trapped a few snowmen inside. So when the snowman laid his eyes on the fortress, the magical hat flew into the air again. Cora had given Stiles the idea of multiple hats and he was glad he listened to her. The hat multiplied once and then again to create four hats. The students outside the fortress watched as the hats fell into Ravenclaw’s barricade. It didn’t take long to hear the screams mixed with a hint of excitement and laughter. The screams died down and then one could hear singing from within the walls.

A few Ravenclaws blew the fortress to escape and ran away from the four snowman now chasing them. Many couldn’t get far as they slipped on the strips of ice.

The Slytherins as predicted were throwing dark curses at the now four snowmen chasing the students around. Surprisingly, though they protected their own very well, throwing spells at the younger students to blast them in the opposite direction of the snowmen.

Ten minutes passed by where only about thirty students untouched by the now eight snowmen running amok. Stiles, Scott, Cora, Lydia, Jackson, Danny, and Derek were among them, dashing into mounds of snow to escape their grasps.

The seven of them had managed to make a small fortress and let the other remaining students distract the snowmen, while they caught their breath. They were all lying on their backs or chests to remain unseen.

“What the hell is this?” Jackson spat loudly, to be heard over the multitude of students singing around the Great Hall. “How do we get rid of it!”

“Why are you looking at me?” Stiles shouted defensively.

“You are the one who made it.” Jackson screamed, shoving Stiles.

Stiles smiled with Scott and Cora. “How dare you accuse us of doing something like this? We would never create such a beautiful prank in our lives.”

Danny rose a brow. “You have no idea how to stop it, do you?”

“Nope,” Scott said cheerfully. “Where would be the fun in that?”

“Oh Merlin you are a bunch of psychopaths.” Jackson seethed. All of them no longer heard running so they peeked carefully over the small fortress. They realized they were the only students left. They ducked down quickly as an evil snowman looked at them.

“I think I have a plan,” Lydia stated. And without warning, she levitated Jackson, throwing him over the fortress and into the middle of the eight, seven feet tall snowmen. Jackson screeched Lydia’s name with a vengeance and a high pitched squeal, as all eight snowmen crowded him and touched him. As the snowmen were distracted, Lydia shot a spell hitting two of the snowmen. Their hats exploded into multiple pieces, leaving only six snowmen left.

Lydia grinned at her spellwork and waved a hello at Jackson as he was glaring at her midway through song and shaking his hips. “Aim for the hats, or try get them off.” Lydia ordered the others.

They all nodded and escaped their fortress as the snowmen came charging at them. Stiles panicked as one of them came at him. He tried to run but he forgot about the ice and slipped on the ground, where immediately the snowman touched him. Stiles groaned as he stood and began to sing.

He watched the others. Danny, Scott, and Cora had gotten caught and were singing too. The only ones remaining were Derek and Lydia who were doing a decent job of knocking the hats off. There was only one left and both of them were dodging around the several students to avoid its grasp.

The hat flew off the snowman and Derek was not quick enough to dodge as the hat landed on the snowman behind him. It touched Derek and Stiles couldn’t help but laugh as the grumpy werewolf began to sing with a glare and shake his hips along with the melody.

Lydia gasped as she was the only one left and Stiles was grateful it went to her. As planned, the snowman stopped and its evil face returned to one of jolly and good cheer. He approached Lydia.

“Congratulations you won my game. For your prize,” The snowman began to dig in his stomach and pulled out a slip of paper. “A 50 galleon gift card to Honeydukes.” Lydia took the slip of paper with an amused smile on her face.

The snowman grinned and turned to the others who were still singing. He tipped his hat off his head, and all the singing from the students stopped at once. The snowman turned around. “Don’t be sad. I’ll be back again someday.” He stated and then every student began to panic once more as the snow began to move and head to the still animate snowman.

The snow gathered and grew and grew until the snowman was nearly touching the ceiling. Everyone stepped near the staff table in shock as the snowman beamed creepily at them. Everything had turned back to normal except for the freaking large snowman in the center of the Great Hall. “Goodbye my friends and enjoy your treats.”

The snowman began to tip over and everyone covered their faces waiting for the snow slush to collide with their bodies, but when they heard no splatter, everyone tentatively looked up. Several balls of snow were hovering over every students’ head.

Stiles, taking the lead, touched the snow and the snowball melted to reveal a neatly tied package filled with chocolate.

All the students gasped at the display and turned to their own snowballs touching them. Students yelped in joy when they saw the chocolate at their fingerprints.

Stiles grinned toward Scott and Cora at a prank well done. “Operation Snowman a success.” Stiles stated.

_“It was.”_

The three students gasped as they saw Deaton and Harris behind them. “Don’t even think about denying you were responsible for this evening’s entertainment,” Deaton said quickly. “All it will take is a simple charm on your wands to see what you did.”

“True, but no one was hurt.” Stiles informed.

“Be that as it may,” Deaton continued. “The fact still remains that you tampered with the ceiling, ancient tables, and imprisoned the staff of Hogwarts all for a prank.”

“Well if you look at it that way,” Scott interrupted.

Deaton gave a small smile. “May I ask though how three fourth year students managed to create spell work on that scale?”

“Allan, we are supposed to punishing them.” Harris seethed.

“Stiles did most of the work.” Cora admitted.

“Really?”

Stiles shrugged. “I guess, they helped a lot.”

“I’m impressed.”

“Allan…you can’t let them get away with this. They humiliated me in front of the whole school. They must be punished,” Harris continued.

Deatons sighed, turning to Harris. “Don’t be so frosty Harris; it’s Christmas.” With that, Deaton walked back to the staff table with Harris huffing behind him.

The three students exchanged grins.

“Congratulations Cora, you are officially regarded as a master pranker,” Stiles stated, pretending to knight Cora with his wand.

Cora rolled her eyes, pushing Stiles’ wand out of the way. “All worth it.”

The boys couldn’t agree more.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Scott and Stiles were on the Hogwarts Express back to London and surprisingly they were sharing a compartment with Cora. They would have been sharing with Derek as well but the older student had prefect duties and was manning the train.

“What are you doing this break, Cora?” Scott asked.

Cora shrugged. “Not much. For Christmas we kind of just stay in the house while my uncle pretends to get drunk.”

“Can werewolves get drunk?” Stiles asked.

“No, sadly.”

“Wait no presents or fancy dinner with turkey and pot roast and mashed potatoes?” Scott asked in outrage.

Cora shook her head. “Yeah we give presents and do all of that holiday stuff but we’re relatively normal during the break. We don’t do much that’s worth mentioning. What about you two?”

“Well Scott’s mom said she was going to take a week off work to take us out. Did she finally say where she was taking us?”

“She sent me a letter saying, we are probably going to Chester for the ghost walks.”

“Wait what are you doing about the full moon? It’s in what? Five days?” Cora asked.

Stiles pulled out his pendant and looked at the sand filled inside. “Six days.” He corrected and tucked the pendant back in his shirt. “Morrell gave me a large bag of mountain ash so it won’t be a problem if I put Scott in my dungeon.”

“You have a dungeon?”

“Why does everyone ask it like that?”

“I’m sorry I just forget everyone casually mentions they own a dungeon. My mistake.” Cora sarcastically muttered. “But is it safe?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. Deaton said to make a circle around Scott, and put some at the door of the dungeon for extra precaution.”

Scott nodded agreeing with Stiles. “It’s gonna be ok. Deaton even showed Stiles what he should check for when the moon is over.”

“Ok. Well good luck,” Cora commented. She turned to the compartment door when she heard a knock. She pulled it open and they saw Erica Reyes standing there awkwardly with a single blood pop in her mouth.

“Hi!” Stiles said cheerfully, waving at her. She smiled awkwardly and turned to the right to look at someone. Stiles leaned in his seat to see that it was Boyd.

“Thanks for the special gift.” She said, pointing to the blood pop she pulled out of her mouth.

“You’re welcome,” Stiles said genuinely.

“I uh—wanted to give you a gift too.” She said and from her coat pocket pulled out a black box and handed it to Stiles. It was a black watch with a bat logo in the middle, and a man dressed in gray spandex with a pointy mask over his face. Stiles had no clue on what it was. It was kind of creepy if you asked him.

“Thanks, Erica...I think.” Stiles, still said politely.

“You’re welcome. Uh I’m going to go now.”

Stiles nodded and she closed the compartment door, walking away with Boyd, with flushed cheeks.

“Dude! She gave you a Batman watch! That’s so cool!” Scott remarked, pulling to get a closer look.

“Whose Batman?”

“Dude! How can you not know! That’s it post-moon recovery time is going to involve a shit load of junk food, a TV, and a man named Christian Bale.”

Cora laughed at the two and settled into her seat in a more comfortable position.

Stiles pulled out the watch and she saw the gleam in his eyes, that he got a muggle gift. He attached the watch to his wrist and held it up in the air.

The three settled into a comfortable silence after that. After about an hour, Stiles stood up to head to the bathroom. He relieved himself quickly, washed his hands, and walked back to the compartment but on his way back, ran into Derek Hale.

“Dude, fuck!” Stiles muttered, rubbing his nose. “Are you made of out bricks?”

Derek turned around and looked at Stiles. “No flesh.”

“Haha. Funny.” Stiles remarked, already walking away. He didn’t want to deal with the werewolf at the moment—or any moment.

“Stiles.”

“What?” Stiles asked, turning around.

“Uh—thanks.”

“For what?” Stiles asked.

“Making my sister enjoy herself. I don’t think I’ve seen her that happy in years.”

“Well maybe if you started acting like a brother—“

Derek glared, and Stiles knew if they were not in public, Derek would have barred his canines and growled.

“Ah can’t attack me here can you?” Stiles asked with a laugh. “Well if you’re done, I’m gonna head back.”

And with that, Stiles left Derek alone in the corridor and went back with Cora and Scott.

They got back to London fairly quickly, they said goodbye to Cora and went to the baggage carriage to go grab their stuff. When Scott and Stiles finally got their things together, Scott finally realized he was not looking forward to seeing his mother. He was not worried about his terrible grades but rather if his mother was going to accept this new part of him—not that he was going to tell her he was a werewolf, but even Scott knew he acted differently. He fell from his thoughts when Stiles nudged Scott. “Hey, can you hear them?”Scott followed Stiles’ line of vision and saw that Cora and Derek were in the middle of the station looking lost.

_“Derek, where the hell is Laura?”_

_“I don’t know.”_

_“Do you think she’s working?”_

_“She never works on the days she picks us up.”_

_“Maybe it was an emergency?”_

“Hi, boys!” Melissa said as she approached, Stiles and Scott. Scott hardly paid attention to her and turned to other werewolves.

_“She would have sent Peter, I can’t smell him here.”_

_“What do we do then?”_

_“Go home ourselves, I guess. I have some spare muggle money that should be enough for the bus. C’mon.”_

Scott stood up straighter and dropped his suitcase. He walked hastily to the werewolves.

“Where is Scott going?” Melissa asked. Stiles groaned dramatically, clutching his head at Scott’s actions.

“Uh, I don’t really know.” Stiles answered.

“CORA!” Scott shouted, even though he knew the other girl would hear him with a whisper. Cora turned around and looked at him with curiosity. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” She said.

“Do you guys need a ride?” Scott asked, concerned.

“We’re fine.” Derek grumbled, and grabbed Cora’s trunk with his other hand.

“Are you sure? Cora told me you guys live in West London? I’m sure my mom wouldn’t mind.” Scott asked.

Cora perked up. “Yeah, I hate taking muggle transportation anway.” She stole her luggage from Derek and followed Scott. Derek had no choice but to go after his sister.

“Hey mom,” Scott smiled, when they finally approached her. He gave her a warm hug and turned toward the others. “Uh this is my friend Cora Hale and her brother Derek. Their sister isn’t here to pick them up. Do you think we can give them a ride?” Stiles gave him a look like he was insane. Scott gave him a puppy look of we have to help.

Melissa smiled sweetly at them. “Of course. Where do you guys live?”

“Fulham.” Cora said.

“Ok are you both ok with driving in a car?” She said, taking out her keys.

Both Hales nodded and began exiting King’s Cross Station. The seating arrangements were planned to avoid confrontation, but obviously that wasn’t going to happen. Scott sat up with his mother while, Cora took the middle seat between Stiles and Derek.

“Stop it.” Derek said.

“Stop what?” Stiles asked, leaning against the window.

“Smelling weird.”

“I don’t smell weird,” Stiles hissed.

“You do, its nauseating, take a goddamn shower.” Derek hissed back, covering his nose.

“No, I don’t. And I took a shower this morning.”

“You kind of do,” Cora agreed. “Uh, Ms. McCall can I open a window?”

“Sure honey. It’s a bit chilly outside though, you sure?”

“Most definitely.” Cora said. She leaned over Derek to lower his window and then did the same with Stiles’ window.  Both Hales sighed in relief when the smell improved a bit.

Stiles reeled back at their reactions. “Oh my fucking—“

“Stiles—“ Melissa reprimanded at his language.

“Sorry. I just don’t smell that bad!” Stiles shouted.

“Just accept it.” Cora added. “You smell like mandrake fertilizer.”

“Stiles, smells weird?” Melissa asked.

“Uh,” Scott interrupted and sent everyone a glare in the backseat. “It’s just um—no he doesn’t. It’s a thing they have. It’s a really really involved joke it would take forever to explain.”

Melissa turned to her son strangely for a moment, but after while turned back to the road. “Ok.”

A few minutes passed in silence and then bickering began emerging from the backseat again.

“Stop it.” Derek grumbled.

“Stop what?” Stiles asked, looking out the car window.

“Tapping your foot. It’s annoying.”

“I’ll tap, wherever whenever I want.”

“I will break your leg.”

“He really will,” Cora inputted.

Stiles huffed. “Whatever,” and continued to tap his leg.

Derek let out a low growl and moved over Cora to attack Stiles. “Boys!” Melissa shouted, and swerved slightly at the shock. Both of them immediately stopped and uttered their apologies. “Sheesh, please Stiles get along.” Melissa reprimanded again.

“Why are you telling me?”

Scott looked back with a grin. “Cause it’s most likely your fault.”

Stiles blew a raspberry in his friends direction and remained still as possible for the entire ride. It took about twenty minutes to pull up onto Derek’s home and Stiles held his mouth agape. Neat white Victorian townhouses were arranged on the street and Stiles definitely did not expect Derek Hale to live in such a happy place like this.

“Thank you Ms. McCall!” Cora said, as she pulled out their suitcases from the trunk of the car.

“Anytime.” Melissa said, waving to the Hales.

“Merry Christmas, Cora!” Scott said.

Cora wished the two boys the same, while Derek was already heading up to his home. When both of them entered their home safely, Melissa began to drive toward Cheswick. Scott made sure they were a good distance away, before finally rounding on Stiles.

“Dude, what the hell?” Scott yelled.

“What?”

“They went home.”

“Yeah…”

“They went home to house where their entire family is basically dead.” Scott said. “At least show some fucking sympathy. In case you haven’t noticed, they don’t really enjoy going home. Didn’t you see how Cora was acting on the train?”

“What?” Melissa interrupted.

“The Hale Manor Fire,” Scott said and turned back on Stiles demanding an explanation for his attitude.

“Oh,” Melissa breathed. “I wasn’t aware those were the Hales—“

“Just because they have a sad back story does not excuse Derek’s actions. My mom’s dead too you know!” Stiles shouted, crossing his arms over his chest.

Scott didn’t back down. “Then you should know how it feels. At least, be kind to Derek. What is your deal with him?”

“Nothing!” Stiles shouted. “He’s an ass. Never wants to help with you know what.”

“Have you considered he has other stuff to deal with?” Scott asked.

Stiles was quiet for a long moment. He caught Melissa’s eyes in the rearview mirror and she hastily looked away. “He has the same stuff to deal with that Cora does. Cora helps as much as she can and Derek doesn’t even try.”

Scott didn’t say anything more until they arrived at Scott’s home about thirty minutes later. It was awkward when both boys carried their suitcases to Scott’s room but Scott broke the silence after shutting the door to his room, so his mother wouldn’t hear.

“Look, I agree with you Derek is a total dick. But I think there’s something more to him. Mr. Howl-y can smell guilt on him on a near constant basis. All right, just ease up.”

“Whatever,” Stiles said and stretched on Scott’s  bed.

“No whatever! Your acting mean cause he’s acting broody and your meanness is causing him to act mean. It’s a cycle that starts with you.”

“That’s not how cycles work, Scott. They have no starting point.”

“Well point still stands be nicer.”

“Why?”

“Cause you're my best friend and I want you to act nicer.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

Scott grinned. “Cool, want to play some videogames?”

“You bet.”

 

|~~***~~|

 

When Derek opened the door to his house, he knew something was amiss. The house smelled like sickness. It seeped through the floorboards; it hung in the curtains, and stained the furniture of the house. He did not give it a second thought; he dropped his trunk on the floor, and ran as fast he could up the stairs to Laura’s room. He swung the door open and he felt himself choke. Cora was not far behind and when she made it up, she made her way to Laura.

Laura was a sickly pale and breathed shallowly, she appeared to be asleep. Derek approached cautiously, his heart hammering inside his chest. He kneeled beside her bed and felt her heartbeat. It was there but not as strong and fast as it should have been. She was alive though. That was what counted. He let out a shaky breath and barely realized that Cora had left the room to come back with a muggle thermometer.  He shuffled backwards on his knees and let Cora stick the thermometer in Laura’s ear. She waited for the machine to beep and when it finally did, she turned to Derek.

“It should be five degrees higher,” Cora whispered, panicked.

“Fuck!” Derek swore. “Take off your clothes now!” Derek commanded.

Cora nodded and both of them stripped down to their undergarments. Cora climbed on the bed and took Laura’s right side while Derek took the left. They wedged themselves close to their older sister, maneuvering her arms out of the way. They focused on heating her chest, head, and neck first. Derek let out a canine whimper and buried his head by his sister’s neck, carefully listening to his sister’s heartbeat.

“Where the fuck is Peter?” Derek hissed in outrage.

“Derek, I don’t think that’s what matters right now.” Cora said quickly.

“What? Of course it matters. He should be taking care of her! What happened?”

“Smell her, Derek!”

Derek paused and inhaled deeply. _Beta._ “What the hell is going on!”

“Aww isn’t this sweet!” Peter chimed from the doorway.

Both teenagers swiftly turned toward him not from the voice but rather from the unmistakable scent of an Alpha. “Peter, what the fuck is happening?” Derek growled.

Peter crossed his ankles, as he leaned against the doorway. “What? No hug to greet your uncle? Don’t you miss him at school?”

“Peter. What is going on?” Derek growled, lifting slightly off the bed. He didn’t want to risk leaving his sister in a hypothermic state.

“I thought it would be obvious,” Peter said, tapping his nose. When his niece and nephew gave him non-amused glares, he huffed. “Fine. Laura was being an incompetent Alpha, I simply transferred the power.”

“You what?!” Both teen hollered.

Peter rolled his eyes. “You make it seem like I killed the girl. Please, I love Laura. I performed the Alpha transferring spell. Remember my dear sister, Talia talked about this mean. The Alpha power is transferred to another werewolf, leaving the ex-Alpha in a weak state for a few years. She will be fine. Don’t worry. I keep the thermostat in here at 85 degrees, her hypothermia is not going to advance. She will heal on her own, so you both can get dressed, go get cleaned up, and head to the kitchen because I just spent a good three hours making you both a pecan pie and I’m not letting that go to waste. Some come on kids, get up.”

“No!” Derek growled and left his sister’s side to pounce on Peter. Peter barely batted an eyelash. He swiped at Derek in a large motion and Derek went colliding toward Laura’s dresser with a loud bang. “Go. Get. Cleaned. Up.” Peter growled, his eyes flashing red.

Both Derek and Cora whined at the command and reluctantly stood up grabbing their clothes from the floor. Peter followed them out of Laura’s room and closed the door behind himself. He cast a locking charm and headed to kitchen. “C’mon, I’ll go cut you guys a slice. I even bought you chocolate whipped cream, Cora, your favorite.”

Cora growled lowly under her breath and went to her room. Derek followed after her. Immediately, when the door closed, Cora turned into a werewolf. Derek understood her rage, and he admired his sister’s patience to keep calm when obviously all they wanted to do was attack Peter. Through her Beta form, she changed and Derek began to as well.

He watched his sister tug her shirt over her head a little too roughly and heard the growl from her own throat. “I’m going to kill Peter.”

“He can hear you.” Derek said softly.

“Does it look like I give a fucking damn! He attacked our sister! He is slowly killing her!” Cora marched to the door and Derek was ready to be all there supporting her and taking Peter down with her, but they couldn’t. Peter was an Alpha now. They didn’t have a chance. Derek remembered fighting with Laura for merely practice and the times they fought, she didn’t even try her best against Derek’s pushing limits.

“Cora, wait.” Derek said. “Let’s see what our uncle has to say.” He hissed the words, knowing very well that Peter was eavesdropping on their conversation.

Cora growled at Derek and calmed down enough to quell her werewolf features down.

After a few more moments, the siblings came out of the room and headed to the kitchen. They saw Peter wearing a frilly white apron, while he was conveniently pulling a pie out of the oven. He set the pie on the island and began cutting perfect slices. He placed each slice on a plate and handed them to Cora and Derek.

“What are you doing?” Derek asked.

“Feeding my niece and nephew.” Derek sent him a glare. “Fine, I personally think something needs to be done. Laura didn’t want to be involved in it but as an Alpha she needed to be. Relations with other werewolf packs is a vital job of an Alpha and Laura was ignoring it.”

“Ignoring what?” Cora hissed, refusing to touch the pie, even when Peter topped it with chocolate whipped cream and handed her a fork.

“Deucalion.”

“What?” Both of them asked.

Peter dramatically sighed, and walked over to the living room. He came back quickly with the Daily Prophet from last night. Derek read the headline. **WEREWOLF STRIKES AGAIN!!!**

Derek snatched the newspaper from his hand to read the front headline.

_Known werewolves, Deucalion, Kali, and Ennis have attacked a small wizard village in Scotland on December 19 at 3 a.m._

_The twenty wizards were killed all over the village all with visible bite wounds. Healers report that they were infected by werewolves and did not survive the bite. Ten wizards are currently missing from the village and there is speculation from Aurors that Deucalion is converting wizards into werewolves for  his personal army. Head Auror Stilinski and Auror Whittemore are in charge of the case and warn people to lock their doors at night and plant wolfsbane out their doors as a precaution._

_“We don’t want any more people getting killed or going missing. We want everyone to be safe and if they see any strange behavior do not engage and please contact the Aurors,” said Head Auror Stilinski._

_With this recent attack, this makes 33 missing witches and wizards and a death toll of nearly 50. The Auror department do not know at the moment why Deucalion is converting wizards into werewolves. Although it easy to say that werewolves are forming an army to attack wizards._

_There were rumors that in October they were spotted in Hogsmeade Village and attacked four students, but Headmaster Deaton from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry denies these claims. “Hogsmeade is safe. If there werewolves that close to Hogwarts , action would be taken immediately,” said Headmaster Deaton._

_And Headmaster Deaton is correct, Hogwarts safe and parents should not fear. However, Headmaster Deaton makes a good point of taking action. All of us must take action._

_Currently at the Ministry there is a list of possible werewolves where at least sixty names are present. The ministry’s top priority should be to find these wizards to determine whether they truly are werewolves and if they are we should show no mercy and kill them on the spot._

_Werewolves are a plague that must be stopped. They damage our wizard race._

Derek didn’t want to read about the prejudices the wizarding world had and finally put the article down and realized that Cora was reading behind him. After a tense moment, Derek turned to Peter.

“What is Deucalion doing?”

Peter sighed and walked over to the living room to lounge on one of their couches. “At first, I actually thought he was building an army to attack wizards. I wouldn’t blame him. Aurors killed his entire pack and from what I hear blinded him.”

“What do you think now?”

“It’s the number. It keeps increasing. He could have taken his revenge with about ten strong werewolves or so but when he got to twenty five a little bit before October I knew he was doing something else.”

“Which is?”

“Do you remember the stories Talia told you?”

“This is not the time for stories Peter,” Cora hissed.

“Cora, quiet.” Derek reprimanded. He wanted to hear Peter’s defense and whether it justified his means or not. “Which story? She told us hundreds.”

“The First Werewolf Lycaon.”

“Yes. Lycaon was a man who spoke ill against the Gods so Zeus turned him into a werewolf, the first werewolf, and killed his-”

“-Fifty children.” Peter finished. “That’s Deucalion’s magic number. Fifty.”

“I don’t understand,” Cora said.

“There is a legend in the werewolf community. It was a little dark so Talia never told you two. You were too young at the time. But, the legend is that one can revive Lycaon by obtaining fifty werewolves and sacrificing them under a lunar eclipse. And it just so happens there is a lunar eclipse next year sometime in December. It’s an ancient dark magic ritual that requires a lot of blood a few other materials that Deucalion most likely already has and once completed, Lycaon rises and whoever rises him has full control of him.”

“But! That’s insane!” Derek shouted. “If the stories of Lycaon are true then he can destroy towns within minutes. Nothing can stop him, wolfsbane, mountain ash, or any other magic that harms regular werewolves will do nothing for him.”

“Exactly.”

“There must be something right?” Cora said. “He died. There must be a way to kill him.”

“Unfortunately. There are a lot of versions of how he died that no one is really sure how it happened. All they really know was that there was a woman with red eyes involved.”

“Another werewolf killed him?” Derek asked.

“She wasn’t a werewolf.” Peter said. “Nobody really understands what she was.”

“So what? You attacked Laura because?” Cora said going back on topic.

“Well obviously, we won’t be able to stop Lycaon once he is released but we can stop Deucalion before he performs the ritual. Laura did not want to get involved, she said the Aurors would take care of it. The Aurors are incompetent. They don’t even know what they are chasing.”

“So the reasonable thing to do was to attack Laura!” Derek growled.

“I attacked her because I needed her power! I need to build an army to attack Deucalion. Deucalion is strong. There was a reason your mother formed a werewolf alliance with him. But after the loss of both our packs, the alliance is broken. Deucalion will not listen to reason. Killing him is the only plausible action we can take.”

Cora scoffed and her temper flared. “You attacked Laura for this. Even if Laura did not want to help, there are still other werewolves we speak to that could have helped. What about Simone’s pack in France? They are strong pack, there’s about fifteen of them.”

“Simone and his pack were attacked a few months ago. Only a few remain and from what I hear, the ones who are alive are in line to be executed by France’s ministry. ” Peter announced.

“What?” Derek asked. “But they were strong? Who did this?”

“The Argents.” Peter hissed. Everyone felt the sting at that name. “While Gerard and Kate are still in Azkaban it does not mean that Gerard’s son, Chris has stopped hunting.”

“But it’s one man! How can one man attack a pack!” Derek hissed.

Peter shrugged. “Chris is smart and I hear that his wife Victoria is a great asset. Even worse, their daughter was initiated as a hunter that day.”

Cora growled loudly. “Why didn’t you tell us this before?”

“I was busy with other matters. Taking care of Laura for one. Simone’s pack was not our concern.”

Derek stood venting with anger and turned to Peter. “There is not justifiable reason for attacking Laura, but you’re right. We need to stop Deucalion. He should be the primary concern right now. Cora and I will help you gather wizards to convert.”

“That would be helpful. I’ve already started though.”

“Who?”

“Not sure, some Gryffindor kid. Crooked jaw-“

“Scott.” Cora and Derek said in tandem.

“You know him?”

Cora glared fiercely at Peter and walked back up the stairs to Laura’s room. “Yes.”

Derek watched his sister go and turned back to Peter with a fierce glare. “I hope you know that this is the worst thing you’ve done.”

“And by this you refer to?”

“Laura. Turning an innocent kid.”

“Well would have turned his friend too except I got a bit distracted by his scent. And then next thing you know kid explodes with Merlin knows what and I’m being flung past the wards of Hogwarts. I have to tell you though, that kid, all I wanted to was pin him to the ground and scent him inappropriately. And I think that would be considered the worst thing I have done or would do.”

“Wait what?” Derek asked.

“Yup. Do you know the kid? I can smell him a bit on you.” Peter said.

Derek didn’t understand why Peter thought that Stiles smelled good, when both Cora and him found his scent utterly repulsing, but Derek found himself lying to protect Stiles and he didn’t know why. “He smells different, that’s for sure,” Derek said, sticking with that so Peter could not tell he was lying.

“You should bring him over, I would love to meet him,” Peter sneered. He stood up from the couch and walked to the front door. “Well I have a few errands to run. I’ll be back in a few days. Don’t throw any parties without liquor or without cute girls and boys while I’m out.”

Derek held in his growl and nodded. He watched his uncle leave and finally let out a long breath going over to Laura’s room. The door handle was broken, from where Cora had cracked it. He sighed. Cora was cuddling her sister as she leached pain off of her. Derek sighed and crawled into the empty space. He lied down, looking at the ceiling.

It was quiet for a long moment. An hour passed where no one said a word, until finally Cora broke it.

“I can’t believe you are siding with Peter,” She said.

“I’m not.”

Cora huffed. “You are letting him get away with this.”

“I’m not going to. I’m thinking.”

“About what?”

“Just let me think for a bit.”

“Derek,” Cora leaned against her elbow to look over Laura. “What are you planning?”

“Payback.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the reviews last chapter! I got really happy reading all of them and got me motivated to keep writing. Hope you like this chapter and enjoyed the prank. Tell me what you think!


	12. The Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles gets a weird vision while helping Scott and Derek gets his payback.

After six days of winter break filled with trying to hide Scott’s lycanthropy from Scott’s mom and overall trying to ignore the impending moon that was coming, Stiles and Scott finally flooed to Stiles’ home. Both their parents were working the night shifts, so they didn’t have to worry about getting caught, but they sort of did. They wanted someone present with them, they didn’t want to do this alone. It was too much responsibility for them to handle.

Both of them trudged to the dungeon. Stiles had never been down here and he was sort of glad he wasn’t.

The dungeon was dank and musty. Walking down the single hallway, both of them passed by several cellar doors that were cracked and splintered. The farthest, cellar door had the least bit of damage and it was that one Stiles wanted to use for precaution. He pulled the cellar door open, the motion creaking with an eery feel as Stiles led Scott inside. Scott stepped in the middle of the room, his sneakers squashing on the dusty stone cobbled floor.

Stiles checked Scott for any sort of discomfort of being here, but he only saw the usual signs of distress that usually came with Scott’s full moon symptoms. He worked in silence as he began to spill the mountain ash around Scott in a large half circle, pressing Scott against the wall. He was careful not to drop too much as he held onto the bag tightly. When he finished the first barrier, he looked up. Scott had finally seemed to get a bearing of where he was. Scott’s eyes ghosted over the barred window at the top of the cell to the rings and cuffs clamped to the dull grey wall that had been stripped off its silver hue by what appeared to be human scratches. The scratches were more prominent at the head of the small cot which was bolted to the floor by magic.

Stiles felt the irresistible urge to defend his family. “The Stilinski’s were purebloods. They have been for centuries and there hasn’t been a single pureblood family without a bit of blood spilled. Our family hasn’t worked in dark magic for centuries but I still feel weird knowing that we were involved in it.” Stiles stated monotone.

Scott didn’t seem to care, his eyes were transfixed to the cuffs at the top of the bed. He walked to them, his hands touching the rusty bronze. “Maybe you should tie me up. Just to be safe.”

“Scott, I’m not going to tie you up. The mountain will do just fine ok.”

Scott didn’t say anything. He sighed as he sat on the creaky cot. Stiles gave him a solemn look before resuming his duties. The remainder of the mountain ash was used to set a barrier at the entrance of the cellar door.

When Stiles looked to Scott again, he noticed that Scott was no longer paying him attention. He was looking out the small barred window.  

Scott was intently focused on the full moon and refused to take his eyes off it, Stiles didn’t know what do.

“Scott? I’m gonna go now. I’ll pick you up in the morning, ok.” Stiles said and walked away, when Scott didn’t even acknowledge his presence. Stiles carefully shut the door and walked out of the dungeon.

Immediately stepping back on to the main floor, the howls and pained whines began. Stiles tried his best to ignore it as he went to his room to brush up on his Potions, but he could only get as far as opening the book. Scott’s cries clenched at his chest and the only way Stiles found a way to deal with the noise was to bend over his desk, clutching his head between his hands. The cries were long and if Stiles stomped whimpering himself for a few seconds he could hear the disturbing sound of pulling flesh. He groaned as another whimpered howl echoed inside the house. He tried humming and rocking back and forth but nothing was happening.

After what felt like an hour, Stiles grabbed his wand from under his pillow and headed down into the dungeons again. When he opened the door to the dungeons and made his way down the hallway, the screams didn’t even sound like Scott anymore. The cries were hoarse and judging from the scratchy quality of it, Scott had most likely damaged his vocal chords screaming. They would be healed the following day, but it was disconcerting to think Scott was in that much pain.

Reaching the end of the hallway and the last cell door, Stiles took a few moments to recollect his breath and ready his wand just in case. He pulled open the cellar door carefully and the minute he could see Scott he retched inside his mouth. Scott was pushing harshly against the mountain ash barrier with his left side and currently his entire left arm had three degree burns where Stiles swore he could see muscle and bone underneath. His werewolf powers took over and healed the spot but Scott continued the burning process again.

“Scott?” Stiles tentatively asked.

Scott turned with a snap of the head and stared at Stiles with the eyes of a predator.

Stiles tentatively took a step forward, quelling the fear he had underneath, but when he took a step too quickly, Scott reared back on hands and feet to growl menacingly at Stiles.

It unnerved Stiles, that when he moved again, Scott was following his movements with every last bit of concentration. The only thing that had Stiles remotely feeling sane was that Scott had stopped hurting himself in an attempt to escape.

Stiles pressed up against the wall that was a few feet away from Scott. Stiles let the wall support his weight as he slithered down. Immediately, Scott began to pace around the mountain ash line, not taking his eyes off Stiles.

“Scott? I know, you’re in their buddy. Concentrate. Focus on me, c’mon.”

Scott didn’t even look remotely affected by Stiles’ words, he continued eyeing Stiles like a predator stalking its prey, and for all Stiles knew, that was exactly what Scott was doing.

He knew though that he was safe as long as the mountain ash was still there, so Stiles remained where he was. All of the hollering had stopped and as long as Stiles remained the entire night there, Scott would not wake up covered in blood and feeling ashamed for what he was.

Stiles stared carefully at Scott the entire night. And from one moment to the next he closed his eyes and when he opened them he saw a woman with ethereal white hair and a silver dress. The woman’s deep olive skin glowed as she was walked around Scott with a pained expression. Stiles could not move from his spot. He was frightened. And curious. The woman radiated power that demanded one to kneel. After she circled Scott a few times, the woman finally set her sights on Stiles and Stiles gasped. Eyes filled with red and smoking vehemently the same color as well, locked onto Stiles. Despite the fact that her eyes took up so much of her ethereal power, Stiles found himself drawn to her mouth. She moved her lips but no sound came out. He tried to read her lips and finally caught the word ‘soon.’

Stiles didn’t know what happened. One moment he was looking at the woman and the next he was jolting awake. He hadn't even realized he feel asleep while he had been fiddling with his pendant. He motioned to rub his eyes, but stopped when he heard Scott growl loudly.

Stiles tentatively looked up and saw that in his jolt he had broken the mountain ash line.

“Oh shit,” Stiles shouted, when Scott launched at him.

Stiles crawled as fast as he could to avoid Scott. When he turned over his shoulder, he saw Scott slide harshly against the floor and collide with the wall. Worst of all, Stiles had left his wand on the ground. Scott regained his senses quickly and then charged again at Stiles.

Stiles panicked and in his fray to get to a safe area, he knocked the mountain ash at the cellar door. “Oh c’mon!” Stiles screeched, when he saw what he had done.

He got up quickly and began running. He couldn’t run back up his house, there were too many exits where Scott could run out and wreak havoc on people, instead, Stiles made his way to an empty cell. He ran inside and closed the door, where Scott immediately began slamming against the door.

“Scott!” Stiles shouted in a futile attempt to control his friend.

The creature growled and Stiles yelped when he heard Scott begin to use his claws to tear at the door. It didn’t take long for Scott to destroy it and Stiles had nowhere to go but to press himself closely to the wall.

Scott charged inside the cell and without warning launched at Stiles. Stiles closed his eyes, waiting for the worst but he suddenly felt a strange bubbling and excruciatingly hot tingle across his skin. When he opened his eyes, red smoking lights were dancing in front of him and before Stiles could contemplate why they were there, they launched at Scott.

Scott yelped dog-like when he hit the wall.

“What the?” Stiles whispered and when he looked back at Scott, his friend was shaking the magic off and running toward him again. Stiles stepped back as much as he could against the wall, but once more the same red light danced around him and shot toward Scott. It was eerily familiar. When it happened for the third time, Stiles recognized the burning sensation from when Scott was first bit.

When Stiles finally got a good look at Scott, he saw that the magic he was throwing at him was causing Scott’s skin to sizzle like fire and that sure was not a good sign. He needed to stop Scott.

He couldn’t let his friend get hurt.

The magic within him bubbled and heated his skin further and then Stiles was shouting. “ _ **Scott stop!**_ ”

Scott’s eyes glazed over and he looked to Stiles, freezing. He was still in werewolf form though. Stiles peeled off the wall slowly and looked to his friend. In a shaky voice, Stiles spoke again, “ _ **Scott…calm yourself**_.”

Scott’s eyes glazed over again and then he breathed deeply. His yellow eyes turned brown and all his other werewolf features diminished, turning him human. Stiles could not believe it. He took a quick peek outside and still saw the full moon outside. Testing his luck, Stiles continued. “ _ **Go back to your cell**_ ,” It could have sounded like a menacing order, if Stiles’ voice would stop shaking.

Scott’s eyes glazed over as walked back to the cell he was first in. Stiles followed cautiously. When he got there, he dashed to his wand and pointed it at Scott as a safety precaution. “ ** _Don’t move._** ”

Scott continued to have that glazed look, and did not move at all as Stiles began to rearrange the mountain ash more carefully around his friend. When he finished, Stiles finally felt that he could relax. He took several long calming breaths, squelching the panic tightening his chest and the flurry in his stomach.

“Stiles, what’s going on? What are you doing here?!”

Stiles turned to his best friend and saw that he no longer had that hazed look about him, but more importantly he was still in his human form. “You tried to attack me.”

“I what?!”

“You didn’t…I-I. Fuck,” Stiles clenched his head, praying for the heat under his skin to return to a normal temperature. “I attacked you instead—and it was weird—and fuck man!” Stiles fell to his knees.

“Ok, Stiles calm down there must be a reasonable explanation.”

Stiles scoffed and then he felt his chest tighten more, making it difficult to breathe. “Oh that’s ironic!” Stiles hiccupped, losing his breath for a few moments.

“STILES!” Scott screamed from the other side of the mountain ash.

“Scott, I can’t-I can’t-breathe!” Stiles choked.

“Stiles! Break the line!”

“But!” Stiles gasped, beginning to feel sweat gather at his hairline.

“Trust me!”

Stiles crawled toward Scott and against his better judgment broke the line. Immediately, Scott was in his line of vision. “Ok, breathe, Stiles.” Scott said, his hands hovering over Stiles, not sure where to place them.

Stiles felt a sort of relief that Scott was being mindful of contact. He did not want to be touched anywhere, right now. He felt like he was burning inside out. He knew he was having a panic attack, and just like all the other panic attacks he used to have when his mother died, this panic attack involved magic. The cellar door began to shake and rattle against its hinges and the mountain ash grains were pumping madly around them.

“Stiles! Breathe!” Scott shouted.

Stiles couldn’t. All he could focus on was the red lights that had danced around him. What the fuck were they?

“STILES!”

Stiles couldn’t speak. The magic was bubbling up toward his throat, making him nauseous.

“Shit, I’m going to get my mom, you need help.”

“No!” Stiles shouted. He reached for Scott’s wrist when he stood up. “Your mom will find out you are a werewolf. We can’t have that happening!”

“Then you need to breathe!”

Stiles nodded and took deep breaths as he could. He tried to distract himself from the entire situation by listing all the ingredients and steps in how to brew Girding Potion. Trying to remember all the ingredients and holding Scott’s wrist, Stiles finally found himself breathing normally several minutes later.

When he looked to Scott, all he could do was sag. Scott took that as his cue to hug Stiles.

“Our lives are so screwed up.” Stiles murmured.

“Yeah,” Scott agreed.

After a few more minutes, both boys leaned against the wall. The full moon was still out, but it had reached its highest point already and was slowly going down.

“What happened?” Scott asked. “Only thing I remember was you telling me to calm down and not to move.”

Stiles turned to Scott. “You were screaming, I came down here, you stopped. I feel asleep, accidentally broke the mountain ash line.” Stiles took a small pause, biting his tongue to not mention what he saw when he was asleep, as he was not sure the woman was even real to being with. “You attacked. I ran, panicked. And then I had some weird magical outburst that was really hurting you which made me panic more-.”

“What do you mean weird?”

“Red lights appeared out of nowhere and shot at you.”

“How is that weird?”

Stiles brought his knees up and hung his hands in between them. “Magical outburst usually only cause things to break or shake or a random spell to happen, they don’t manifest themselves in actual raw magic.”

Scott furrowed his brows. “Was your magical outburst what caused me to go in control?”

Stiles ran his hand over his buzz cut. “I don’t know.”

Scott smiled. “Well whatever it was, it helped.”

“What do you mean?”

“I still feel like wolfing out, but you’re voice keeps telling me to calm down. It’s weird. It’s like when a professor gives you an instruction or a command and you just have to do it because they are your professor.” Scott paused. “You know I’ve actually been thinking what you are and I think you just might be a natural werewolf repellent.”

Stiles paused all the thoughts running through his head. “You know, that actually might make sense. The Hales say I smell weird. Werewolves obviously can’t get near me if they are going to attack me. I mean there’s you and the same thing happened to the werewolf who bit you. The question is, how and why am I one?”

“Magic?” Scott supplied weakly.

Stiles shrugged. “I’m pretty sure that plays a big role Scott but we are going to figure it out, first things first, let’s go to sleep in a real bed.”

“Are you sure?” Scott said apprehensively.

“You said it yourself, you’re being calm. Plus, I’m a werewolf repellent apparently. C’mon. I’m tired and I’m pretty sure you are too.”

Scott stood up. “Maybe we should take some mountain ash with us. Just in case?”

Stiles nodded and used his wand to gather what was left.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Stiles woke up sometime around early afternoon. He groaned and tried to escape the tangle of sheets, but after a struggle he gave up. He mouthed his pillow and blearily opened his eyes. On the opposite bed that Scott usually slept at was empty. _Oh no._ Stiles shot out of bed.

“Scott!” Stiles shouted.

“Yeah?” Scott asked, emerging from the bathroom adjacent, brushing his teeth.

Stiles sighed in relief. “Nothing,” He smiled, finally giving himself the chance to rub the sleep from his eyes and yawning. “Everything good?”

“Yeah, better than good.” Scott said, his voice muffled by the bathroom tiles. He came back wiping his mouth. “I haven’t felt like this since before I got bit.”

Stiles grinned, happy to know his friend was ok. He couldn’t wait to go back and tell Deaton that Scott was perfectly fine during the full moon now. He stood up and let his feet crack on the rug while he stretched. He walked to his bathroom and relieved himself.

When he came out he saw Scott getting dressed, pulling out clothes from the spare dresser that Stiles arranged to be there. Stiles got dressed too, putting on his favorite muggle jeans and green flannel shirt that Scott had bought him last year. Both of them left the room and headed down to the second floor to the breakfast room.

Both fourteen-year old boys began moving around together making their breakfast. It was a procedure that both boys were accustomed to. Both of them had to learn at an early age how to take care of themselves as their parents were hardly home. They prepared eggs, an overabundance of bacon, and toast. When they both sat down on the breakfast table, Stiles looked around the kitchen.

“Dude, where’s the ketchup?” Stiles asked.

Scott spoke through a mouthful of toast, “Ran out.”

“Ugh. Let me check in the kitchen downstairs.” Stiles grumpily got up, angry that his breakfast had to be interrupted. He left the breakfast room and went down the main stairs. Descending the stairs, he noticed the door to his father’s study was pulled open.

Stiles stared at the door with confusion and went to the study instead. He pushed the door the rest of the way open and saw his father passed out on his desk surrounded by piles of papers and a half empty bottle of firewhiskey. “Dad?” Stiles asked.

His father didn’t move. He continued to snore and breathe deeply. Stiles looked at his father sadly. He approached as quietly as Stiles could and began to pick up the fallen pieces of paper off the ground and arrange them on the desk. Stiles knew his father was hurting himself over this case and all he wanted was his father to take a break. He set the piles on the desk and looked around the room that was covered in papers and various strings of different colors.

He walked toward them, curious on how far is father was on the Deucalion case. He saw a bunch of clippings from the Daily Prophet and one of them caught his attention as it was from about a week ago. More people had died and gone missing, great. He pulled the paper from the wall and began to read it carefully.

Skipping over the werewolf prejudices Stiles found the entire situation odd. If Deucalion and his two other werewolves could attack villages without any problem, then what was the point of building a pack. It obviously wasn’t to get stronger, Deucalion did that fine on his own. So what was it?

“Stiles, what are you doing?”

Stiles jumped a little too dramatically and stuck the article back on the wall. It glued on its own with spellotape. “Uh-Nothing…”

John rubbed his face, sitting up straight. “And of course I believe what you are saying,” He said sarcastically.

Stiles weakly laughed. “What time did you get home?” He asked. He didn’t expect his father until the late afternoon and if he had come earlier then he wondered with trepidation if he had heard Scott.

“Around six in the morning I think. Came here to tack a few more papers, must have fallen asleep.” He finally stood up to stretch. “By the way, we need to talk.”

Stiles laughed as nonchalantly as he could. “Talk? Talk about what?”

John rose a brow at his son. “You know what, your grades.”

Stiles mentally sighed in relief that it had nothing to do with werewolves or full moons. Nevertheless, it didn’t mean he wanted to talk about that either. “Uh? How bout we talk about that after you get some breakfast in you?”

“No, you’re not getting out of this, Stiles. Sit down.” Stiles frowned, but walked to the blue plush chairs and waited for the reprimand. “Care to explain yourself, before I yell at you.”

Stiles grinned cheekily. “Uh well you see. I’ve been pretty busy—“

“Is it the Quidditch team? Dueling Club?” John asked. “Cause if it is, Stiles. I’m sorry but you’re going to have to give one up. I saw your grades; you’re nearly failing Defense and Potions.”

“Ok the Potions one I can explain! Harris is a huge dragon dick!”

John was not amused. “Stiles. I’m being serious. I want an explanation. I know you’re capable of more than just this.”

Stiles licked his lips and hung his head for a moment. He didn’t want his father to be plagued by this. “I know. I’ll try harder.” He said softly.

John’s eyes lost their intense gaze. “Stiles, what’s wrong.”

“Nothing, I’ll try harder. I mean I should. OWLS are next year, can’t slack off now.”

“Stiles?”

Stiles hummed.

“Is this about your mom or?”

Stiles’ eyes opened wide. “No! No! Nothing like that. I swear! I’ve just been goofing around this year. I promise I will do better. Don’t worry.”

Stiles knew his father didn’t believe him, but Stiles loved his father immensely by the fact he knew when to drop a subject. He knew his father was worried about him, and his father had too many things to worry about. Stiles didn’t have to be one of them. The least Stiles could do was actually work on his grades.

“Alright, well, I’ll be up for breakfast in a bit.” John said, resigning that he was not going to get through to his son.

Stiles stood up quickly. “Awesome!” He cheered falsely. He began to walk out the door and out of just a chance he turned to look back at his father. He was rubbing the bridge of his nose as he looked over the papers. He looked wrecked was the best way to put it.

“How is the case going?” Stiles asked.

“Nothing that a fourteen year old boy, should be worrying about.” John said with finality.

Stiles obviously ignored him and walked over to the stack of papers he had picked up from the floor. “I think you might be on to something. Whatever Deucalion is planning doesn’t sound like he’s just building an army.” He pointed to where John had scribbled on a few sheets.

“It sounds like whatever Deucalion is planning sounds like dark magic.”

John paused, and looked to his son with disbelief. “Like sacrificial magic-multiple ones. Shit!”

John ran out of the study, and Stiles was a little startled as he heard his father curse. He wasn’t one to have such a crude vocabulary as he was raised by purebloods. His mother on the other hand-he remembered distinctly well causing uproar whenever she opened her mouth.

Stiles followed his father down the hallway and into the library. John was on the second story of the library, a place where Stiles knew he was not allowed to venture to. As his father searched for a book, Stiles turned to Scott who had come through the door.

“Sorry was kind of eavesdropping,” Scott whispered. “Is your dad ok?”

“I think I might have helped.”

The two boys watched John descended the stairs with a large tome in his hands. He placed the heavy book on one of the many desks they had in the library and began to rifle through it. Stiles and Scott approached.

“We have a book on werewolf rituals?”  Stiles asked.

“No, werewolf lore.” John said. “It was not ours originally. It was something I pulled off during the first Deucalion case. We confiscated several of his things and I kept this one.”  He said absentmindedly. “Here.” John said, finding the page he was looking for.

Stiles peeked over his father’s shoulder. “Oh no-“ John abruptly said. “I know I promised both of you that I would take you to the Ghost Walk today with Melissa but I really need to go to the office right now.”

“No problem,” Scott said. “The plans got canceled anyway. My mom thought that it was a good punishment for how I’ve been doing in school.”

“Great!” John exclaimed and then caught his mistake. “I meant not great-but good punish-uh you know what I mean Scott. Stay safe kids.”

“Ok dad,” Stiles said, watching his dad rush back to his study to use the floo.

When Stiles heard the familiar fire crackle, Stiles turned to the book that his father had left on the table and began to read the passage. “Lycaon?”

They look at the open book and read it together. Stiles scanned it quickly and when he finished he understood where his dad was heading with this. Deucalion was planning to turn fifty werewolves to rise Lycaon.

“This sounds dangerous,” Scott said, finishing a few moments after Stiles.

“My dad will handle it,” Stiles said, trying to calm himself. Scott agreed. “Uh, let’s go watch that Batman thing you told me about.”

“Sure. Marathon at my place.”

 

|~~***~~|

 

Scott, Stiles, and John were pressed up against the railing of the river, watching fireworks explode in every direction by the London Eye Ferris Wheel. The fireworks were still going strong even after New Year’s was announced ten minutes ago. Stiles and Scott laughed as they caught a few wizard fireworks thrown in with the muggle ones, but none of the muggles seemed to notice anything odd about a dragon firework dancing around The Eye before exploding.

Scott wished his mother could be here with them, but she had to take a shift at St. Mungos, saying that Holidays always packed the hospital. Instead, Scott enjoyed New Year’s with his best friend, and his best friend’s father, who had already become a father figure to Scott a few years ago.

Stiles cheered madly as one last firework lit up the entire sky. Scott laughed as his friend stumbled back in excitement. He moved to catch him, but paused when a familiar scent filled the air. _Werewolves. Maker. Alpha._

“Stiles!” Scott shouted among the uproar of the crowd.

Stiles finally stood up and turned to his friend with confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“I smell you know what.”

“Here?!”

Scott nodded and looked all around, trying to pin down the scent.

“C’mon boys,” John said, hiking up his winter coat. “Let’s get to a safe distance so we can apparate back home.”

Neither of the boys paid attention. It was finally Stiles who saw what Scott was smelling. “Scott!”

Scott turned around and saw both Derek and Cora. They had their heads hung low and were maneuvering around the crowd with expertise. Following their movements, Scott realized that the Hales were following a well-dressed man who had his hair slicked back.

Scott was about to pull Stiles, so they could see what was happening, when John grabbed both their collars from behind. “Oh no. You are not leaving me here alone. I took a day off for you boys. C’mon. We are going to go home and have hot chocolate with marshmallow spiders and some pumpkin pasties Melissa said she made but I most certainly know she bought.”

While the trio struggled to leave the crowd, Scott leaned in close to Stiles. “This is probably better. We don’t want your dad hexing someone on the spot.”

Stiles nodded and Scott noticed he looked back toward the Hales with concern.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Derek made sure to keep Peter in his line of sight the entire time. The three of them had gone out, due to Peter wanting some pack bonding, but when Peter disappeared to get them some hot chocolate fifteen minutes ago, Derek knew something was amiss.

He tugged on Cora’s sleeve and urged his younger sister to follow him. It wasn’t that hard to scent Peter in a crowd of muggles. Peter stuck out like a sore thumb especially with his Alpha scent.

While he walked deftly through the crowds, he caught two familiar scents that made him pause. Cora looked to him for confusion, but when he turned quickly behind himself he saw both Scott and Stiles being pulled away by a man that looked similar to Stiles. Derek furrowed his brows and continued following Peter instead.

They caught Peter seducing a young woman who was most likely in her early college years. Her physique was short, but Derek could see the power she held in her shoulders and the muscles that were highlighted by the leggings she was wearing. She was most likely a gymnast, a good candidate if a werewolf wanted to turn someone.

There were certain things that Derek learned werewolves looked for when turning, and depending on the Alpha they choose differently.

Some Alphas searched for candidates that were strong as human. It had its benefits. They were most likely to survive a werewolf bite and their strength would be enhanced beautifully as a werewolf. The downsides to searching for strong humans was that they tended to come with strong personalities as well that clashed with the natural role a Beta possessed.

Other werewolves, looked for a weak and vulnerable candidate. The benefits to them were that they would listen to their Alphas upon turning much more easily and their strength while not powerful alone somehow increased when in a tightly knitted pack. The downsides—very few survived.

Judging from the woman, Peter was going for the former. Derek watched as Peter tucked a strand of hair from the young woman’s face and the woman giggled.

Derek growled softly and walked to Peter with determined strides.

“Uncle Peter,” Derek exceptionally smiled toward Peter.

His uncle noticed quickly and stood straight, placing his superior strength on display.

Derek tried his best to ignore it as he felt Cora come behind him. “You said you were going to take us to The Eye!”

“Later, Derek.” Peter said turning to the woman.

Derek glared and stepped in front of his uncle. He looked at the woman and gave his best faux smile. The woman blushed and glanced away for a moment before setting her sights on him. “Hello, are you friend of my uncle?” Derek asked.

The woman giggled. “Uh no, we just met. My name is Paige.”

Derek heard Peter laugh darkly behind him. He ignored it and most of all he pushed down the emotions swelling in his stomach at that name. It was just a coincidence. Just a coincidence. “Name’s Derek. I’m sorry but my uncle did promise my little sister and I a trip on the Ferris Wheel before the police make everyone go home.”

“Oh that’s sweet of him. I’ll leave you three then. Have fun!” She smiled and walked away from the trio.

Peter’s eyes flashed red for a few moments at Derek, before he pulled at both Derek and Cora. Peter pulled them as far as he could without any muggles noticing and then apperated straight into the Hale home. Derek and Cora back peddled, feeling groggy at the sensation of side apparition.

“If you’ll remember correctly, Derek, I am the Alpha. The next time you disobey my plans. I will not hesitate to put you in your place,” Peter snarled and his eyes glowed red.

Derek glared at Peter. “You were planning on turning her in front of everyone!”

Peter sighed deeply and rolled his eyes. “You were never the smartest Hale. Of course, I’m going to turn someone in front of a crowd like that. Might as well go straight to the Ministry and announce that our family have been werewolves for hundreds of years.”

Derek huffed and saw his sister walking into place.

“Of course, Uncle Peter. I am sorry I doubted my former Alpha.”

Peter stopped and stared. “You wouldn’t dare.” But there was a twitch of a smile on Peter’s lips.

Derek smirked. “I would. You hurt, Laura. If I switch the power to me, Laura will regain her strength and it will be you in her place.”

Peter chuckled. “Like you can fight me. You were always a terrible werewolf. Cora!” Peter said addressing the girl for the first time. “You remember right? You used to pin Derek in three seconds flat!”

Derek stood straighter and pulled his wand from beneath his robes. “Sure, but I’ve always been the better duelist.”

“You’re underage,” Peter laughed.

“It’s been about more than week since my birthday. Glad to know my uncle remembers it.” Derek said before firing a spell.

Peter dodged it and went for Derek.

Cora jumped from her spot and launched at Peter. Peter went reeling a few steps back.

Derek knew that there were very limited spells that harmed werewolves. The most advanced spells required a mastery in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Derek was creative and most of all determined to get his sister back.

Peter was distracted as Cora went quickly back on her feet and launched again. Derek meanwhile made sure to cast the appropriate silencing charms and locking charms all across the house to not alert any of the muggle authorities. The second Derek was done, Derek looked up and saw Cora groaning on the floor and Peter was charging at him.

Derek held his ground. “ _Protego Horribilis!_ ”

A blue shield shimmered in front of Derek, and Peter was not able to stop in time. He hit the shield and went colliding backwards onto the fireplace, shattering it completely. Peter crouched low on the ground and let his eyes shine red as the debris from the fireplace cleared around him, he began to turn fully into his Alpha form.

Derek took a step back, but held his wand firmly in his hand. Peter with his full speed, flew toward Derek but Cora was quick enough to step in front of her brother. She brought her right arm in a perfect arc, slashing at Peter. Peter ducked under her arm and with his claws, grasped Cora’s flank and upper thigh to throw her. Cora snarled as the claws sunk into her skin, but she used the higher leverage, to push onto Peter’s chest with her feet and flipped backwards. Peter stumbled a few steps backwards and before he could regain his balance, Derek launched a table cast alight in flames at the Alpha.

Peter attempted to move away, but then Derek cast another spell.

“ _Expulso!_ ” Derek shouted.

The explosion behind Peter, caused Peter to tumble into the table.

Peter cried as the flames burned his fur rapidly. He rolled on the ground and let the floorboards diminish the flames. He stood up again and glared at Derek.

Derek knew that while his uncle’s face was fully transformed into the hybrid wolf, Derek could still see the malicious smile on his uncle’s lips. Before he could react, Peter ran toward Cora, who was still healing from the claw marks on her side.

He picked her up and held his claws to her neck.

While Peter could not speak in this form, the message was clear. Make another move or I’ll slash her throat.

Derek looked around the room and saw his opening. He cast a _Reducto_ on all the vases that Laura had on the table behind Peter and sent the broken shards flying toward him. The broken glass embedded itself on Peter’s back and the Alpha howled in pain. He dropped Cora and Cora crawled out of the way as Derek casts a circle of fire around Peter while casting fireproof charms on the floorboards at the same time.

Peter bent his knees, ready to jump above the flames, but Derek flicked his wand and the flames rapidly encased Peter preventing him from doing so. Derek lowered his wand, forcing the flames to descend lower as well, forcing Peter to return to his human form.

“Surrounding me in flames, Derek? This is cruel but to be expected from you, it’s all you know how to do.”

Derek glared, “Cruel is what you did to Laura.”

“As I said before, Laura was being uncooperative.”

“And now you are,” Derek answered. He flicked his wand again, causing the flames to move. Peter had no choice but to follow the flames, lest he get burned. Derek parted the flames and stuck his clawed hand within Peter. “ _Adepto Potentia_ ,” Derek said.

Peter keened. He almost fell, but Derek’s arm in his chest was preventing him from falling. Derek dug his hand in deeper and said the spell again. Derek felt the power slowly recede from his uncle and transfer to him.

He gasped as the smoke of red light slithered into his own eyes. He shut them when the transfer was complete. Feeling dizzy, Derek dislodged his claws from his uncle’s chest. The power felt strange and exhilarating as it saw low in his gut ready to be used. It was overwhelming and Derek could not wait to use it to his disposal.

It took him few moments to realize that his uncle was passed out on the ground and his younger sister calling out to him. He finally came to his senses and looked to his uncle. He crouched down and picked him up. He carried him to  Peter’s room and placed him on his bed before heading to Laura’s room.

Laura was stirring awake. He crouched down to her level and began to leech her pain away to help aid the process. The second Cora saw him doing this she kneeled and did the same.

“Derek…”Laura groaned. “What did you do?”

Derek smiled and pressed his face into his sister’s neck. He rarely gave into physical contact with his family, ever since the fire, but he needed to feel the sickness leaving her body. He held back the happy whimpers and instead grasped his sister’s hands.

“I saved you,” Derek said.

Laura groaned again and turned to Cora. She gave their youngest sibling a soft smile, in which Cora motioned to crawl into Laura’s side. “What did your brother do?” Laura asked.

Derek was impressed with Laura’s ability to get to the heart of the situation. He knew prolonging her questions would be worse so he answered her. “I took Peter’s Alpha power.”

Laura snarled, but her grogginess didn’t make her terrifying. “Derek you don’t know what you are doing. Why did you let your brother do this?”

Cora shrugged. “I thought it was the best situation at the time.”

Laura pushed herself up, but could hardly get her arms to move. Derek grabbed her gently until she was sitting up on the headboard. “Derek, what you’re doing—this is dangerous,” She said, looking into his eyes.

“But Laura you know that we can’t have Lycaon rise. We need to do something.” Derek pleaded.

Laura sighed. “And what are you going to do Derek? Take on Deucalion and his army of werewolves alone?”

“I’m an Alpha now.”

“Being an Alpha does not equate strength. You are delusional and suicidal if you think you can stop Deucalion.”

“He won’t be doing it alone,” Cora whispered, beside her sister. “He has me.”

Laura turned to the youngest in disbelief and turned back to Derek. “You have Cora in on this!” Derek hung his head between his shoulders, gaze lingering on his hands holding Laura’s. He stared enough for Laura to scoff. “You’re unbelievable. I can’t believe you got Cora involved.”

Derek turned to the forest green bed sheets. “I’m sorry. She wanted to help.”

“Help!” Laura demanded. “Derek, this is beyond us! This is why I wanted the Aurors to handle it.”

Derek let go of Laura’s hands and began to pick at the threading of the sheets while Laura watched with the frustrated face she always got when she thought Derek was doing things beyond his capacity. Derek waited for the encore and sure enough—

Laura sighed deeply. “Enlighten me,” Laura said. “Since you believe you two have it all figured out. What is your plan to stop Deucalion then?”

“Laura.”

“No, seriously, I want to hear this plan.”

“Ok, I get it!” Derek snapped; he stood up. He looked quickly at Cora who seemed awkward in this entire situation. She sat up on the bed unsure whether she should leave. “My good intentions always get people hurt and killed! But this is different. I know I can stop Deucalion! You never have faith in me. You haven’t had faith in me after the fire, and don’t try to deny it. I know you blame me for it.”

“Why would she blame you?” Cora asked, looking at her brother with a horrified expression.

“Nothing,” Laura and Derek said together.

Derek clamped his mouth shut, already regretting what little he had said. Laura sat quietly next to him and probably knew exactly what was going through Derek’s head. They’d lived in each other’s pockets long before the fire not to be familiar with each other’s issues.

Laura and him were good, used to be, Derek reflected. Derek had ruined their trust, ever since the fire, ever since he chose Kate Argent over their family. But Derek was certain of this decision. It had been on his mind ever since he had heard Peter’s plan. He wanted to do this. He needed to do this. He needed to set something right.

“Did it ever occur to you that I do trust you? I always have, I just don’t want anyone in our small family to get hurt again,” Laura said at length.

Derek swallowed. Laura’s words panged at his chest. Yes, it had occurred to him—Laura always said that she trusted Derek, she had uttermost faith in him. But for some reason, the idea that Laura actually did was even harder to swallow than remembering his family’s death. Part of it was the disbelief Derek felt when Laura said she loved him, not because he mistrusted Laura’s words, but because he thought Laura had no right to. After all, he was the reason their family was dead.

“You don’t fuck things up,” Laura said softly. “I just want you to be safe.”

Derek breathed in deeply. “And I want you to be safe. That’s why I’m doing this, for all of us. You will get better in a few months and by then I will have this entire situation dealt with. Please.”

Laura said nothing. She nodded and Derek took that as her blessing. Derek left Laura’s room and without turning back felt Cora running after him.

“Derek!” She called.

Derek paused on his way to his own room.

“Maybe,” She said. “We should back out. I mean you got your payback on Peter, there is no need to venture and save the wizarding world. That’s what Aurors are for.”

“We need to stop Deucalion.” Derek said with finality. “We need to do this for our family. Think about it with the world’s most powerful werewolf on the loose it’s only going to be harder for us. People are going to be more vigilant about werewolves meaning that they are going to be able to spot werewolf characteristics more easily. They will find out who we are and kills us, Cora. I’m not going to let anyone in our family die. Laura is fine now. She will get better in a few months, she will probably be able to walk once summer comes around. Peter will be fine too we just need to wait about ten years, which is a justifiable punishment considering that he harmed Laura.”

“I don’t like it,” Cora said.

“I don’t either.”

“Who's going to take care of them while we’re gone at school?”

“We’ll call Deaton.”

“Oh yeah, cause he’s going to take this splendidly.”

“He’s going to have to. He answers to me. I’m the Alpha now.”

Cora rolled her eyes and began walking back to Laura’s room. “I hope you know what you are doing.”

“I do. I’m not letting this family down again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I'm just gonna say my headcannon for Laura is [Meghan Ory](http://media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m7u76cafRX1qeitqh.gif) who plays a werewolf in Once Upon a Time
> 
> Tell me what you thought of this chapter. All the reviews make me write faster and upload faster.


	13. New Scent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek tests out his new Alpha powers.

Derek felt a sense of relief and sense of resolve as he passed through the barrier into platform 9 ¾. He was without a doubt already itching to leave his house and return to the castle walls.

After speaking with Deaton about the situation, Deaton was not pleased. He was furious, well, as furious as Deaton can get. Deaton had said he would help Laura and Peter as it was his emissary duty, but Deaton firmly stated that he would not condone Derek’s decision to stop Deucalion. Derek understood and as long as his family had someone looking out for them, Derek could care less if he had Deaton’s approval. Although, Deaton’s constant complaints about Derek’s decision to turn a few students for the cause was driving Derek up the wall. Deaton had made it his life mission to annoy Derek by constantly reminding him that Derek needed to think this through. But Derek had. Derek had finally gotten Deaton to quiet his opinions by asserting his Alpha status. While Deaton was older and a more powerful wizard; Deaton could not ignore his family’s sworn blood loyalty to the Hales.

So finally going back to Hogwarts where Deaton would be taking care of the two bed-ridden Hales meant that Derek was going to see Deaton minimally. Thank heavens-

_“Derek!”_

Derek placed his trunk in the baggage carriage and reached for Cora’s before turning around. He saw a small Indian girl from Hufflepuff run up to him. She was all smiles and bouncing dark hair, that Derek felt slightly wary upon seeing her.

“Yes, Niyati?” Derek asked, being polite. Cora snickered, and took her luggage from Derek’s hand to place it in the cart herself.

“Ok, so I’ve realized I’ve been a bad prefect,” Niyati said guiltily. Derek didn’t argue. The fifth year prefect was always missing and Derek found himself covering her shifts all of first semester. The girl twirled her hair. “I know you’ve been covering for me even with Morrell so I want to make it up to you! I’ll do prefect duty today, cover yours for about a month, and do a double shift when the term ends. I know the end of the year one is always a pain, so I’ll do yours.”

Derek was hesitant. “Why?”

Niyati giggled. “Well, Raj pointed out to me that I was being a bad Hufflepuff and a friend so take this as a gift and way to redeem myself to our House.”

“You sure?” Derek asked.

Niyati nodded with a large smile.

“All right,” Derek said and thanked the girl. He followed his younger sister inside the train, leaving Niyati alone.

“I think Niyati has a crush on you,” Cora laughed.

“She doesn’t. She has a thing for Raj that’s why she cares what he thinks. She wouldn’t be doing this if it wasn’t for him,” Derek pointed out.

“Oh, well that’s a shame. You too would make a cute couple.” She reached and empty compartment and pulled open the door.

Derek made a face as he sat down. “She’s too—“

“Hufflepuff?” Cora finished. Derek nodded. “I still don’t understand how you survive with all those rainbow shitting unicorns. If they knew that you were just a grumpy sarcastic old wolf, they would throw a riot.”

“I don’t really talk to most of them, unless I have to. They mistake my quietness for niceness and if they do that’s their problem.”

“You’re unbelievable,” Cora grinned, and kicked her brother’s shin. “Speaking of unbelievable, what’s the plan?”

Derek turned outside the window and watched many of the students say goodbye to their parents, “The plan is to scout out potential people to turn. During the summer we train them to fight and deal with Deucalion when school resumes for next term.”

“That’s cutting it close. The ritual is in winter.”

“We’ll do it.” Derek stopped as he smelled something unfamiliar approaching. What was that? Derek turned to the compartment door and saw Scott swing it open. The scent was on him but it wasn’t coming from him. So that meant the smell was somewhere on the train. But where? Derek felt the urge to go find it. It smelled amazing. Derek finally focused on Scott who was standing at the doorway with his eyes wide open and nostrils flared. Could he smell it too?

“What the ever flying fuck!” Scott screeched, shutting the compartment door with a slam. He sat next to Cora and leaned over to sniff Derek. “Why the hell am I smelling?—“

“He’s the Alpha now,” Cora answered if that explained everything.

Scott swiftly turned to Derek. “Wait. What? How?”

Derek shrugged.

“That is not an answer!” Scott shouted.

“There’s no reason for you to know.” Derek said.

Cora huffed. “It’s a spell. Our sister was Alpha and Derek transferred the power to himself.”

“Why?”

Derek turned to Cora and Derek never felt more relieved that Scott was a terrible werewolf. He wouldn’t be able to tell if she was lying. “Our sister felt Derek would be more suited to being the Alpha for our family since he’s of legal age now.”

Scott was taken aback by that. “You’re seventeen? But you’re a fifth year!”

Derek shrugged not wanting to explain that his sister had decided that Derek would not attend his first year until he had a full years’ worth of therapy. Therapy in which he never really took seriously.

He noticed that Scott had turned to Cora for answers but his sister was fully ignoring him. “Where’s Stiles?” She asked instead.

Scott groaned and placed his legs on the opposite seat, while leaning back. “He went to go find Lydia Martin.”

Cora pulled a face. “I can’t stand her.”

“Don’t let Stiles hear you say that.” Scott commented.

“Like I care what that hyperactive junkyard smelling Slytherin thinks,” Cora said laughing. “I honestly don’t know what he sees in her. She’s rude and has a terrible personality.”

“She’s pretty,” Scott answered. “I think that’s all he’s willing to see.”

Derek sighed, pressed his head against the window as the train let out a long high-pitched whistle, and began to move. He could hear his sister speak with Scott on how his break went. He was glad to note that his sister was not giving much information on her break. Scott did not need to know, no one did.

After a good hour, Derek sat up straight as that familiar scent attacked his nostrils again. He was about to question it but then he was hit with the scent full force as the compartment door was swung open.

“Oh fucking God, Stiles!” Cora shouted, quickly standing up to pull open the window.

Could she smell it too? Wait was the scent coming from _Stiles_? As Stiles sat next to him, Derek was hit with another wave of it. At first, it smelled like bubbled magic ready to explode, but after another wave of it, Derek smelt something that he only associated with the full moon. What the freaking hell!

“One hour and six minutes, new record,” Stiles grinned, swinging his feet on Scott’s lap.

“Stiles, you do realize you have donkey ears right?” Scott asked, pushing Stiles’ feet off his lap to lean over and touch said ears.

“Yup. Lydia was doing a good job on ignoring me but then after a while she got fed up and put these on me. Dodged a nasty animal noise sounding charm otherwise I would have been wheezing donkey noises the whole way here.”

Cora leaned over and touched the ears too. “Why not try a counter charm?” She tugged on the right one harshly, causing Stiles to yelp and swat her hands away.

“Tried. I can’t find the counter charm but Lydia’s not that cruel. The spell should wear off on its own.” Stiles said and then acknowledged Derek for the first time. “What has you all constipated?”

Derek growled. He didn’t know what to say. All he wanted to do was jump Stiles and begin scenting him but that sure as hell was not going to happen. Why did he smell different? From Cora’s reaction, Stiles smelled the same to her. Was it his new Alpha status? Did the idiotic Slytherin just smell naturally good to Alphas? His claws dug into the seat cushion.

“Sheesh, just asking.” Stiles said and Derek did not miss the significant look he passed Scott as he mouthed the words, “I am being nice—chill.”

Derek didn’t understand but turned outside the window, trying not to breathe. He really needed to get out of here before he did something he would regret.

“How was your full moon?” Cora asked, after Scott had found a fascination with touching Stiles’ ears and forced the fourteen year old onto the other bench.

“Amazing.” Scott said.

Derek was shocked, no sarcasm.

“Stiles, helped. He stayed with me the entire time.”

Derek didn’t mean to speak up but apparently, Stiles’ scent was making him do idiotic things. “That’s dangerous.” Derek said.

Everyone in the compartment turned to him with confusion that Derek actually found himself shying away from it.

“It was a bit, worked out in the end. I can’t wait to tell Deaton that Scott can control his werewolf side during the full moon now.” Stiles smiled.

“Deaton is not coming back—at least not anytime soon,” Derek said.

“What?!” Scott shouted. “Why? What happened?”

“He’s helping our family with a few things.”

“What kind of things?” Stiles asked.

“Things.” Derek said cryptically.

Derek knew they wanted to pry more, but he wasn’t in the mood. And he needed to get away from the scent as soon as possible. Without any explanation, Derek got up and left the compartment. He walked quickly down the train’s corridor. His first thought was to distract his mind by dealing with prefect duties, but honestly, no one enjoyed doing prefect duties on the train, so instead he went to a lavatory. Entering the cramped area, he turned on the sink, splashing water on his face.

Water dripped down his cheeks and splattered against the marble sink. His reflection in the mirror stared back at him with blown pupils as a result from smelling Stiles. He didn’t understand why this was happening. What the hell was Stiles? He took deep breaths. He regretted complaining so much of Stiles’ rancid scent before. He would honestly prefer that to his scent now.

The best course of action to take would be to avoid Stiles at all costs, but seeing as his sister had befriended the idiot duo, minimal contact seemed unlikely.

Great, this was going to be a fun year.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Stiles threw the Quaffle across the stadium as hard as he could. Jackson caught the red ball and shot past the Ravenclaw Keeper. Stiles cheered in joy as the stands went crazy. He went back to flying as soon as Aiden stole the ball from the Ravenclaw Chaser. Aiden threw the ball at Stiles and he barely caught it as he avoided a Bludger coming his way. He spun like a drill avoiding another Ravenclaw Chaser to make his way to the goal post. He threw the ball back to Aiden, who threw it to Jackson and then Jackson shot to Stiles. Stiles flung the Quaffle and made a perfect shot in the middle post.

“Slytherin with another 10 points, leading the score 50-20.” The commentator called.

Stiles grinned, wiping the sweat off his forehead. He looked overhead and saw their Slytherin Captain slowly trailing above. All of them knew that he had already seen the snitch, but he was biding his time. Their Slytherin Captain had told them they needed to score at least 70 points to make up for the awful game with Gryffindor about a few months ago.

The match wasn’t that difficult. In fact, it felt like a great ego booster. They were flying circles around the Ravenclaw team. In a matter of minutes, they managed to score two more shots and just for the heck of it scored two more.

In a few more minutes, their Slytherin Captain caught the snitch and the entire Slytherin stands began to chant. The Slytherin team flew around the pitch flaunting their win until they had to come down.

After congratulations from their Slytherin Captain and a quick shower, Stiles left the locker room with Jackson, Danny, and Aiden.

“Next time,” Jackson began in his haughty voice. “Don’t let the other chaser steal the ball, Stilinski.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “It’s not like it matters, we won.”

“Mistakes like that are what cost us the Gryffindor game.”

“Well, I recall you taking the time to bask in the cheers of the fans instead of paying attention.” Stiles stated.

“He has a point,” Danny inputted.

“And you almost dropped the Quaffle because your hair was out of place,” Aiden added.

Jackson turned his rage on Aiden. “I did not! You were the one showing off for Lydia.”

“I think,” Danny interrupted. “You three have the worst attention span and you’re just so lucky to have an amazing Keeper like me.”

All three chasers guffawed at Danny’s arrogance, but he was right. The four continued to bicker back and forth but Stiles cut the conversation when he saw Scott and Cora waiting for him outside the lockers. “Hey, I’ll see you guys at the dorms.” Stiles said. The others waved him off without really caring as Stiles jogged over to the two.

Approaching, he noticed Derek was standing behind them. His arms were crossed over his chest as if he did not want to be there at all.

“Is something wrong?” Stiles asked, already fearing the worst.

“Yes.” Cora spoke up

“Not really,” Scott and Derek said at the same time.

Cora ignored them and Stiles looked in between the guys. Since when did Scott hang out with Derek?

“You were supposed to score twenty more points,” Cora stated.

“What?”

“ _Twenty. More. Points_.”

Stiles had no idea what she was talking about and his confusion showed on his face because Cora did an epic eye roll that Derek did behind her as well. At least he knew, where she got it from. He stole a glance at Derek who was tapping his foot impatiently and brought his Hufflepuff scarf closer to his nose. If anyone else saw the gesture, they would have just thought that Derek was shielding his face from the cold, but werewolves didn’t get cold, at least not that easily. And Stiles knew better. He was trying to shield his face from Stiles’ scent. Honestly, at least Cora had tact where she would occasionally twitch her nose, but at least that was as obvious she made her discomfort.

“I made a bet with Scott that Slytherin would get second place in the Quidditch Cup.” She said, distracting Stiles.

“What?!” Stiles shouted. “Wait what did _you_ bet then?”

Scott had the audacity to look sheepish. “Uh…third, behind Hufflepuff. _What?!_ You’re rivals.”

Stiles glared harder at him and turned back to Cora. “Thank you for having more faith in us than some supposed best friends. But why twenty more points?”

“Because I already made predictions on what each house will score and your team isn’t meeting the quota. Change that for your next game. All right? I am not going to lose to Scott.”

Stiles wanted to laugh, but he did not want to anger the young teenage werewolf. “What happens if you lose?”

“I have to serenade Finstock in the Great Hall.” Cora grumbled. Stiles laughed and clutched at Scott for support.

“Oh man, I’ve taught you well. What happens if you lose Scott?”

“I have to wear the girl uniform, which isn’t that bad, but when I told Cora that, she said I have to go all out, whatever that means and frankly I don’t want to find out.”

Stiles laughed. “All right, Cora how many more points does Slytherin need to meet your quota. I’ll tell the Captain right away.”

Cora smiled. “Awesome.”

“What! You can’t help her!” Scott exclaimed.

“You’re the one who put Slytherin in third place.”

“Cora…” Derek grumbled who had been awfully silent the entire time. “Can we go? You can tell him later.”

“You go back to the castle,” Cora waved him off.

“Cora.”

Stiles flinched when Derek’s eyes shined red for a few moments. Stiles still was not used to that color change. Scott had informed him that Derek was an Alpha now because he was of age, but Stiles found the shift in power unnerving. Ever since Derek became the Alpha, all he did was glare at Stiles and Stiles had no idea why.

“Ugh fine. You kill everything.” She groaned. “I’ll see you two later.”

Stiles waved Cora off and watched the two go. When he was positive the two were out of werewolf ear shot he turned to Scott. “Dude.”

“Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you guys in third-“

“No, not that. Since when do you hang out with Derek?”

“I don’t. I was hanging out with Cora cheering you on. Derek joined us midway through the game and kind of stayed. I wasn’t going to kick him out just for wanting to sit next to us.”

Stiles looked at Scott with a strange look and slowly began walking back to the castle. “Oh.”

“Why?”

“No reason.”

“You seem bothered each time anyone mentions Derek. I thought I told you to be nicer to him.”

“I am being nice to him. I didn’t say anything rude did I?”

“No, but you weren’t saying anything either.”

“Scott, look I know you want me to trust Derek but I can’t.”

“Why?”

“He just rubs me the wrong way. Plus, he was an utter douche about not helping you out. And you know, I asked Deaton about Derek’s new status. Derek should frickin be thrilled that you are a werewolf and accept you into his pack now that he’s an Alpha. It’s his instinct to. But there he is being all douchey sour, pounding his chest saying I’m the Alpha listen to me and my expressive eyebrows.”

Scott snorted. “You know, I don’t care if I’m in his pack or not. Why do you?”

Stiles rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I was doing research about werewolves again.”

“And?...”

“Being in a pack helps you find an anchor. You have better control.”

“Stiles.” Scott said sternly. “I don’t need Derek for that. I’m going to keep practicing and I’m gonna be in control. Just like last full moon.”

“But you were in control because I was there.” Stiles pointed out.

Stiles saw the worried crease in his friend’s face. They knew that Scott had control of his werewolf side around Stiles during the full moon, but what would it be like again without him? He didn’t want his friend to harm himself again.“How bout this,” Stiles began. “When Morrell and Deaton leave you tomorrow. I sneak in and make sure you are ok. How does that sound?”

“Yeah. Ok.”

“Great,” Stiles clasped a hand over his friend’s shoulder. “Let’s head back to the castle. I’m freezing and plus I’m craving a victory party for the awesome Quidditch match. Let’s see if the elves have anything.”

Stiles watched Scott roll his eyes but laugh nonetheless. It was going to be fine.

 

|~~***~~|

 

It was at the end of January where Derek fell back into the ritual of walking to the Whomping Willow with Cora and Scott. It felt strange without Deaton joining them, but Derek was happy to know that Deaton was taking his emissary duty strongly and was caring for his sister and uncle during the full moon. He only wished he had that same sway with Morrell.

“So _Alpha Derek_ ,” Morrell enunciated. “How are you feeling?”

“Good.” Derek replied and for once, it wasn’t a lie. He felt in complete control of his werewolf side. It was years since he had felt like this.

“I’m glad to hear that you are enjoying your new stolen abilities then.” She said condescendingly.

Derek growled low in his throat. He did not know how to prove himself to Morrell yet. Deaton had told her everything and Morrell was highly displeased by it all. She kept shooting comments whenever she felt the chance.

“Stolen?” Scott asked. “I thought Derek became an Alpha because he was of age.”

Morrell smiled. “Of course, that’s what I meant.”

Derek glared at the woman but Morrell ignored it and cast the spell to lock the Whomping Willow in place. “After you, _Alpha Derek_.”

Derek’s jaw tightened, but nodded heading down first. His sister jumped after him, then Scott, and finally Morrell. They walked down the tunnel in silence, but it was anything but quiet. He could hear Scott’s rapid heartbeat beside him. It was quicker and louder than it usually was on a full moon. He was nervous, but why? Scott had said he had full control now. He figured he would find out why Scott was nervous later.

He stole a glance behind and saw Scott unclenching and clenching his fists repeatedly. He wondered if it was a nervous tic. And then it finally hit Derek. Scott was the only one panicking. He stole another glance at his sister who was walking with a stoic face the entire way. His younger sister, usually held a bit of nervousness on each full moon, but she was completely calm tonight. She was in full control.

Without realizing it, all three of them were already in the Shrieking Shack and Morrell was drawing the mountain ash lines.

“You don’t need to set the mountain ash line between Scott and me,” Cora said. “I’m not going to attack him.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have my anchor,” Cora said confidently. “And Derek has control too so we won’t attack Scott when he transforms, plus it will help Scott. He won’t be burning himself by pushing against the barrier if it’s not there. We’ll take care of him.”

“Since when do you have an anchor?” Morrell asked skeptically.

Derek caught his sister’s gaze for a moment before she turned back to Morrell. “Since Derek became the Alpha. He’s my anchor. I trust him and get a strong feeling that he will be the Alpha to bring our small pack together.” She proudly said.

Derek watched Morrell attentively. Her face held creases along her forehead and then smoothed out after a long moment. She gave a long sigh and walked over to the doorway making sure the only mountain ash line in the room was secure. When she was done, she looked up and at Derek. “I hope you three have a good full moon. Take care of them—Derek.” She said sincerely and left them alone.

“What was that about?” Scott asked, sitting as far away from them as possible in a corner. His legs were pressed to his chest as his hands encircled his knees. Derek could see the small twitches along his arms, meaning that the full moon was slowly pulling Scott toward her.

Cora walked over to Scott and pressed a hand to his shoulder. Scott without thinking, growled, and attempted to bite her. Derek’s eyes flashed red and glared at Scott. Scott seemed to get some control and ease into Cora’s touch. “She was testing him.” Cora said.

“On?”

“Deaton talked to you about emissaries, right?”

Scott nodded. “A bit.”

“Well, long werewolf lines were assigned emissaries where their loyalties were drawn in ancient magic, meaning that emissaries have to follow the Alpha they were assigned to. So they have to follow them like a Beta has to follow their maker. When the emissary has children, the binding magic is already in them and they must continue following the werewolf line. Deaton’s line follows our Hale family from when it first began. Morrell is different. She’s actually Deaton’s half sister, so her family came from a different werewolf lineage.”

“Whose?”

Derek spoke up. “Deucalion’s.”

Scott was shocked. “What? Wait. How?”

“About thirteen years ago, Deucalion’s pack was murdered. Deucalion killed a few wizards trying to protect his pack and because he killed them he got sent to Azkaban.”

“So Deucalion isn’t bad then? He was protecting his pack.”

“Deucalion is still bad news. He’s went mad and I think that’s why Morrell left him. Our mother, took Morrell into our pack because she had nowhere else to go. But our mother had to prove herself worthy for Morrell to stay.” Derek finished.

“And now that Derek is the Alpha, he had to prove himself to her.” Cora added.

“I guess that makes sense,” Scott said. “But doesn’t that still mean she has a choice and go against what you say. I mean her loyalty isn’t drawn in blood to Derek like Deaton is.”

“That’s right,” Derek said impressed, maybe Scott wasn’t as big as an idiot as he looked.

He was about to mention, how he was glad that Morrell finally accepted him because she had been making his life a living hell in Herbology, but then the moon finally shown within the Shrieking Shack. Immediately, Scott pushed his head back against the wall and his features began to change. Derek stood up quickly and pulled Cora behind him. Derek let Scott get used to the sensation first, before exerting any force.

Scott huffed through his mouth several times until his werewolf features were finally prominent on his face. He gave one long howl and stood up shaking his entire body. Derek watched him carefully, being wary to any sudden movements. He knew if Scott attacked them, he would easily overpower Scott, but he didn’t want to provoke him either.

Derek made Cora stand on the other side of the room. She huffed loudly, but that was as far as her arguing went. She stomped to the other side and leaned against the wall, hands tucked into her pockets.

Scott was pacing back and forth slowly, taking in his surroundings and occasionally sniffing the air. Derek noticed that Scott was hesitantly sniffing around him, and Derek felt slightly impressed with how far werewolf instinct went when there was an Alpha present.

“Maybe you should talk to him?” Cora suggested behind him.

“No, let him get used to us first,” Derek said, looking to his sister and that was his first mistake. Paying too much attention to Scott dulled his other senses until he looked away because suddenly, the area smelled like bubbling magic and the moon all at once. Derek panicked. _No the idiot, he wouldn’t._

Before he could stop it, Derek saw Stiles jumping over the mountain ash line and then Scott rushing toward him.

“Stiles, run!” Derek shouted, rushing to protect Stiles.

But then the most strange thing happened. “ _ **Stop!**_ ” Stiles shouted, his voice quaking in fear. Derek smelled the bubbled magic spike in concentration at Stiles’ words. Scott stopped a foot away from Stiles and froze in front of his friend.

“ _ **Calm down**_.” Stiles said. Derek heard the clear tremor in Stiles’ voice, but his panic seemed to make Scott calm down because a few seconds later, Scott was reverting back into his human form.

“Stiles?” Scott rasped.

“You good Scott?” Stiles asked.

Scott nodded and then hugged Stiles.

Derek watched them carefully and was slightly distracted by Stiles’ scent returning to its normal potency. What the fuck was that? Was Stiles controlling Scott? And again why was he smelling so goddamn freaking good?!

“What the hell are you doing here?!” Cora shouted.

Stiles stuck his hands inside his robes and grinned. “Helping.”

“You could have been killed,” Cora insisted.

“I’m not. I’m telling you, I’m Scott’s anchor. He’s got full control when I’m around him.” Stiles said smugly.

Except Stiles wasn’t Scott’s anchor. Derek had never heard of an anchor that needed to be physically present to work. So what was going on? Was Stiles using magic without knowing? And what was wrong with his scent. He had asked Cora as inconspicuously as he could and she said that Stiles still smelled like goblin piss, but to him Stiles smelled like the moon, it was a beautiful and an addicting scent. His hands clenched to restrain himself from jumping on the younger teen.

“Still stupid. What if he had attacked you?” Cora kept shouting. She was now standing on the tip of her feet so she was in Stiles’ line of sight.

“He wouldn’t.”

“He could have,” Derek interrupted. “You got lucky.”

Stiles rolled his eyes dramatically. Derek was so distracted by his scent that it took him a moment to realize that Stiles was mimicking him. Stiles then grabbed Cora and Scott by their forearms and pulled them to the center of the room. Stiles pulled the two down and from his bag, that Derek barely noticed he had, pulled out a board and a deck of cards for exploding snap.

“C’mon we have all night.” Stiles said, while he shuffled the cards.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Cora said.

“What? Scared to lose?” Stiles teased.

“Ha!” Cora guffawed. “You wish. Loser has to drink Scott’s next failed potion.”

Scott gave her a half-hearted glare. “Then prepare yourself, Cora because I’m the master at exploding snap.”

Derek watched the three go into an intense vigorous game of exploding snap. He wasn’t sure who was winning as five minutes in; all three of them had blackened faces and smoke colored fingers. He did know, Cora was not getting the results she wanted because she kept pulling at Scott’s ear, trying to get him to lose.

Derek sighed and rested his head against the wall, tuning them out. He settled on just basking in the glow of the full moon and trying to ignore Stiles’ scent, it was difficult, but at the same time, it was proving to be a great training exercise.

“Ha! I win!” Scott cheered after a good twenty minutes later.

“No fair,” Stiles said, throwing the cards in the pile. “You two have werewolf reflexes.” He leaned back and waited for Scott to count the total points.

“All right, Cora 86 points, Stiles 87, and me 93 points. Ha suck it Cora!” Scott cheered.

“What? How did Stiles get higher than me?”

“He put higher pointed cards and you put more cards.” Scott said grabbing the entire deck and stacking it together.

“No fair.”

“At least you won’t die from the potion.” Stiles grinned. “Werewolf healing abilities will come in handy when you’re chugging a potion that looks like a [Bundimun](http://i.imgur.com/cwMF9Rn.jpg).”

Cora scrunched her nose in distaste, but conceded her defeat to the other boys. Derek knew better though, she was going to get out of it one way or another, Derek bit the inside of his cheek to stop smirking.

“Now what?” Scott asked.

Stiles smiled and dug inside the bag he brought. Derek was slightly curious by the fact that Stiles’ arm disappeared within the whole bag, the idiot must have cast an extending charm on it. After digging around, he finally pulled out a multitude of items.

“Ok, here are some snacks I sneaked from the Great Hall and a few treats from Honeydukes. A wizards’ chessboard, a patented daydream box, a screaming yo yo, and a Fanged Frisbee.”

“Fanged Frisbees are forbidden,” Derek said without thinking. “I should confiscate that.”

Stiles shoved the Frisbee back into his bag. “Frisbee? Who said anything about that?”

Derek rolled his eyes and extended his hand. Even though he was trapped in the Shrieking Shack until the moon went down, he was not going to abandon his prefect duties. Stiles sighed and took the Frisbee out again. He threw it toward Derek and Derek caught the green Frisbee right as it snapped at him. He dropped the Frisbee onto his lap and sucked his thumb. The gash healed in a matter of seconds but still stung.

“Sorry,” Stiles said. Derek narrowed his eyes at the fourteen year old as he heard the small blip in his heartbeat. _The liar._

“Yeah, do you have anything that’s not annoying?” Cora said, lifting the screaming yo yo with caution.

“Sorry, I did bring your bags though.” Stiles said, riffling through the bag again and pulling out Scott and Cora’s backpack.

“How did you get into Gryffindor Tower?” Cora asked.

“Scott gives me the password.”

“The password changed two nights ago; I didn’t tell you the new one.”

Stiles shrugged. “Passwords are easy. The Gryffindor one follows a pattern of what it’s going to change to since Finstock is too lazy to come up with one. Wasn’t that hard to figure it out.” The password two months ago was Augrey, last month’s was Jarvey, and this month is Snidget. Augreys are rated with a two in terms of danger in the Beast book, Jarvey’s with a three, a Snidget with a four.”

“There are a bunch of creatures that could be the password,” Cora said, as she pulled out her Charms book. Derek remembered that she still had an essay for that class.

Derek sat up and looked at Stiles with curiosity though, wondering how he had found the pattern as well.  

“No duh. The password follows a one, nine pattern. Increase the danger by one rating, skip nine in the letter. A to J is nine spaces. But then getting to S, there are three other animals that fit into the four rating, but then if you think about it the password three months ago was Lepus which is Latin for rabbit. Rabbit has a one rating but it’s a nonflying creature. Flying, not flying, flying. Next month’s password will be skip nine, letter B, rating up one to a five, and then a non-flying creature the password will be Basilisk or Banshee. Most likely Banshee since a Basilisk is a snake and I don’t think a snake will be a Gryffindor password….What?”

Derek looked at Stiles with disbelief. How was the kid not in Ravenclaw?

“Crazy right?” Scott said with a smile. “He can do all that, but not turn in a simple essay.” Ah, that’s why.

“So how did you get my bag then? Boys aren’t allowed in the girls dormitories. Are you going to tell me there is a pattern on the stairs that let you go up?” She pulled out parchment and used the other books in her bag to lay it flat.

“Psh no that’s stupid. I just asked Danielle Rhodes if she could get it.”

“I don’t what scares me more. The fact that you can get the password or that no one even questions anymore why a Slytherin is asking for things in the Gryffindor common room.” Cora said.

“You can blame Scott for both of them.”

“I like to think I’m creating House Unity.” Scott grinned. “Or filling Finstock’s head with ideas that Stiles and I are so gay for each other.”

Derek’s raised an eyebrow at that but Cora began laughing. “Oh my god, don’t remind me! That was hilarious!”

“Haha,” Stiles said and without looking at them, Derek could hear the weird blip in his heart. He was uncomfortable. That was a weird emotion on the hyperactive teen. Derek shook his head and closed his eyes, leaning his head on the wall again while he crossed his arms and legs. It was weird knowing what was an unusual emotion on Stiles to begin with.

“So what, just homework then?” Scott said, looking at Cora as she was already starting.

Derek could hear Stiles groan. “Wizards’ Chess? Then homework?”

“Sure.”

Derek sighed in relief. Wizards’ Chess was much quieter than Exploding Snap. Derek settled as comfortably as he could on the floor and decided to sleep instead—he had the whole night.

When Derek awoke several hours later, his sister was nudging him awake. He noticed that Stiles was gone and any evidence that he was here was removed. “Morrell’s here.” Cora said.

Derek nodded and stood up. He stretched his limbs and saw that Morrell was trying to wake Scott. The teen jumped in a stupor looking around and gave Morrell a goofy sleepy smile.

Morrell then walked over to him, when Derek finally stood up. “Thank you for looking after them, Derek. I look forward to being your emissary.” She said and began walking toward the doorway when the other two seemed ready to go. “And if you ever need help in choosing candidates, might I recommend Hufflepuff. You will be surprised with what you’ll find.”

“Wait? You’re condoning this?”

Morrell smiled. “I trust that you will eliminate the threat.” She said. “Coming?” Derek nodded.

“What was that about?” Scott asked, ruffling his hair into some semblance of normal.

“Nothing.” Derek said and followed Morrell outside. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review readers.
> 
> I love all the feedback I am getting on this story so much. And c'mon guys! Just one more kudo to make 200!
> 
> Hope you like Derek reacting Stiles. There will be more so stay tuned.


	14. Son of Pandia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek, Cora, Scott, and Stiles deal with a herd of centaurs. Also, Stiles learns a little about himself.

"What if I hurt someone?" Scott asked for what felt like the hundredth time. Stiles had to restrain himself from hexing his best friend.

"You're not going to hurt anyone. You have me and that's why I brought my broom to keep up with you."

Stiles could still see the uncertainty in Scott's large brown eyes. "C'mon Scott. We saw what it was like during the full moon. You got it under control. Plus, where's that heroic idiotic Gryffindor nature?"

"Hey! You can't use that against me." Scott's tone suggested he was wavering though.

"Fine." Stiles shrugged and turned back toward the castle. "I'm not a douche like Jackson. I won't force you. It won't be fair. We'll just have to figure out another way for you to release all that energy. We'll probably have to do some research, a lot of research, and I mean a lot of research to find a new way to release all that jittery feeling you have. C'mon. Let's go back, it's freezing out here." He gave Scott a smile. They began walking a few steps before Scott stopped.

"No, you're right. Let's do this."

Stiles' face lit up with mischief. "Awe-some!" He cheered. Both of them began walking into the Forbidden Forest again, but Scott halted once more.

"You-you-FREAKING SLYTHERIN!" Scott shouted. "You manipulated me! You know I hate doing research!

Stiles guffawed, tugging at Scott's robe. "What are you talking about? C'mon, let's do this before the whole school wakes up."

It was early on Saturday morning, the sun was not due to come up until another one or two hours, giving Stiles and Scott the perfect opportunity to do as they pleased. Ever since Cora had made the comment that Scott needed to go out on runs, both had been antsy to try it since school resumed. And after finally having a weekend free that was not piled with homework, Quidditch practice, or Dueling Club—Scott and Stiles took the first chance of freedom.

They walked further into the forest, mindful that no one would be able to see them. At first, they had been wary of coming so deep into the Forbidden Forest as the staff of Hogwarts loved to remind them that several dangerous creatures resided in there, but after careful consideration they figured no creature would be stupid enough to come into contact with a werewolf. So after, a good ten minute walk, Stiles mounted his broom. He tugged his Slytherin scarf tighter around his neck, mindful it would not fall off and pulled his robes tighter around himself. "Ready?" He asked.

Scott nodded and forced the werewolf to rise. It was the first time, Stiles had seen Scott willingly draw the form out. It was strange. He had always made a clear distinction between Scott and the werewolf, but Stiles for some reason forced himself to connect the two forms in his mind.

And after sorting them quickly, Stiles actually felt ok with it. Rectifying the disconnection was a key part to Stiles in accepting his friend completely. To accept werewolves completely. So there he stood, and watched Scott change his entire form into the thing he used to be so frightened about. The claws, fur, and pointy ears no longer were marks of hostility but just a part of Scott that made Scott—Scott.

Stiles finally smiled, raising a thumb in acceptance. “Ok. Scott, go!”

Laughing at the impressing speed Scott took off, Stiles mounted his broom more comfortably flying after him.

It was a bit difficult maneuvering through all the branches that encompassed the entire forest. Stiles' dragonhide gloves kept his hands free of scratches, but Stiles was positive that a few branches had nicked his face, if the sting was anything to go by. But, after running into four trees face first and nearly falling off his broom, Stiles found his rhythm. Stiles felt a rush at flying in the frigid February air and could only imagine how Scott must have felt as he jumped, swung, and flipped through the maze of trees. After a good fifteen or so minutes though, Scott abruptly stopped causing Stiles to fall of his broom as he pulled it back too harshly. Stiles groaned as the icy ground hit his backbone.

"Scott?" Stiles whined, as he slowly stood up.

Scott sniffed the air, his nostrils flaring. Before Stiles, realized what was going on Scott took off running. "Scott! Shit!" Stiles looked around for his broom and found it a few feet away. He mounted the broom and went after his friend. Stiles noticed that they were approaching the edge of the Hogwarts wards and Stiles was really hoping that Scott wasn't going to do something stupid.

When Scott finally stopped running, Stiles finally understood the scent that had caught his attention. A few feet away from them, he could see Cora and Derek Hale. Cora was wearing muggle workout clothes, while Derek opted to only wear black sweats in the frigid cold. Both of them though were covered in a sheen line of sweat. Stiles didn't know how to react upon seeing them.

He watched Cora take a swipe at Derek and Derek dodged the attack by crouching low to the ground, Cora took the initiative to knee her brother in the jaw. Everyone heard the sickening crack, but only Stiles and Scott flinched. Derek fell to the floor and massaged his jaw where it cracked back together.

"You got distracted, what happened?" Cora asked, extending an arm to lift her older brother.

Derek stood up and pointed to Scott and Stiles. Stiles waved awkwardly for intruding and dismounted his broom safely.

"Are you guys training?" Scott questioned, turning human. "Can I join?"

"Seriously?! Cora just broke grumpster's jaw, which I'll give her major props for, but really you want to go through that!" Stiles exclaimed.

Scott nodded while Cora sighed in exasperation. “Sure, why not.”

"No." Derek said quickly.

Cora rolled her eyes. "All right, when you get over yourself Derek, maybe I'll listen. C'mon Scott."

"Cora, I said no." Stiles was unnerved by Derek's harsh tone.

Cora was unfazed. "Derek please, remember that your Alpha status does not grant you the right to boss me around just because you don't like Scott for whatever reason, Ok? And please remember that you are my Alpha and not my maker, which means I do have a choice in whether I listen to you or not. Got that? Good? All right, Scott get ready to get your ass kicked."

"Wait," Stiles interrupted, as Scott jogged over to Cora. "Is that really how it works? Your maker can make you do anything, like an _Imperius_ curse?"

"Pretty much. Unless the Beta has a strong will, but that's pretty rare." Cora said, swinging her arms back and forth. She walked over to Scott and began to instruct him how his stance should be. Stiles, however, was not happy with that answer at all.

"So if Deucalion ever decides to come back to Hogwarts and orders Scott to kill someone, he has to do it?!" Stiles shouted.

Derek who had already moved out of Cora's way was sitting beside a tree, answered. "Deucalion isn't Scott's maker." Scott and Stiles swiftly turned toward the Hufflepuff. Stiles could already guess by Derek's expression—which on any other point in time would have been hilarious—he was not supposed to say that.

"Then who turned me?" Scott asked, stepping away from Cora.

When Derek didn't say a word, Scott and Stiles turned toward Cora who at least looked guilty. After a moment, Cora sighed. "Um our Uncle Peter."

"What?!" Both Scott and Stiles screeched.

"You didn't think to tell me!" Scott shouted.

"In our defense, we only recently found out too." Cora said.

"When?"

“Recently.”

_“When?!”_

"—Since the holiday break."

"It's February," Scott retorted.

"Look, it's not important our uncle was just doing things without thinking properly. Let's just get to training." Cora diverted.

Scott was not buying it. "Not important! I think I deserve to know that your freaking uncle attacked and bit me."

Stiles let Scott revert to his werewolf form. The Hales obviously had some explaining to do and if violence got them answers, then what the hell, but then suddenly, Scott calmed down on his own and looked to Derek. "Wait, only Alphas can turn people. Your uncle was an Alpha?! I thought you said your sister was! What the hell is going on?" Scott asked his voice seething on rage. He clenched his jaw and balled his fists. "Shit. That's what that the blip in your heartbeat meant on the train. You're lying. You didn't come of age to be an Alpha. You killed your uncle!"

Derek stood up quickly and was already in Scott's face, less than an inch away. "I didn't kill my uncle." He seethed. "He attacked my sister. I merely returned the favor."

"I thought you had to kill an Alpha to turn into one," Stiles said, turning to Cora.

She shook her head. "There's a spell that can transfer the power, but leaves the ex-Alpha basically brain dead."

"That's what Deaton is doing. He's taking care of your uncle and sister." Scott said.

If this situation did not call for major seriousness, Stiles would have high fived his best friend for figuring this out on his own, but it was Stiles, so he did it anyway. Stiles hadn't even thought about any of this.

Derek stepped away from Scott. Scott surprisingly didn't pursue Derek and instead was deep in thought. "You didn't just become an Alpha to avenge your sister—last month, Morrell said something about candidates what did she mean?" He asked with trepidation.

Stiles' eyes opened wide. He knew very well about euphemisms, Slytherins thrived on them to not get in trouble. "You're turning people at Hogwarts!" Stiles accused.

"I'm not." Derek countered childishly.

"Not yet." Cora muttered, but they all heard her well. Stiles and Scott turned to her. "Don't look at me. It's not my plan, it's Derek's, ask him."

Derek licked his lips and avoided the other's looks, but after a long sigh he turned to Scott. "You've heard about Deucalion in the papers already. Short version, we're going to stop him."

"We're? By we are you mean?" Scott asked.

"Myself, Cora, Deaton, Morrell, and a few candidates."

"My dad's already working on the case." Stiles said. "Why are _you_ getting involved?"

"You're dad's being incompetent." Derek shrugged.

Stiles was shocked on how fast he acted. He immediately pulled out his wand, and fired the first spell he could think of. Thankfully, for Derek, Stiles forgot that most spells did not work well on werewolves so the spell merely caused Derek to stumble back a few steps. However, this didn't stop Stiles. No one insulted his father. He fired several spells, each hitting Derek right on the chest. It wasn't until Scott was holding him back and forcefully removing his wand that Stiles stopped.

"Don't you dare say that about my dad!" Stiles shouted, face red. He took one long glare at Derek before swiping back his wand. He stuck in back in his robes with a force that was unnecessary.

Derek looked away from him as if he could care less and only turned back to them when Scott asked, "Why didn't you tell us about this before?"

"You're incompetent too. Would have gotten in the way."

"And whose is fault is that! You're not helping me at all!"

Derek made a face of distaste, "Why would I help you? You can't control yourself—even when you were human for that matter, your anchor is useless, you have piss poor reflexes even as a werewolf, and you aren't smart. Do you want me to continue, Scott?"

Scott's eyes flickered their Beta yellow right before he launched at Derek. Derek grounded his stance and grabbed Scott by the collar of shirt and pinned him to the closest tree. He slammed Scott against the tree several times, until Scott was bleary eyed, and then threw him into the middle of the clearing.

Stiles went running toward his friend, but Cora snuck her arms underneath Stiles'. "You do not want to get in between two werewolves." She warned.

Stiles didn't care. He tried to pull out of her hold, but she was too strong. "Cora, fuck come on, at least let me get my wand." He shouted, right as Scott barely rolled out of the way as Derek came at him to stomp onto his neck. Scott quickly got up and appeared behind Derek, but Derek turned faster. Scott still went for the opening and slashed Derek's midriff in one long swipe.

Derek growled lowly in his throat and with his left hand grabbed Scott from the back of his head. With his right elbow, Derek repeatedly hit Scott across the nose, causing the younger teen to begin bleeding. Derek let him go and pushed him back roughly, thinking that settled it. However, that only angered Scott more. Scott dashed to the right, disappearing into the thick dark forest.

Cora finally released Stiles. The forest was silent as Scott stalked Derek.

"Scott!" Stiles shouted, looking around all directions. "C'mon man!"

Derek seemed to know where he was though because when Scott appeared again, Derek caught Scott at his elbow and waist and slammed him again into another tree.

Scott groaned, Derek let go of him for just a second, giving Scott enough time to move out of the way as Derek tried to punch him with his elbow again. Scott saw another opening and clawed at Derek. It barely grazed against Derek's shoulder as he tumbled out of the way. Scott took a step forward to try again, but Derek was growing annoyed, judging by the loud growl. He went behind Scott and grabbed him by his long hair and the back of his jeans. Without remorse or hesitation, Derek slammed him into the ground.

Cora and Stiles gasped. Stiles quickly pulled out his wand and racked his brain of what he knew about werewolves. His brain tried to go quicker as a loud crack echoed the forest. That was most likely Scott's jaw. Derek lifted Scott into the air again— _Fire_. Fire spells harmed werewolves. " _Incendi_ —"

Stiles paused for a fraction, as Cora ran past him. She pulled Derek back forcefully, trying to make him let go of Scott. Derek however, only swiped one arm and pushed her to the side. Cora fell to the ground and so did Scott. Scott luckily, rolled on the ground and let out a menacing roar that was just as loud as Derek's.

Scott began running toward Derek again, but then several heavy footsteps caused Scott to pause. Everyone turned around for the source of the noise and in a matter of seconds about twelve centaurs surrounded them, causing the Hogwarts students to come close together. Already, Stiles noticed that Derek and Scott had both turned to their humans form and were breathing heavily as they looked at the centaurs around them.

Stiles had never seen centaurs before and up to this point he was glad he never had. Reading about them was much different. The centaurs were large in stature and all carried harsh faces, plus a menacing bow strapped across their backs disproved in their readings that centaurs were peaceful creatures.

"Werewolves?" One of the centaurs spoke with gray line of fur across his navel down to the rest of his dark brown torso. "Werewolves should know better than to trespass on another’s land."

Stiles saw that this centaur was the biggest one and most likely the leader of the herd. No one spoke though and the centaur drew near. The steady rhythm of his hoofs crunching against the ground, pricked at Stiles’ ears. "Our herd has recently given birth to a new generation of centaurs. We would appreciate it, if you Alpha, took your pack and left."

"Only the girl is part of my pack." Derek answered.

"I do not care for the semantics of werewolf dynamics. Take them and go." The centaur spoke roughly.

Surprisingly, everyone listened. Derek and Cora slowly walked over to their bags and retreated to Stiles and Scott. Scott, however, turned back and approached the largest centaur.

_What in Merlin's name was he doing?_

"I am truly sorry for disturbing your pack—uh herd, I mean," Scott said and gave a slight bow. Stiles was shocked that Scott remembered from their third year that bowing was a sign of respect to centaurs. "It was my fault that we caused such a commotion. It will not happen again. I am truly sorry for entering your grounds. I wish the best to you and the new members of the herd."

The large centaur smiled graciously. "Thank you, young werewolf. Perhaps your Alpha could learn respect from you."

Stiles froze. Oh, that comment was not going to sit well with Derek and just to prove Stiles, Derek roared and stomped to the largest centaur. The other centaurs all drew their bows and pointed their arrows at Derek. "Centaurs should know better than to meddle with the affairs of another pack." Derek warned.

"I was not meddling. It would not be wise to meddle with a werewolf pack. They are quick to anger and driven by inferior animal instinct."

Derek roared again and crouched low to pounce on the centaur, but without hesitation, a centaur shot at Derek. The bow hit Derek's right shoulder and Derek crumpled to the floor in pain. Cora tried to rush forward, but the other centaurs redirected their bows in Cora's direction. Cora froze.

This was not going to end well for any of them. "Stop." Stiles said with a slight panic in his voice. He hated how it cracked a bit too. He lifted his arm in a sign of surrender and walked to Derek. The centaurs followed him with his bows. "Derek is an idiot. Let us go and we promise we shall never return."

The centaurs did not lower their guard. "Why should we listen to a human?" A centaur on Stiles' right spoke.

The leader however, rose his right hand causing the centaurs to lower their bows. "Because he is _her_ child." The large centaur ordered. "Leave them be." The large centaur turned his back and retreated deeper into the forest. The other centaurs seemed reluctant but did not disobey their leader.

When they left, Cora ran to Derek's side and pulled the arrow out of his shoulder. Derek growled and clutched his shoulder that was now a nasty black. "You idiot!" Cora hissed. She grabbed him until he was on his knees. "You good?"

Derek clenched his jaw and everyone took that as an ok.

Cora turned to Stiles and mouthed a thank you. Stiles nodded.

From there, all of them walked back to the castle without saying anything.

Around lunchtime, Scott and Stiles were already ready to go back to their dormitories and sleep for a good ten hours. The early morning events finally caught up with them and they could barely find the strength to lift their spoons to eat their warm clam chowder. Stiles drank his soup while he chewed on a loaf of bread. He could not believe everything that Derek was doing. He half-heartedly wanted to report him to his father, just for lying to them, but then he would have to reveal his entire involvement to this situation and he did not want anything happening to Scott or even Derek, as much as he did not like him. He looked over at his friend and saw that he was just swirling his soup around his bowl. The knowledge of Derek's plan and the full moon tonight must have been affecting him worse than usual. He made a mental note to bring something fun for tonight's full moon when he snuck into the Shrieking Shack. Scott would need it for being cooped up with Derek all those hours.

"Mr. Stilinski?"

Stiles turned around with part of his bread sticking out of his mouth and swallowed hastily when he saw Morrell behind him. _Great Salazar_ , he didn't even know what to think about her. She was condoning Derek's plan and even gave Derek her house on a silver platter to convert students. How could she do that? Couldn't she see that Scott suffered being a werewolf, why put more people under that pain.

"Yeah?"

"Let's speak in private." Stiles glanced over at Scott who had turned to look at them too. "Mr. McCall can come as well, but you can trust it will be very quick."

Stiles nodded and clasped his friend's shoulder, telling him he would back soon. The two walked out of the Great Hall and into a random classroom. Morrell locked the door with a spell and cast a silencing charm around the room. Stiles raised a brow.

"Precaution." She smiled.

Stiles nodded awkwardly. "What's going on?"

"Well tonight Allan needs a bit of help with a potion. There's a certain strain of wolfsbane in Wales that can only be collected during a full moon and he needs me to go get it because the same potion requires him to stir it with selune spoon under full moon conditions. So he can't very well leave. So I'm going to put you under the task of setting the mountain ash line tonight."

"Ok." Stiles said.

"Thank you, I'll be there in the morning to make sure they're ok."

Stiles nodded and then crosses his arms over his chest. "So...is the potion for Derek's sick sister or catatonic uncle?"

Morrell paused, amused. "Derek told you?"

"Scott figured it out."

"Well then yes, the potion is for both of them. Should speed up the healing process."

"Hmm...glad to know you're helping Derek."

"I was under the impression you weren't fond of each other."

"Sarcasm, professor. Because I don't think anyone would happy to know that you are helping Derek."

Morrell smiled. "Ah, you know about Derek's plan then?"

"Not all of it, but I know he wants to turn people, specifically students to stop Deucalion."

"I think you have misconception about lycanthropy, Mr. Stilinski, can't blame you though. You've been socialized since you were born that werewolves are bad, am I correct? Your father and mother dealt with a werewolf case during that time. Deucalion’s case specifically, if memory serves right. And then taking into account other social factors, the Daily Prophet, books all say the same thing. The werewolf bite is a curse. It's not, Mr. Stilinski. It's a gift, you're friend Mr. McCall should be grateful. He will come to be though when he can control himself entirely. And the students that Derek deems acceptable to turn, will see it that way as well."

"I know werewolves aren’t bad, it’s the bite that’s the problem. It’s a long process of getting control. Why put students through that torture? And what if Derek kills them. I'm just not buying what you’re saying."

"And in time, you will come to see it as well." She pulled out her wand and removed the charms on the room and the door. "I will place a bag of mountain ash by the Whomping Willow." Stiles nodded. "Good, I'll be heading out now."

Stiles watched Morrell leave the empty classroom and took a few moments to gather his thoughts before heading back to the Great Hall. He sat next to Scott and resumed eating his meal.

"What was that about?" He asked.

"Not much. She just wanted me to set up for you guys tonight. She needs to do some errands."

"Oh—Hey have you seen Cora anywhere."

"No. Why?"

Scott pushed his bowl to the side and crossed his arms on the table. "I haven't seen her since we went back into the castle. She put her things in her room and just left."

"Maybe she's plotting evil deeds with Derek Hale. _What?!_ Ok maybe she's not planning evil deeds. But she is probably with her brother."

Scott looked over his shoulder toward the Hufflepuff table. "But where? I doubt they're training again after our run-in with the centaurs."

"Who cares?"

"Oh c'mon, Stiles don't be that way. We like Cora. I'm just worried."

"Why?"

"Cause she's with her brother and what if they are already starting to turn people." Scott staged whispered.

Stiles turned to the Hufflepuff table. Scott had a point. They had vowed when coming back into the castle that they wouldn't let Derek Hale turn anyone but it was hard to keep an eye on him. He never was where students were meant to be. "I doubt they would do it without Morrell or Deaton at Hogwarts. They need them if anything goes wrong."

"You're right. Still that leaves the question of where they are at."

"We'll see them during the full moon, don't worry about it. Anyway, I promised Danny that we would work on our Astronomy homework together so I'll see you later tonight.

Stiles waved off Scott and began heading to the Slytherin dormitories. Leaving the Great Hall and down the staircase to the dungeon, Stiles ran into Jackson.

"What's up with your face?" Jackson asked, prodding Stiles cheek.

Stiles flicked him off, when he felt an ache. He truthfully had forgotten that he had several scratches on his face from flying in the Forbidden Forest. "Uh tripped on the moving staircase." Stiles lied.

Jackson rolled his eyes. "Idiot. Anyway, Danny told me to tell you he wasn't feeling well so he can't do the study session with you."

"Is he ok?"

"Yeah, just the Wizard Flu, he's in the Hospital Wing right now and I was just going to pick him up to take him back to the dorms."

Stiles nodded. He sort of forgot that Jackson had a small soft side for Danny and it usually brought out his better qualities. "Well hope he feels better." Stiles said honestly.

Jackson walked off without a single goodbye leaving Stiles at the stairs. He contemplated on

what to do. He finally decided to head to Slytherin dorms to go sleep. He would need his strength for the long night. He pulled open the door to his room and saw it was empty. He figured that Aiden was probably somewhere with Lydia—something he really did not want to think about and Matt was probably out taking pictures or something. He went to his bed and fell face first. He pulled his pillow close to his face and closed his eyes.

When Stiles awoke he realized he had formed a rather large pool of drool on his pillow. He groggily got up and wiped the side of his mouth. When he sat up he realized that both Jackson and Danny were in the room. Danny was fast asleep all tucked in, while Jackson was reading his DADA book. Without alerting the other two, Stiles looked at his Batman watch that Erica had given him and checked the time. It was almost going to be five. _Shit_ —he had to go meet the others. He rubbed his eyes for a long moment and headed to the bathroom to wake up and relieve himself. He splashed some water on his face and checked the scratches on his face. The scratches were shallow and most of them had already scabbed. It wasn't anything to worry about. He pulled his pendant out of his shirt and looked at it. The red gem on top was pulsing, meaning that the full moon was most likely going to rise in an hour or so. Placing the pendant back inside, he went back to his room and looked for his warmest coat and gloves.

"Where are you going?" Jackson asked, setting his book on his lap. "Not that I care." He added.

"Wouldn't dream of you caring Jackson," Stiles smiled. He grabbed the bag he used last month and began shoving with random stuff in his trunk. "Going to the Gryffindor Tower for the night." Stiles informed anyway and began walking out.

He headed toward the Entrance Hall and toward the Whomping Willow where he had told Scott he would meet them. He already saw Cora and Scott there with both of their bags. "Where's Derek?" Stiles asked.

Cora bit her lip. "I don't know. He's been hiding from me the entire day. I’ve been trying to stalk him but he hasn’t—" She stopped and sniffed the air. Her head snapped to the right and she saw Derek limping toward them. Cora's eyes bulged out and she ran toward her brother. Derek fell into his sister's arms. Stiles looked at the pair and jogged over to them with Scott behind his trail.

"What's going on?" Scott asked.

Cora though was sniffing Derek everywhere, her nostrils flared a few seconds later and she was already pulling at Derek's robes. She got his shirt and ripped the top of it with her claws, showing a large black gash on his shoulder. Cora touched it slightly and Derek snarled in her direction, his fangs protruding from his lips and eyes turning red.

"What's happening?" Scott asked again.

"Wolfsbane," Cora whispered, lifting her brother to his feet. She stood up, grabbed her brother by his arm, and flung him over her back. "Let's get inside. The full moon is coming out."

Stiles nodded furiously and ran back to the Whomping Willow. He cast the spell to stop the tree and watched Cora walk over to the hole. "Scott you go first, I'm going to hand you Derek."

Scott slipped into the hole and Cora gently pushed her brother through.

"I got him!"

Cora jumped next and Stiles followed.

"What's with the wolfsbane?" Stiles asked as Derek groaned.

Cora took back her brother and began heading down the long tunnel.

"Centaurs...arrow." Derek hissed. "Had wolfsbane."

"Ok, I'm going to run ahead and put Derek somewhere he can rest, hurry up." Cora said and then ran off.

"C'mon." Scott said and crouched low. Stiles groaned, but climbed on his friend's back. It was a bit awkward as Stiles was taller than Scott, but Scott merely held onto the back of his thighs and ran. When Scott got there, Cora had pulled out her wand and had already transfigured several things in the room. She made a small cot with a few blankets and Derek was sprawled on top of them panting.

"Dude, is he dying?" Stiles asked, jumping off Scott.

Cora didn't reply. She pulled out a few pieces of parchment from her bag and pulled out her wand where she made it into a small bowl. " _Augementi_." She cast. The bowl filled with water and Cora was already cleaning Derek's wound. He tried to pull away as Cora cleaned the wound. "Shit!" She shouted, when she saw how bad the wound really was. "Why the fuck didn't you gt help earlier?" Cora yelled.

Derek hissed as Cora dabbed his wound clean. He tried to get out of her grasp but then Cora instructed Scott to hold him down. "And face you yelling at me more, no thank you."

"You fucking idiot." Cora cleaned the wound again as black blood began appearing again.

“Was trying to find the wolfsbane strain on my own. Went to the greenhouse. None of them worked.”

“Again, I have an idiot for a brother.” She cleaned the wound again as black goo oozed down his arm.

"Oh that’s disgusting,” Stiles groaned, retching in his mouth. “Cora, is he dying?!" Stiles asked again.

"Yes." Cora said. "We need to find the wolfsbane that did this to him."

"Need to go find centaurs."  Derek panted.

Stiles rolled his eyes "Why should we help you?" Stiles spat. Thinking about it, this was a perfect way of stopping Derek wreaking havoc all across Hogwarts.

"Because you need me." Derek said.

"Ha, you bet your werewolf ass I don't!"

"Stiles!" Cora shouted.

"What? I'm sorry but your brother deserves this!"

He walked away from the group and walked to entrance of the Shrieking Shack. He could see the full moon peeking through and he was the only one paying enough attention to realize there were other matters at hand that were more important—like making sure three werewolves weren't going to escape and kill innocents. He set the moutain ash lines quickly. When he returned, Derek was covered in sweat. And honestly, it was disgusting and disturbing. He was drenching his robes and the blankets around him.

"Help me or I'll rip your throat out—with my teeth." Derek threatened.

Stiles laughed, "Not in your condition you're not!"

Derek growled and with the last bit of his strength, shot up and launched at Stiles. Both of them fell onto the ground and Stiles shrieked  as he felt Derek's fangs prick at the skin of his neck. It wasn't hard enough to break skin or even bruise but the warning was loud and clear. "Oh Merlin, oh please don't eat me..I take it back. I take it back. Please don’t bite." Stiles whined. But then, Derek let go and collapsed on top of him, where immediately, Derek began to bury his nose in his neck and sniff. And sniff. And sniff. What the fuck?

"Uh..." Stiles trailed when Derek let a out an exhale of relief.

Cora groaned and grabbed Derek until she made him lie back on the cot. "Please, Stiles. We need to go now or otherwise Derek will die."

"Why can't we just call Deaton or Morrell."

"There's no time. By then the infection would have reached my heart and I'll be dead." Derek said and then groaned. The black veins in his body were trailing fast and already spread across his collarbone and neck.

"Frankly, I don't see a problem with that." Stiles admitted.

"STILES!" Cora and Scott shouted in tandem.

But Stiles wasn’t deterred. He wasn’t going to help the Hufflepuff. But then he took one long long at Derek and was flooded with thoughts of his mother. When she had been in her sick bed, she didn’t look that much different from Derek. Sweaty skin, difficulty breathing, almost losing consciousness, it brought back images that Stiles tried to repress. He couldn’t help his mother no matter how hard he tried, there was no cure for her. But he knew he could help Derek. And he also knew that his mother would frown upon him if she found out that Stiles was letting this happen. He had to help Derek. More for the reason, that Stiles swore he wasn’t going to let anyone die anymore.

"Ugh fuck fine, but I swear Derek you owe me!" Stiles shouted. "C'mon Scott let's go."

"No!" Cora stood up. "I'm faster than Scott, I'll go with you."

"Is that really safe—" Stiles protest went ignored as Cora was already dragging him toward the exit.

“Cut the line.”

“Cora.”

“Stiles.”

Stiles couldn’t fight with her if he tried. He broke the line and reset it, right before Cora manhandled him and flung him over her back. Quickly she made it into the forest and was running as fast she could. She ran back into the clearing where they encroached on the centaurs property and began to shout.

"Hey!" She screamed at the top of her lungs. "Centaurs!"

"Do you really think that's a good idea? What if one shoots you too?"

Stiles' questioned was answered as they heard large heavy footsteps again and the same centaurs approached again. Their faces were much meaner under the glow of the full moon.

"What do you want? I thought we agreed you would not come again," The centaur leader said.

"My brother needs help. One of your pack shot him with a wolfsbane arrow. He's dying if you could please—"

"Why should we worry about that?" The leader said. "Your Alpha deserved it."

"Please, I'm begging you. The toxin has almost reached his heart."

The large centaur rolled his eyes and already began to turn his back and walk away. Stiles looked to Cora and her panicked face and immediately was washed with guilt. He couldn’t disappoint her or let Derek die. He groaned. "Oh man, seriously, ugh.” He stepped forward and then bowed to the leader. “Please help Derek Hale."

The large centaur raised his brow. "Do you really wish to help?" The centaur asked.

"Not really no—yeah kind of—I just don't want a stupid werewolf's blood on my hands." Stiles admitted and lied at the same time.

The large centaur nodded and from his back got a single arrow and handed it to Stiles. "While my kind will not help such dark inferior creatures, my kind will always help a son of Pandia."

"A what?" Stiles paused, not taking the arrow.

The centaur smiled and waved the arrow, causing Stiles to regain control of the situation. He took the arrow and bowed toward the centaur. "Thank you!" He didn't have chance to comment more as Cora manhandled him onto her back.

They took off running and it felt like forever running back. When they got there, Stiles did not have the time to reset the mountain ash line. He was running to the room and paused at the doorway. Scott was trying to shake Derek awake but he was not responding.

"Derek!" Cora shouted, running to her brother's side. "He's not breathing." She panted.

Stiles went over and kneeled beside Derek. He wasn't moving at all. His chest was stagnant. "Derek..." He said. Shit. He didn't mean what he had said. He didn't want Derek to die. His heart rate increased at the revelation. Someone had died because of him. He touched Derek's arm hesitantly and felt that it was still warm. He was still alive. Stiles gasped.

“How do you wake an unconscious werewolf?” He asked Cora quickly.

“What? I don’t know.”

“All right, then the human way it is.”

He pulled back his fist and punched Derek in the face as hard as he could. Stiles gasped at the same time Derek did. Stiles clutched his hand. “You broke my hand!” Stiles screeched, but the pain was washed out as adrenaline was flooding his body.

Derek shot up so quickly he nearly knocked heads with Stiles. He snatched the arrow out of Stiles' hand and cast incendio on the arrow. The arrow incinerated into ash and Derek took the ash applying it into his arm. He hissed and growled and Stiles reared back at the menacing red eyes.

Derek groaned and huffed through his nose, falling back into the blankets.

“Derek?” Stiles whispered.

“Get me some water.” He panted.

Cora got the water for him.

It was quiet for a long moment as Derek drank. “So yeah…” Derek said awkwardly.

Stiles got the message. “You’re welcome.” He said sincerely, his own heart rate returning to normal.

“Your hand is broken.” Derek said, his eyebrows furrowed in worry.

Stiles looked at his right hand, it was swollen to a painful degree. Looking at it however, brought the adrenaline down and Stiles was suddenly in a lot of pain. He began to pant heavily at the sight, clutching at his wrist.

“Oh fucking Salazar, this hurts like a witch's—” Stiles didn’t get to finish his sentence because Derek was sitting up and crowding toward him. Stiles froze in place not out of fear but curiosity on what Derek was going to do. Derek had never been this close to him unless it was out of anger.

Derek took Stiles’ wrist gently cradling it in his hands. A second passed and then Stiles saw dark veins emerging on both their hands.

“Derek, what the fuck!” Cora reprimanded. She pushed Derek to the side. “You can’t be leeching off pain when you’re still healing.”

Stiles barely heard Cora ranting at her brother. He was fascinated with his hand. The pain was still there but now it felt numb. Did Derek just heal him?

He barely realized that Cora had grabbed his own wrist and was doing the same thing as her brother. “That should keep the pain down for a few hours. I suggest going to the Hospital Wing now. And yes Scott, I will teach you how to do that later.”

Stiles nodded weakly, still stuck on Derek healing him. Derek didn’t have to, even if Stiles saved his life.

“Stiles now.” Cora said.

“Right.”

He stood on shaky feet and left the three werewolves on their own. And on his way to the Hospital Wing, he still thought about Derek. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One step closer to learning about what Stiles is! I tried to reenact the scene that happened in Season 1 with my own twist to it. I feel like Stiles did help Derek in the show during the incident because of his mother but I tried to be more blatant here. Also minor sterek, tell me what you think!! Also try to guess who Pandia is!! Review please!
> 
> I want to thank everyone who reviewed, bookmarked, and gave kudos for last chapter. I'm almost at a 100 bookmarks and I'm getting super excited.


	15. Candidates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Jackson is being nosy, Derek finds candidates to turn.

Jackson watched Scott carefully as he flew around the Quidditch pitch. He noticed several things as Scott stole the ball from the Hufflepuff team and passed it to the other Gryffindor Chasers. There was just something not sitting right with Jackson. First, Scott was gripping the handle of his broom wrong which should have him flying at a slight curve. Second, the way he threw the Quaffle nearly made Jackson flinch. He was palming the ball too harshly and he threw the Quaffle in an incomplete half arch. All of these techniques should have made the Quaffle fly a few feet, _not_ across the entire stadium. It was strange. It was as if magic was involved.

Jackson glared as Scott scored another point for Gryffindor. The score was 70-30. He was shocked that Hufflepuff was keeping up so well but apparently they had watched Gryffindor’s last game because all the Chasers and Beaters were concentrating their efforts on blocking Scott.

“Jackson!” Lydia shouted. “Why are we here, again?”

The Slytherin didn’t take his eyes off the Quidditch pitch, but he could still sense Lydia pulling out her wand and placing a heating charm around them.

“I told you already. I think McCall is cheating somehow.”

“Just because you lost an over glorified game of fetch does not mean the Gryffindor is cheating.” Lydia pointed out. “Just get over it. You’re still the best sweetie.” Jackson definitely did not miss the sarcasm.

Jackson turned toward her and gave her his most deadpanned look. “We’ve been over this a thousand times, Lydia. Quidditch is not a game of fetch—”

“—It’s a strategical game that pushes your body to incomprehensible limits,” Lydia finished for him. “I heard you. I just choose not to care.”

“Shouldn’t you? Your boyfriend plays.”

“Aiden is not my boyfriend. He’s a boy with a good mouth and tongue and doesn’t look at himself in the mirror making kissy faces.”

Jackson groaned, taking his eyes off the match. “That was one time.”

“Two. Danny caught you just last week. Which by the way where is he?”

Jackson pointed across the stadium. “At the Gryffindor side with Stilinski. He’s turning into as much as a house traitor as he is.”

“Why is he hanging out with him? I thought Scott was the only one who could stand Stilinski.”

“He said something about offering support for Ethan Twine. Traitor.”

“I think it’s sweet.” Lydia said honestly right as Gryffindor made another point.

Jackson turned back to pitch quickly and lifted his binoculars to look at Scott. When he zoomed into the Gryffindor, he was flipping off his broom and clapping his other teammates. _No_ , everything he did was _wrong_. “Lydia, you’re the magic expert. He has to be using a spell or potion right? I mean look at him.”

Lydia pouted. “No, I’m not going to look at him. I want to go back to the castle.”

Jackson ignored her and lowered his binoculars when he saw Cora Hale and the Hufflepuff Seeker race to the snitch. Shit, the game was over and he knew Gryffindor was going to win. Cora Hale was the fastest Seeker he had ever seen. He saw the shimmering light coming closer to him and knew it must have been the snitch. A few seconds later, he saw Cora lean closer to her broom and take the lead.

She flew with utmost precision and Jackson noticed that she was coming incredibly close to the Slytherin stands. And just as predicted, she pulled her broom backwards right before crashing into the students and caught the snitch with her right hand. And that was when Jackson saw it. The clear distinct unnatural color of pure gold in her eyes. He watched her closely as she hovered a few feet above them. She let out a small breath and then her eyes turned brown.

“ _What the?_ ” Jackson whispered in disbelief as she flew to the center of the pitch and displayed the snitch proudly.

The deafening roar coming from the students hardly fazed Jackson. He stared blankly at the pitch while Lydia was shaking him.

“Jackson. Jackson?”

Yellow eyes.

What did that mean? He went through all the magical knowledge he had and could not discern any spell or potion that made a user’s eyes yellow. Could it just have been a trick of the light. No—the sun was hidden by the heavy winter clouds overhead. So what was it? And then that’s when Jackson remembered the first game of the season. He had sworn he had seen McCall’s eyes turn yellow too right as he tackled him for the quaffle.

Yellow eyes.

Whatever it was, both McCall and Hale had it. Jackson thought possibly that Stilinski could have made a special potion or even invented his own spell to make the two Gryffindors better Quidditch players, he knew Stilinski was bright enough to do it. But no, that didn’t make sense either, Stilinski was too lazy and lately had been acting odd even for him. Plus, why would Stilinski give it to them and not use it himself. It would certainly prove advantageous to the Slytherin team and while Jackson always questioned Stilinski’s place in Slytherin, he knew the boy well enough to know he was cunning little bastard as much as any other Slytherin. So what was it?

“Jackson!”

He jumped when Lydia screamed into his ear and turned toward her. “What?!”

“You were scaring me,” She said softly. “Everyone’s leaving already.”

“Right.” He nodded and stood up. Without prompting he outstretched his hand so Lydia could walk down safely. _He was so whipped by his best friend_ , passed quickly through his head. He wondered if he should ask Lydia if she saw Cora Hale too. He knew her knowledge was much vaster than any other student and even a few staff members of Hogwarts. But then, would she think he was paranoid?

“So I was thinking that we should cancel Dueling Club for tomorrow.” Lydia said, as they began leaving the stadium and heading back to the castle.

“Why?”

“Because I can only handle watching Scott fling your perfectly sculpted behind into the air a certain number of times before it gets old.”

“Haha. I at least have the courage to duel him. Wasn’t it you last week who were paired up with him and whined and politely demanded for a switch?”

“Please, Scott wouldn’t stand a chance against me. And I don’t whine for your information.”

“I’m sorry shrill voice and all kind of hard to tell the difference.” Jackson ducked quickly as a well timed Bat Bogey Hex was fired. Luckily, it hit an unfortunate first year Gryffindor. Jackson straightened his posture and adjusted his scarf to its perfect place when he saw Lydia tuck her wand away. “Oh you know I care for you.” He pulled Lydia closer and pecked the top of her head, making her release a shy smile. “But really why the cancellation?”

“A few of the Ravenclaws had complained telling me they needed to study for the Potions test tomorrow. So can’t have a meeting with club members missing so...cancelling”

“There’s a Potions test!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you cram. Which by the way you can’t keep cramming for every Potions test. What are you going to do next year for OWLS, you know Professor Harris isn’t going to accept anything below an Exceeds an Expectations right?”

“Yeah I know.” Jackson rolled his eyes. He was glad that Lydia and Danny were the only ones who knew that his Potions grades were only just average. He knew that the others wouldn’t laugh because first of all no one would dare to laugh at him without getting sent to the Hospital Wing, but he just didn’t want anyone thinking he was short of perfect. He was a pureblood after all, had to keep up appearances and such.

“Good. Meet me in the Ravenclaw tower around six. I’ll open the door for you.”

“I can answer a simple riddle, Lydia.”

“Really? Because last time you threatened you would turn the door knocker into a shoe string.”

That had not been one of Jackson’s finer moments. “Fine you can open the door.”

Lydia chuckled with a coy smile, that Jackson had come to realize was Lydia’s teasing face. He couldn’t help but shake his head and laugh fondly. He would worry about McCall another day, today he had Lydia all to himself.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Scott was sprawled on his bed while throwing a magical putty ball in the air on a random weekend day. He watched it stick to the ceiling until gravity won out and the ball fell back onto his hand. His roommates were off in Hogsmeade while Scott and Stiles stayed behind. They rarely visited Hogsmeade these days after the attack. The last time they had gone and truly enjoyed themselves was for the prank right before break to buy chocolate for the whole castle.  Going now, just felt strange and they only went when they began getting castle fever.

“Dude,” Stiles said urgently beside his feet. Stiles had the _Daily Prophet_ in his lap while chewing licorice wands obnoxiously.

Scott sat up and caught the putty ball without thinking. Scott didn’t even have to ask what was wrong because Stiles was already shoving the paper in his face. “Deucalion strikes again.” Scott read aloud.

Stiles brought his knees to his chest. “That’s thirty two now. And you bet your ass he’s going to have fifty for the freaking rising of the big bad Alpha.”

Scott put the paper aside, not really wanting to read the misfortune of another wizard village under attack. “Well, how’s your dad handling this?”

“I’ve sent a few letters to him, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible when asking about the case and he said that the entire Auror Department is fucking freaking out. They all know now that Deucalion wants to bring back Lycaon, but they don’t know how to stop him. They don’t know if they can.”  

“Do you think he can?”

“Not the way with things are turning out.” Stiles said in resignation.

“What about Derek?”

“You mean the homicidal maniac who doesn’t even thank you when you save his life?! That Derek!” They both knew Stiles was lying. Derek had already thanked Stiles by healing him. So Scott, really didn’t know why his friend was feigning hate.

Scott ignored his friend’s usual sarcasm. “Yes, that Derek. What if he can stop him? I mean Deaton and Morrell are helping, it has to be a solid plan, if he’s going to risk getting caught for being a werewolf.”

“Scott. No dude. Like no. You don’t understand. Derek is going to turn students! We have to stop him.”

“How? Derek’s an Alpha and in case you haven’t noticed he practically almost killed me in the Forbidden Forest without even trying.”

Stiles flailed his arms. “Which is exactly my point! He almost did kill you!”

“Because he doesn’t see me as pack...maybe if he did.”

“Why do you even want be in his pack? You told me just a few weeks ago you didn’t.”

“Cause I want to help.” He stood up and grabbed the paper shoving it at Stiles. “People are dying everyday because Deucalion is giving the bite to whomever he pleases. More people are going to die if Deucalion manages to rise Lycaon. You know Cora told me stories about him. There’s nothing that can stop him. Mountain ash, wolfsbane and fire don’t work. And when he’s out walking on the streets of London, what is your father going to do? He’ll be left defenseless. Someone has to help and if Derek has a plan, I don’t see why we shouldn’t help.”

“But why us?! Why do we have to face the freaking ten ton psychotic werewolf with claws and teeth that can make our insides our outsides. I don’t know about you Scott but I like my insides inside!” Stiles shouted.

Scott sat back down. “ I get it Stiles. We were going to have this plan that we were going to have a normal awesome seven years at Hogwarts, but face the freaking facts Stiles! I’m a freaking werewolf! _There’s nothing normal about me!_ The rest of my school years aren’t going to be awesome or normal because of it! And if we don’t help, we might not even have another three years left. Who knows what damage Lycaon will do once he rises. So I have to help!”

Scott saw Stiles turn away from him and look at his bed covers. He could see the turmoil in his amber eyes. He knew Stiles felt conflicted with the entire situation on a deeper level than hating Derek and Derek turning other students. This was all about Stiles hate and trepidation toward werewolves,even if he was getting better at accepting them. He knew Stiles still felt contempt and fear toward them and the only reason Stiles didn’t harbor those feelings toward him was because they were best friends. So working with other werewolves to stop others must have been screwing with Stiles’ head about everything he was taught about them. Everything his mother taught him.

“Fine,” Stiles licked his lips. “I’ll help too. You freaking Gryffindors and your hero complexes. Everything you said was right though except the normal and awesome part. You are. One of us has to still believe that you’re awesome cause I don’t like listening to you talk about that. You still are; you just have a furry little problem and like I promised I’m going to help you get through it. So I’ll help if you want to save the world.”

Scott went straight for it. He pulled Stiles in for a hug.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Derek was walking around the quad during the afternoon. Nearly every student was off in the Great Hall having lunch so the castle was pretty much deserted around this time. He liked it. Large groups of people tended to annoy him. They were just a grim reminder that he would rather not have.

So he took the time to gather his thoughts. Too many things were happening at once that he did not know what to give his attention to. OWLS were in about three weeks and Derek only felt confident in two subjects not nearly enough. Deucalion’s army was growing. He read the paper a few days ago and knew that Deucalion would have his fifty werewolves by the lunar eclipse. Plus, he hadn’t started turning other students. Part of him was scared of choosing someone and then their body rejecting the bite and the other part of him felt like he was going to rob them of their adolescence. The only good thing happening was that Laura’s health was improving drastically and that Deaton said she would be well by the beginning of June. He wondered how she would react with bringing new werewolves to the flat. She’d probably yell at him.

He sat in an alcove by the quad trying to piece everything together. And that’s when he heard it. They were still several yards away, judging by their muffled voice through the castle walls but they were approaching. He sat up straight and saw three seventh year Slytherins following a fourth year Hufflepuff.

“Hey Huffleshit, where do you think you’re going?! We’re not finished!” Slytherin #1 said.

He saw the Hufflepuff ignore them and continued to walk at a brisk pace. The Hufflepuff was tall and lanky and probably still had a lot of growing to do. But there was something about him that look tattered and broken.

“I already said leave me alone.” The Hufflepuff murmured, walking faster.

The Slytherins didn’t let him. Slytherin #2, the tallest and ugliest of the bunch pulled out his wand. “ _Petrificus Totalus!_ ”

The Hufflepuff Boy fell face first, immobile. The Slytherins laughed and ran toward him and rolled him over.

Derek stood up slowly and began walking toward the scene.

Slytherin #3 who had a bad case of acne pulled out his wand, “This will teach you!”

“Hey!” Derek shouted, now only a few feet away. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Slytherin #2 sneered. “What? Another Hufflepuff? Did you call a friend Lahey?”

“Step away before I give you detention.” Derek said, and displayed his Prefect Badge on his robes.

“Oh a Prefect! We’re so scared!” Slytherin #1 mocked.

Derek pulled out his wand. “Step away from him or else.” Derek stated.

“What? You want a duel?” Slytherin #3 shouted, standing up straight.

Derek rolled his eyes and sneered maliciously. The three Slytherins took a small step back at his expression. “Trust me, it won’t be much of a duel.”

Derek saw the Slytherin fire the spell. It was a lame Stupefying charm that Derek blocked easily. Without wasting any energy, Derek pointed his wand at Slytherin #3. “Levicorpus!” Immediately, the Slytherin was left upside down and dangling from his ankle. The other two Slytherin went into action and cast spells that Derek did not recognize and were most likely illegal, but again, Derek blocked them. In quick succession, he fired two spells toward the other two and the force sent them flying backwards. It wasn’t Derek’s intent but it suited him just fine. When both Slytherins got up, they noticed that both of them were dripping with mucus from their nose and their ears. Both of them squealed and ran off most likely to the Hospital Wing leaving Slytherin #3 alone.

Derek released the charm when he noticed he was growing red and the Slytherin fell on his head. He whined but didn’t wait much longer and ran off in the same direction as his friends.

Derek huffed and walked over to the younger Hufflepuff. “ _Finite_.”

The boy gasped for air and quickly stood up. “Um thank you.” He said softly. He began walking away quickly.

“Wait, stop.” Derek said. The boy did and turned around slowly. “Do you need to go to the Hospital Wing?” The boy smelled wrong, not like Stilinski wrong—but wrong as in he was injured badly.

“No.” He said, shaking his head furiously.

Derek took a small step forward. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, thank you for that. I’m going to go back to the dorms.”

The kid was resilient beyond Derek’s belief. He wondered what had transpired in his life for that to have happened. And then Derek saw it. He remembered Morrell’s words, if you’re looking for candidates, Hufflepuff is filled with them. Before Derek knew it, he was chasing after the younger boy and stopped him at the darken alcove he was sitting at before.

“Hey I didn’t get your name.” Derek said.

“Isaac...Lahey.”

“Well, hey Isaac. My name’s Derek Hale.”

“I know, you’re the Prefect.” He said shyly.

The boy didn’t seem used to conversation. That was odd, a Hufflepuff who didn’t socialize. Oh Derek for sure was looking forward to having him in his pack. “Why did the Slytherins attack you?”

Isaac’s eyes darkened. “They killed Aries last week, my pet rat. He was already old since dumbo rats only live two years but they didn’t have to murder him. I ended up punching one of their friends so badly he had to go to the Hospital Wing. I’ve been avoiding them for a week but they caught me today.”

“You punched one?” Derek asked. He wasn’t sure if Isaac was prone to violent tendencies and if he was, how well that would translate to werewolf control. Yet, a fighting instinct would be good against Deucalion.

“Yeah, not really good with dueling spells and all.”

Derek genuinely laughed and sat down on the floor. “What are you good at?”

Isaac looked around his surroundings for a moment and then sat beside Derek before letting his guard down. That was strange but again, it just made him more of a perfect candidate.

“Um not sure. Never gave it much thought before.”

“I’m sure you’re good at something.”

“My dad doesn’t think so.” Derek caught several scents coming from the boy. Fear, guilt, confusion, and anger. He watched the boy clasps his hands several times and Derek saw scars only a few months old run along his hands. They looked deep and ragged as if someone had cut him open and then let him heal and cut it again. Isaac immediately covered up his hands under his legs. “They’re not what you think—I tripped.”

“Those don’t look like a few skid marks.”

“They are.” He said hastily.

Derek understood immediately. His father beat him. Badly.

Derek could use it to his incentive. “I can’t make your dad stop,” Derek said. “But I can make the scars go away. All of them, all the visible one’s at least.”

Isaac shook his head. “Don’t worry I have healing salve in my trunk.”

Derek shook his head. “Not healing salve. Something better.”

“Oh no. I’ve read about expensive healing potions, I don’t want to burden you.”

Derek smiled. “It’s not potions either. Think of it as a cure.”

“A what?”

“A cure. I can give it to you if you want. That is if you give me something I want.”

“What is it?” He asked hesitantly.

“I can show you. But not here, someone could see.” Derek stood up.

“What is it?” Isaac stood as well.

“Follow me. I’ll show you.”

Isaac nodded and then followed him out of the quad and down to the bridge leading to Hogwarts Grounds. Derek could smell the nervousness coming from Isaac but he also smelled curiosity that was overpowering his hesitation.

They got to edge of the Forbidden Forest where the Whomping Willow sat above on a hill. Isaac paused and watched the tree move madly as they neared it with fear. Derek smiled and pulled out his wand. “ _Immobulus!_ ” Derek cast.

The tree stopped moving and Derek walked closer to the tree. “Coming?” He asked.

“Uh. I think I should go back.”

“Suit yourself then.” Derek jumped through the hole at the base of the tree and didn’t have to wait very long. A few seconds later, he heard Isaac jump through, a bit too enthusiastically Derek noted as he fell face first.

“Ow.” Isaac sat on his haunches and rubbed his nose which had become a bright red. Derek let him get his bearing for a few moments. “What is this place?”

“It’s a tunnel. Leads straight to the Shrieking Shack.”

“No shit.” Isaac said, standing up and looking down the tunnel. “Hufflepuffs are good finders. Is the cure in there?”

“Yeah. C’mon turn your wand on, it gets pretty dark.”

Isaac nodded and cast a Lumos, illuminating the dark tunnel. Derek stuffed his hands inside his robes and breathed a sigh of relief. He had Isaac right where he wanted him.

“So how did you find this cure?” Isaac asked.

“It’s been passed down from my family.”

“Cool. I wish my dad passed down things to me.”

“What about your mother?”

Isaac shrugged. “Never met her. Just my dad and me.”

Derek didn’t know how to reply, so he didn’t. He continued walking and listening to Isaac’s heartbeat. It was slow and steady even when they entered the Shrieking Shack and saw the upturned broken furniture, the claw marks on the wall, and the blood splatters on the wall.

“Ok, so where’s the cure?” Isaac asked.

“If I show you the cure will you keep it a secret?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re very trusting toward someone you’ve never met. For all you know I could have brought you here to murder you.”

Isaac shrugged and looked out of the window where he could see the Forbidden Forest. “Don’t have much to lose and I doubt whatever you do to me, can’t be as bad as what my father does.”

Derek smiled and took a step forward. “Then this is going to be child’s play for you.” His eyes shone red and his fangs protruded from his mouth. Derek couldn’t keep the soft chuckle from escaping his throat when Isaac gasped and took several steps back until he hit the wall.

“What are you?”

“What do you think I am?”

Isaac pushed off the wall and took a step forward, examining Derek’s face closely. “Fangs make me want to say vampire but you’re not burning in the sun or narcissistic so...werewolf.”

“You don’t seem that scared.”

Isaac shook his head. “No. Startled and surprised but not scared. You brought me here to offer me the bite. Why? You said you wanted something in return? What is it?”

“You’re loyalty.”

“We’re Hufflepuffs.” Isaac said. “What do you really want?”

“Help. On taking a certain werewolf down.”

“Deucalion? _What?_ He’s been all over the paper it’s only obvious.” Derek nodded, the kid was a bright. Another great asset. He should have asked Morrell for help sooner on choosing candidates. “Ok.”

“Are you sure you want this.” Derek said in leaning closer into Isaac.

“Yes. But. I want you to swear something.”

“What?”

“Well if I survive the bite, my dad isn’t going to be happy that his son is a werewolf. He’s gonna kick me out. So swear—swear on your magic you’ll take me in.”

Derek looked into Isaac’s eyes and saw that the boy was not kidding. He was dead serious. Derek wanted to know what Isaac’s father did to him because he just couldn’t picture it. His own father had treated him with love and affection everyday. So when Derek found that he had already taken out his wand, he wasn’t that surprised. “I swear on my magic.” A clear string of light emitted from the tip of his wand and wrapped around his forearm.

Isaac seemed pleased and nodded. Derek didn’t wait anymore. He licked his lips and bit into Isaac’s shoulder.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Jackson found himself in the library with Danny working over Charms homework together. The assignment was due tomorrow and again both of them had left their Charms work at the last minute. They really couldn’t help themselves. Finstock gave the most ridiculous assignments.

“All right, I ran out of ideas of how summoning something across the castle is a bad idea.” Danny said, and leaned back in his chair.

“Did you say it might break a window or hit someone in the head?” Jackson asked, writing gibberish. He had stopped caring about ten minutes ago whether or not his essay made sense.

“Yup and yup. Still have about three inches left to go.”

“Just turn it in like that. I doubt Finstock measures.”

Danny scoffed as if he would ever get caught handing in unfinished material and grabbed his quill again. Both of them worked in silence for a good fifteen minutes, until Jackson got frustrated and pushed his charms book as far as possible. “Ok, so I’m practically done. Want to go out and fly?”

“No you cheat.”

“What kind of person would I be if I didn’t? And you cheat too!”

“True but still no.”

“I promise I won’t be angry if you tug at my broom.” Jackson teased.

Danny gave him a deadpanned look. “Jackson, how many times do I have to tell you? You are not my type.”

“I refuse to accept that. I’m everyone’s type.”

“I doubt that.”

Jackson leaned over the desk, grinning. “C’mon, you can admit you’ve jacked off thinking about me. I’ll be flattered instead of angry you know.”

Danny sighed and grabbed Jackson’s face to push him away. “Gross. I can assure you that you are right next to women on the things I want to think about when I jack off.”

Jackson slouched in his chair. “Whatever. How are you and that Gryffindork?”

“Ethan and I are non-existent.”

“Really? You betrayed me on the Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff game two months ago to cheer him on. What happened?”

“I wanted to see if he would notice me. He didn’t. And plus leaving you was to give you and Lydia some alone time, you two looked like you needed it.” Danny wiggled his eyebrows.

“Oh you’re not making this about me, I want to hear the details with Ethan.”

“I thought you loved being the center of attention, Jackson.” Danny grinned.

“Shut up. But really is he ignoring you? Cause I can go over there and hex him for you if you want.”

“No hexing please, I’ll do it myself. He just said he’s not that interested.”

“Bullshit. What was his other excuse?”

“He’s not out yet.”

Jackson furrowed his brows. “Really? I could have sworn he was.”

“Well you have been more perceptive with people’s sexualities since I came out. You probably noticed him checking someone out like I did. And if he’s not ready or not a hundred percent sure on his sexuality, I don’t want to push it.”

“Maybe we can get Aiden to convince him so you can get laid.”

Danny groaned. “Ugh I hate talking to Aiden. He’s an asshole. How are you taking him dating Lydia?”

“They’re not dating.”

“I just saw them making out behind the clocktower.”

“She said they’re not dating. So they’re not dating. End of story.”

Danny raised his hands in defense and looked at Jackson’s essay. “You done?” Jackson hummed. “Great, cause I’m starving.” Danny began packing up his stuff quickly and Jackson copied his movements.

Both of them headed to the Great Hall and Jackson groaned as he saw Stilinski with his Gryffindor idiots beside him. He was about to comment this to Danny but then he watched the trio whispering furiously back and forth. That was weird.

He watched them as inconspicuously as he could and saw that Danny was looking at the trio oddly too. McCall hunched over sharply and then both Hale and Stilinski sprang into action. They grabbed McCall by his robes and dragged him out of the public’s view. The three walked past Jackson quickly and if Jackson wasn’t watching McCall so intensely he would have missed the searing yellow eyes and sharp teeth protruding from his lips. Jackson froze and didn’t even notice he had dropped his book bag until Danny had picked it up for him.

“Jackson? You ok?”

“What? Yeah. Um… I forgot something in the library. I’ll be back real quick.”

Jackson left Danny and grabbed his bag. He pulled the strap over his chest and walked in the direction the trio had. Jackson stopped as he saw Hale and Stilinski haul McCall into an empty classroom and close the door. Obviously, someone had cast a locking charm on the door judging by the small light that emitted from the door and he wouldn’t put it past them to cast a silencing charm either. What were they doing? He went around the corner and waited for the three to come out again. He knew he saw something on McCall and whatever it was, it was the reason McCall got so good at Quidditch.

Luckily, Jackson didn’t have to wait long. Five minutes passed and he saw Stilinski’s head looking both ways dramatically before signaling to the others.

“Dude you can’t keep doing that,” Stilinski reprimanded. “Someone’s going to see.”

“Sorry.” McCall said.

“How come you never lose control?”

“Because I’ve had years of practice and an anchor that’s not useless.” Hale answered.

“I am far from useless.” Stilinski retorted. “And maybe Scott is just a sucky werewolf, which isn’t necessarily bad thing considering other werewolves find the need to snarl at me every ten seconds.”

Jackson’s eyes opened wide when he saw Hale’s eyes flash yellow while she released a rather wolf like noise from her throat. Stilinski flinched dramatically and pushed McCall toward her. Jackson could hardly pay attention. Scott McCall and Cora Hale were werewolves. Actual living breathing werewolves.

Jackson slowly walked back to the Great Hall and sat beside Danny, letting his backpack fall with a thunk. They were freaking werewolves. How in the world was this happening. Was this how they were doing so well in Quidditch? It was outright cheating and conniving—and brilliant. Jackson turned to the Gryffindor table, where the trio was barely arriving.

He looked at McCall and immediately knew he wanted the bite. He had read every book on werewolves and he knew most of the books depicted werewolves as treacherous beasts that needed to be put down, but no, Jackson knew better. He had paid good money to buy books on werewolves that actually displayed them without any controversy and Jackson did not see any reason why not everyone in the wizarding world should be one. Werewolves weren’t bad, Jackson knew this better than anyone for several reasons. Reasons he had yet to tell to his two best friends. Reasons he was never going to tell his best friends. But going back on topic, werewolves had quicker reflexes, were stronger, faster, tended to be brighter than the average human. The werewolf bite was godsend and it was just filled with wasted potential on McCall.

How did he become a freaking werewolf anyway? Was he born that way? No. Judging by Hale’s comment he hadn’t been one very long. The Hale girl though she was born one. Jackson could tell immediately. It would explain the girl’s odd behavior since first year and it would explain why nearly her entire family was murdered a few years back. But then did that mean Hale turned McCall. It seemed plausible but he recalled Cora’s eyes being yellow. Yellow was a Beta color. So then who was the Alpha?

“Jackson, stop glaring at McCall it’s creepy.” Danny said.

Jackson turned to his best friend. “I’m not.”

“Whatever you say, did you get what you needed?”

Jackson smirked. “Yeah. I got everything.”

 

|~~***~~|

 

Derek couldn’t have been more pleased. Isaac’s body fully accepted the bite and was receiving vital werewolf information from Morrell well. Derek just needed to turn more. He wanted another werewolf by tonight but he knew he was setting his sights a little too high. He wondered if it was part of his natural instinct to want to turn people as it was the full moon tonight. He sort of hoped it wasn’t. He didn’t want to turn people left and right either. He just needed a select few students. About three or four and he would be good.

He wandered around Hogwarts Castle looking for any possibility of seeing someone who could be a good werewolf. But after walking around for a good five hours and only seeing hyperactive students who definitely needed adult supervision, Derek considered heading back to his dorm to study for OWLs. His first one was Charms and he was absolutely dreading it. He actually considered briefly failing every subject except Defense and Transfiguration but he knew Laura would kick his ass when the scores arrived. Alpha or no Alpha powers, Derek still feared Laura when she was angry. He learned his lesson a long time ago.

Using Laura as motivation, Derek turned on his heel and began heading down the stairs. He wasn’t looking forward to climbing down seven flights of stairs to head to the basement, but he really had no other choice. He wondered what Cora would think of his laziness. She was always the active one of the three Hales.

He was ready to turn the corner but paused as he heard a second heartbeat that was not there before. He turned around and saw a small Hufflepuff girl come out of a randomly placed door in a wall that Derek swore was never there before. The blonde girl shut the door with caution and Derek watched as the door disappeared. What was that room?

The girl sighed looking at the wall for a few moments before walking toward Derek. Derek immediately recognized her. Her name was Erica Reyes and she was a fourth year with some sort of disease. All the Hufflepuff Prefects were informed of her condition in case she had an attack in the dorms and he recalled that she had a really bad one at the start of the year.

When she had finished her attack, nobody had helped her except another fourth year Hufflepuff named Boyd. The girl was an outcast in Hufflepuff. Derek wondered if it was strange that there were so many. Hufflepuffs tended to form packs just as thick as werewolves that Derek was sometimes astounded by it, but this girl seemed to not belong to any. Just like Isaac.

“Erica?” Derek asked, when she passed by him.

She paused and looked toward him with big eyes. “Hello.”

He gave her his best feigned smile and pointed to the wall. “Where did you just come from?”

She looked back and turned to him. “Down the hall.”

Derek grinned and cocked his hip against the wall. “No you didn’t. Where did you really come from?”

“A secret room. But I promise it’s not bad,” She said, glancing down at his Prefect Badge.

“Can you show me it?” He asked. She shook her head. “Why not?”

“Because it’s _my_ secret room.” She stuttered.

Derek smiled and reached forward his hand slowly and grabbed a strand of blonde hair that had come loose of her messy ponytail and tucked it behind her ear. “But I want to see it.”

He watched her bite her lip in hesitation and glance toward the now empty wall. “Do you promise not to show anyone?”

Derek showed all his teeth. “Of course.”

She walked back to the wall and Derek watched her walk past it three times, muttering to herself something that was too jumbled for even him to pick out. She stopped and the same door appeared again. She walked in first and Derek went after.

The room was nothing like he expected. He thought he would see an abandoned classroom with old desks and chairs and cobwebs hanging from the ceiling but instead he saw a bedroom. It was dimly lit by dozens of twinkling lights floating above a messy comfy bed. The walls were painted a dark red and were covered by several posters, some of them of Quidditch posters and others of muggle celebrities he didn’t recognize. On the far wall, he saw a desk with several parchments in a variety of colors with quills of all sizes and types. He walked over to the desk and looked at the portrait sitting in the middle. It was a picture of Erica with what Derek assumed were her parents.

“It looks exactly my bedroom back home.” Erica said softly leaning against the metal post of her bed. “I don’t know why, but the room gives me what I want—well almost everything.”

Derek put the picture down. “What _do_ you want?”

She pointed toward the desk again where Derek barely noticed the several flasks of potion vials and muggle medicine. “I want that gone.”

Derek smiled and cupped her face gently, where she leaned in to the touch. Derek felt something tug at his stomach at the trust the girl was so willing to give. He wondered how many people she wanted to give it to but they just rejected it. His thumb caressed her cheek back and forth. “I can make it go away.”

The girl opened her large brown eyes. In five seconds, Derek smelled everything. He could smell her pain, her disbelief, her desperation of wanting to belong, to be better.

“How?”

“Magic.”

She shook her head. “Magic doesn’t work. Healers have tried.”

“I bet they haven’t tried my method. I promise I can make it go away for good and give you a better life in return.”

“Really?”

Derek nodded and found himself using his other hand to push wayward strands back into her ponytail. The girl was obviously battered and had a bad case of acne, but Derek could see the beauty in those eyes. He wished he had socialized more in the Hufflepuff room, he would have befriended her in an instant. She just seemed so honest and open. She reminded him a bit of Laura. He didn’t even feel the need to ask her whether she would be loyal to him or help him stop Deucalion. This was a girl who would do all in her power to do the best. He could see that no one was giving her the chance and she was practically brimming with such determination, he was almost overwhelmed. She was perfect, just like Isaac.

“Yeah? Do you want to see?”

She nodded and Derek flashed his eyes red to gauge her reaction. She wasn’t even startled like Isaac had been. She was intrigued. She lifted her hand and Derek felt her delicate fingers run across his stubble. “You’re a werewolf.” It wasn’t a question.

“You knew?”

“I had a feeling.”

“How?”

“You always brood more than usual every month. I caught on enough to notice that it was every full moon.” She chuckled softly.

“You’re not scared?”

She shook her head. “Who am I to judge an infliction you were born with that only serves to ostracize you from society? I would be a hypocrite.”

Derek genuinely smiled at her words. She understood. She was going to be perfect. He prayed that the bite would give. “Do you want it?”

“Yes.”

“Lay down on the bed.”

Erica climbed on the bed with her head on the multitude of pillows. Derek climbed and hovered over her and trailed his hand to her stomach, lifting her bulky sweater. He leaned in and gave her a glimpse of his teeth before he sunk them into her side. He felt her tense, but she didn’t scream like Isaac had. Her muscles convulsed and her hands clenched into fists. He leaned forward and squeezed her hand, giving her a small reassurance as he pulled away. Immediately blood began soaking the bed sheets. Derek put pressure on the wound, and watched her bite her lip holding in her cries. She was strong. He hoped she was strong enough to survive.

After half an hour, her body relaxed and she looked at him with glazed eyes. “Is it over?” She whispered.

Derek removed his hands and saw the wound. It was pulsing with every shaky breath she took. The worst part was over, now they just had to wait. “Almost.” He lifted her off the bed and tucked her underneath the sheets. He was about to pull out his wand to clean the sheets, but then he saw that at the foot of the bed was a neatly folded pair that was not there before. The room gives me what I want. Derek removed the sheets off Erica and put on the new ones. “You tell me if you feel to begin any pain immediately. Okay?”

Erica nodded.

“Just sleep for now.” Erica closed her eyes while Derek pulled the chair from underneath the desk. He faced the chair toward Erica’s bed and waited. When he got into a comfortable position, he noticed that on the foot of Erica’s bed was an exact copy of his Charms book. He lifted the book and rifled through the pages. That was weird, but it did give him something to do. He grabbed a random parchment from her desk and a quill and began to study.

If Derek fell asleep from the sheer boredom of his Charms book, he would never admit it. But apparently he did, because he felt someone shaking him awake. He blearily opened his eyes and saw Erica looking back at him.

“Derek, the bite it’s gone.”

“What?”

“The bite it’s gone.”

Derek stood up quickly, knocking the chair behind him as he climbed onto the bed. He lifted Erica’s sweater slightly and saw that the bite was gone. It was just smooth pale skin. He ran his finger over her side and Erica laughed.

“It worked?”

Derek nodded and Erica exclaimed with glee. “I’m cured. From everything?”

Derek was shocked that Erica took lycanthropy as a cure rather than an ailment, but he was glad that he picked someone that would see the bite as a gift. “Everything is gone. Just like I promised.”

She fell back against the bed and let out a long sigh of relief. “Everything will work itself in the end.”

Derek froze. That’s what Laura used to say when they were all still plagued by nightmares of the fire.

She turned toward him and Derek bemusedly noticed that all her acne was gone. “That’s what my dad used to tell me all the time. I didn’t believe him, now I do.”

Derek grabbed her hand and lifted her until her legs were dangling off the bed. “C’mon we have to go.”

“Go where?”

“To a safe place where we will make sure we won’t hurt anyone. It’s the full moon tonight. We should be heading to Morrell’s office actually right about now.”

Erica stood up, pulling her wand from the back of her jeans. She cast a cleaning charm on her sweater, making the blood disappear. “Professor Morrell is a werewolf too?”

“No, but I’ll explain it to you on the way.” He let go of her hand and led her toward the door.

There wasn’t much time to explain everything Derek wanted to as they approached Morrell’s office. When Derek opened the door for her, he already saw Isaac sitting down speaking with Morrell.

“Another one?” Morrell asked, as Erica walked in shyly. “And from Hufflepuff.” She said smiling.

Derek nodded and watched carefully how Erica and Isaac interacted. They smiled shyly at each other and Erica took the seat next to Isaac. They engaged in small talk that Derek felt was perfectly normal and felt mildly relieved they were getting along. It was just as important for his Betas to form a strong bond to make the pack stronger.

“Where’s Cora?” Derek asked.

“I don’t know, its not like for her to be late.”

Twenty minutes later, the door opened quickly with two teenagers laughing loudly. Derek stood straighter as he saw Cora and Scott emerge from the door. Their reactions were immediate.

Cora’s face went deadpanned as she looked at Isaac and Erica. “And when were you going to tell me this?”

At the same time, Scott had screamed. “Isaac!”

“Scott!”

Crap, he had forgotten about Scott’s abhorrence to his decision to turn students. He wasn’t sure how he would react so he was ready for the worst.

“Excuse me.” Cora said sternly. “When were you going to tell me about this?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Tonight.”

“Tonight?” Oh well that’s reassuring.” She bit out sarcastically.

Derek turned away from his sister.

“Did Derek bite you too?” Isaac asked Scott.

“No, uh his uncle did.” Scott said. “When did Derek turn you?”

“A few weeks ago.”

Derek expected more from Scott but he wasn’t going to jinx it. “Is it time to go?” He asked Morrell.

“Yes.”

All six of them walked to the Shrieking Shack and Derek noticed how well Cora was speaking with Erica. Well, Cora was doing most of the talking while Erica listened but Derek just figured it was shyness. Cora could probably get her out of it. Isaac was talking with Scott and both were laughing over something that Derek couldn’t be bothered to overhear. He hadn’t realized that the two were friends.

“You choose good Betas.” Morrell commented as they walked in the tunnel.

“I took your advice. Hufflepuff did seem like the most reasonable choice.”

“Are you going to turn more?”

“Probably one more. Why? How many do you think?” He genuinely wanted her opinion as an emissary.

She was quiet for a moment. Derek let her mull it over. “I think that choosing a large number will be best to stop Deucalion. You’re forgetting that you are not only fighting Deucalion, but Kali and Ennis. Both of them are extremely strong Alphas. What you faced from them was nothing close to their full potential. Also you will be dealing with fifty werewolves.”

“So what? I should convert fifty students. That madness, the chances of them surviving—”

“No, one more will be just fine.”

“But you just said—”

“A smaller pack gives your more time to bond and grow as a pack. In which will make you stronger. And you will have Cora, Laura, Deaton, and I fighting by your side.”

“Are you sure its enough?”

“Yes, I’m positive.”

They climbed into the Shrieking Shack and Morrell began setting the mountain ash line at the doorway. “I’ll come as soon as the moon sets.” She said and they all bid her a farewell.

Derek wondered as Morrell left if she should have cast a mountain ash line around Isaac and Erica as it would be their first moon, but she was already too far gone to call out for her.

Isaac and Erica were quiet as the moon drew closer. Derek sensed that in five minutes it would finally rise.

“How do you feel?”

“Twitchy.” Isaac said. Erica hummed in agreement.

It wasn’t until the moon was finally rising that Derek forgot to mention to Erica about anchors and ask Isaac if he had found his. He received his answer when three simultaneous growls shook the structure of the building. _Shit._ He had forgotten that Scott couldn’t control his werewolf side either.

He looked to Erica and Isaac and both of them were already in their Beta forms, sniffing the air. _Shit._ Isaac was the first to attack and he lunged toward Scott who was the closest. Scott lunged as well. Shit. Both of them locked hands pushing back and forth gouging each other’s strength. Scott seemed to have won because he bent Isaac’s wrist and then flung him to the other side of the room.

Derek ran to Scott as the younger began to eye him like prey. Derek hardly made any effort as he grabbed Scott’s head and slammed him against the wall. It was hard enough to disorient him and limp to the floor. Isaac was back on his feet.

Derek didn’t turn around in time because Isaac knocked him to the ground. Isaac flipped him over and used his claws to slash at his throat. Derek craned his neck to the far left and Derek heard the wood chip as Isaac struck the floor. Derek sneaked his hands under Isaac and pushed. Isaac hit the wall and as soon as that was dealt with Scott was on top of him. _Ugh._ This was getting annoying.

Cora was not doing any better. She had pinned Erica to the wall and was using all her strength to keep the other from snapping at her neck. Erica was vicious and kicked and screeched. Cora had to keep reasserting her strength but Erica struggled more. She lifted her right leg and kicked Cora on her flank, making Cora lose her grip. Erica pushed Cora to the wall and gripped her throat. Cora clawed Erica’s arm to let Erica release her but Erica leaned in close and growled trying to assert her dominance.

Derek wanted to go help Cora but Scott and Isaac were keeping him busy. If it were any other time, Derek would have been impressed with Scott and Isaac’s team tactics but both of them had him pinned to the wall. There was a slight change in the air and Derek froze. The smell of moon entered the room.

“Hey guys are you training, oh holy fucking shit!” Stiles screeched coming to a halt as he entered the room.

Scott seemed to be getting his senses back slowly and released Derek, but Erica and Isaac seemed to get more aggravated. They let go of their captors and charged at Stiles. Shit. Derek expected a single command to come out of Stiles’ mouth like last time, but instead, Stiles rose his hands to shield his face but immediately several red lights danced around his head and shot in different directions. The lights hit all the werewolves in the room, making them crash either into random furniture or the wall.

Derek hissed as the lights made contact with his body. They didn’t just sting. They burned like fire. What the hell what kind of magical outburst was that? When Derek lifted his head, Stiles’ body was already preparing a new set of red lights.

Derek made eye contact with Stiles and he seemed frightened as if this had happened before. He watched him clench his fists but Stiles’ panic made the red lights shoot at them again. Derek growled as they made contact.

“Stiles!” Derek shouted.

“I can’t control it!” He called back.

Derek groaned and looked to Isaac. The kid was getting ready to attack Stiles. Derek ran to Isaac and pinned him to the ground. From his peripheral vision he could see that Scott had control of his werewolf side because of Stiles and he was helping Cora keep Erica pinned as well.

The situation was in their favor and Stiles’ subconscious must have realized this because the red lights disappeared. “I’m gonna just wait behind the barrier.” Stiles motioned, stepping back quickly.

Derek was relieved that Stiles would not get hurt and focused all his attention on Isaac who was snapping at spitting in his face.

“ISAAC! What did Morrell and I tell you? Find your anchor! Find what makes you human!” Isaac growled again and tried to attack, but Derek dug his claws in Isaac’s hands, right into the scars that his father had left. Isaac froze and while his werewolf features did not diminish, his heartbeat significantly slowed. “Isaac?”

Isaac breathed deeply and gave a slow nod. Derek released him and watched Isaac retreat to a corner of the room. Derek made sure that he wasn’t going to spring on anyone before turning all his attention on Erica. Derek stepped over her and growled loudly. Erica froze in fear and her Beta submissiveness must have taken in because she whimpered and retreated into another corner just like Isaac.

“Oh you couldn’t have done that before?” Cora snapped, flicking a hair behind her ear as she regained her breath.

Derek ignored her. Stiles was still awkwardly standing at the doorway out of harm’s way. “Stay there,” Derek ordered. “Wait for them to calm down before coming inside.”

Stiles nodded with his mouth agape.

Derek went to Isaac first to make sure he hadn’t hurt him. He grabbed his wrist and saw that the wound had already healed. “What was your anchor?”

“My father.”

Derek looked into his eyes and saw the pain in them. “At least you have your anchor now. First moon is always the worst. You did really well. Next one should be better.”

Derek left Isaac in the corner and Scott stood up to most likely comfort him. He went to Erica next who was still cowering in the corner. “Hey Erica…”

The girl whined.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about anchors. That should have been the first thing. I’m really sorry.”

Erica nodded and hid her face in her hands.

“Stiles. You can come in now.” Derek sighed.  

“You sure? Like no one is going to rip my head off or anything.”

“Come inside.” Derek growled.

Stiles stepped cautiously over the line and immediately Erica and Isaac groaned.

“What is that smell?” Isaac asked, lifting his shirt to his nose. “It smells like something died.”

“Oh really?” Stiles shouted, lifting his arm and sniffing his armpit. “I made sure to shower before I came over. Wait a minute...Isaac? Erica? You turned Erica?!”

“Hi Stiles.” Erica waved shyly, covering her nose.

Derek shrugged and went over to sit by Erica as she had the least amount of control in the room. Stiles walked across the room and sat by Scott and Isaac, dropping his usual bag on the floor. “All right let’s get busy.” Stiles said pulling out a bunch of parchments.

“Wait, you’re not going to yell at me?” Derek asked. “I thought you and Scott were against all this.”

“I am not yelling at you because I don’t want to startle the new werewolves and have them attack me for challenging your authority. I’m not stupid. Second of all, I still think your plan is fucking ridiculous but Scott and I are going to help you.”

“What?” Cora and Derek asked.

“Yup,” Scott agreed. “We’re helping and you can’t say anything about it.”

“You are not helping.” Derek finally said, even though he knew the help would be beneficial.

Stiles scoffed. “Dude do you even know where Deucalion is going to be doing his ritual?” Derek paused. “Didn’t think so buddy. You need Scott and me. Especially me.”

“No, we don’t. I’m positive Deaton can find information about Deucalion.”

“Dude, who's the one who has the dad with all the case files on Deucalion? Yeah, got you there.”  Stiles pulled out a case load of files from the bag. “Ok so I’m pretty sure this is incredibly illegal and I can get sent to Azkaban for this but meh.” Derek’s eyes opened wide and walked quickly close to Stiles. He heard Erica protests and begin to tense. He rolled his eyes, went back and picked Erica up and dragging him with her.

“Oh my god, the smell is worse up close.” Erica gagged. Cora came to sit next to her.

“Don’t worry you get used to it, mostly.” She sighed. “Actually not really, you just learn to breathe differently.”

Stiles ignored the girls. “This is everywhere Deucalion has attacked, how many bodies he’s killed and how many persons are missing.” Stiles said pulling out several files. “My dad has a list of people who are missing and I’m guessing these are all the missing file cases. It has their names, career, age, family, literally everything.” Stiles rambled, throwing random heavily highlighted files to Derek.

“How did you even get this information?” Cora asked.

“Uh yeah let’s try a different question.” Stiles smiled and then pulled out a large map of the UK. “Ok so according to my dad’s files there is a lunar eclipse a week before we go to break for winter vacation in our fifth year. They think the ritual will be done then.”

Derek nodded. “Yeah, that’s when my uncle said it was going to happen and that Deucalion has to do it in a forest.”

“Awesome so my dad’s right on that. My dad is already planning out on stationing several aurors even a few aurors in training in every single forest of the UK, and I’m pretty sure Deucalion already knows about this and that’s why he’s coming here.”

“What?” Derek shot.

“Yup. It’s the only forest my dad isn’t keeping aurors at and I think it’s because my dad thinks that Deucalion won’t do a ritual so close to a school that Deaton is meant to be protecting.”

“Exactly. Deaton is protecting Hogwarts and the surrounding villages. Deucalion knows that, why is he coming here still?” Cora asked.

“Deucalion isn’t scared of Deaton. He never has been.” Derek said, remembering the few encounters he saw of Deucalion as a child.

“That’s what I was thinking too.” Stiles said. “Since he obviously can’t come past the Hogwarts wards he’s going to be on the outskirts of them. Far enough from Hogsmeade and far enough from Hogwarts. But Scott was the one who brought this one up to me. Wanna explain bud?”

Scott scooched closer with a smile. “I began thinking about how Deucalion was even going to come into the Forbidden Forest. He can’t obviously walk with a crowd of fifty people through Hogsmeade, people would be suspicious, nor can he just apparate all into the same spot because the apparition noise would be loud and alert people. So I was thinking that Deucalion is going to have an illegal portkey somewhere set up around the forest and I was thinking he already has.”

“What do you mean?” Derek asked.

“Deucalion, Kali, and Ennis came last year in October when your uncle bit me. Still not over it, by the way. It was stupid and risky of them to come to Hogsmeade someone would obviously recognize them but they still came. When we were fighting them I cast a Bombarda on Deucalion and it sent him flying into the Forbidden Forest. He didn’t come back and I’m guessing he set the portkey somewhere around the forest. Running into all of us was just coincidence to their plan.”

Stiles continued for his friend. “Now finding the portkey and disposing it would probably be the best move. Stop him from him coming in the first place and nobody dies, but there’s nada. Scott and I already went into the forest looking for it hoping that he could maybe smell the magic, but there’s so much magical disturbance coming from Hogwarts its masking the scent and the signature so not even wizards can’t find it. Only Deucalion would know what and where it is.”

“So we’re screwed?” Isaac asked, peeking over Derek’s shoulder.

“Not necessarily.” Stiles said, getting his bearings that Isaac was here. “We know what day he is coming and exactly what time the lunar eclipse is supposed to happen all we have to do is be ready for them.”

Derek scoffed. “You have no idea who Deucalion is do you? Our kind calls him the Demon Wolf. He’s the strongest Alpha on the western front. It’s going to take probably all of us to take him down.”

“Well…” Stiles began rifling through several folders. “Ok this was my dad’s first case when they had first caught Deucalion’s pack after a family of hunters from Romania killed his pack. The hunters used fiendfyre and mixed it with mountain ash to contain him. No matter how strong Deucalion is, he isn’t going to be immune to fire.”

“No.” Isaac said, speaking up again.

Stiles looked taken back. He turned to Derek. “Why did you bite him?”

Isaac glared at Stiles. “Besides the fact that fiendfyre is extremely difficult to control and very very few wizards know how to cast it,  setting a fire in a completely flammable forest is not a good idea.” Isaac stated.

“Why? We’ll put the flames out.”

“Isaac’s right,” Erica muttered, holding her nose. “I’ve read on the Forbidden Forest and it’s a thousands of years old. Who knows what magic you might disturb by burning a few trees? Fire is out unless its small but I doubt a small flame will hurt a werewolf.”

Derek agreed with his Betas. “Agreed. Flames are out, we can’t take that chance.”

“Great, that rules out about most of the plan then.” Stiles groaned. “I say then we go with your plan. Which is?”

“I was planning on converting a few students. After Isaac and Erica I’ll probably only convert one more. And then during the summer I was going to train them with Laura and how to fight.”

“Ok then, that settles it. Scott will join you guys.”

“What?” Derek and Scott said in tandem.

“Scott is joining you guys. We were serious that we were going to help.”

Derek rolled his eyes and let out a large huff. “Fine, but only because you are helping. This does not mean you two are pack.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it bud,” Stiles said gathering all the files to go and putting them in some nonsensical order that probably only made sense to him. “So who wants to play exploding snap?”

Derek groaned and walked to the opposite side of the room. He was actually content Stiles and Scott were willing to help. He would need it. Plus, after the wolfsbane incident he had found his hate toward Stiles turn to merely annoyance and toleration. Which wasn’t that bad considering Stiles’ annoying personality.

He sensed Erica finally depart from him after a good half an hour and play exploding snap with the others. Erica and Cora made a vicious team against the boys. He found himself chuckling softly at the sight. They all heard his laugh. They each gave him a smile before returning to their game. The only one who didn’t smile was Stiles who was still staring at him. His scent smelled like amusement though. Stiles raised a curious brow in Derek’s direction, the beginning of a smirk pulling at his lips. Derek rolled his eyes and Stiles rolled his eyes with a smile as well before turning to the game.

Derek released a breath, shutting his eyes, where he proceeded to study mentally for his OWLs tests.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much everyone for reviewing. I guess we are entering pre-slash? At least, I think so Derek and Stiles are beginning to tolerate each other. More about Stiles will be revealed next chapter and throughout the story. 
> 
> Tell me what you think of their interactions and maybe would you like to see.


	16. The Board Back Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek bites his last candidate and Stiles finally uncovers what he is.

It was around the last week of June and Stiles was antsy to already go on break. He had finished all his finals except for Ancient Runes and just wanted the test to be over so he could go prank the Great Hall before he left. He tapped his foot impatiently as their professor dragged on about nonsense. Stiles perfected his selective attention as he only began to focus when the professor mentioned the word test.

“This test will be done in groups of three, instead of one. I didn’t realize I made it difficult and frankly they don’t pay me enough to redo the test.” The professor looked at his class expectantly, but all the fourth years were eyeing him with confusion. “What are you waiting for? Get up! Get into groups!”

The students scrambled and before Stiles could move he saw that Lydia sat next him. She hummed in acknowledgment and flicked a strawberry blonde lock over her shoulder.

“Uh….” Stiles gaped, he was sure he was drooling at the closeness of his beloved Lydia.

“I want an Outstanding, Stilinski, don’t get too excited.” She leaned over to pull out a piece of parchment for their group. Stiles couldn’t help but notice her elegant script as she wrote down her name and then his under. Oh wasn’t that perfect. Lydia and Stiles.

“Same.” Boyd said, joining their group with a heap as he threw his bag at Stiles. He saved himself the embarrassment of toppling over by catching the bag in time.

“What? I don’t have a say in this.”

“No, you don’t.” Boyd and Lydia said in tandem. Which was creepy as fuck because he was positive the two had never spoken before this test.

They turned toward their professor, who began passing the exam face down. “All right. I’m passing out a document that you will first determine the period the ancient runes originate and then translate the passage, you are allowed to use your books and I have a pile of reference books in the back of the room if you need them. You will get extra credit if you determine the purpose of the document, whether it is a spell, a potion, both, etcetera. The document is short, so do not underestimate its difficulty. Runeologist found only a section of this document as a translation from an earlier more complicated rune dating so it obviously missing key elements. Runeologist do not yet know the context of this document and have already established that the document is anonymous and remember that anonymous is usually synonymous with the general public so remember that when you are taking the test. You have exactly one hour…You may begin—now.”

Stiles grabbed the paper and flipped it immediately. All three scanned the paper quickly trying to look for clues in the arrangement of the runes to determine the period.

“Ancient Greece around 780-800 BCE.” Lydia spoke up.

“No.” Boyd said quickly and ignored the gasp Lydia released. “The river symbol is different. I would say Roman same period but written by someone Greek, judging by the cleanness of the runespoor there.”

Lydia examined the paper and nodded. “You’re right,” and wrote it down on her piece of parchment.

Stiles was surprised that Boyd corrected Lydia as he was almost always quiet in class. He had no idea that Boyd was even good at Ancient Runes.

The document was difficult even between the three; he couldn’t imagine how the other students were doing. He took a small moment to look up and saw the others were whispering lowly and scratching their heads. After half an hour,they had managed to solve half the document and Stiles deduced that the document was a dark ritual as he saw the rune for blood more than once.

Nearly fifty minutes later, the three thought they had the document fully down.

Lydia took their finished test. “Ok so it reads I prayed to the full moon and she gave me a vision from the heavens. I followed the full moon and—“

“Wait.” Stiles interrupted, stealing the paper from Lydia. “Something doesn’t seem right.”

“The heavens part right…that seems awkward for me,” Lydia sighed, looking into her ancient runes book.

“No. I’m pretty sure that’s right. It’s the full moon part. If this person is Greek why would they refer to the moon as just a moon. They had specific names for everything, right?”

Boyd and Lydia nodded.

“So let’s say he’s praying to a God, that would make sense for him—“

“Or her—“ Lydia interrupted.

“Or her praying to the full moon. What Gods are related to the moon in Greek mythology?”

“Selene, Artemis, Hecate.” Lydia answered automatically.

“No. They have their own special rune combination,” Boyd said. “And each of them represents crescent moons phases very rarely a full moon.”

“That means that this God has its rune synonymous with the full moon rune.” Lydia said. “But who?”

“I don’t know,” Boyd said. “I think it would be a less mentioned deity and I don’t know about those that well.”

“What about you? You have an affinity apparently for this sort of thing.” Lydia asked with a twinkle in her eyes.

Stiles back tracked and stuttered. “What do you mean?”

“You know _random facts_.”

“Ah. No I’m stumped on this one. But—“ Stiles said standing quickly and nearly stumbling out of his chair as he headed to the back of the room to get the reference book. There were several useless books and Stiles tore at the pile trying to find a book on Greek mythology. He could hear the professor shouting at him from the front of the room, but he went on until he found the book of his choosing. He grabbed it and ran back to his group, shaking his table harshly and nearly knocking over Lydia’s ink bowl.

The book he got was a large tome and he flipped quickly through it trying to find the right information.

“Three minutes!” The professor called.

“Hurry up, Stilinski,” Boyd ordered.

“What do you think I’m doing?” Stiles bit back and then exclaimed loudly. “Found it! A daughter of Zeus and the goddess Selene conceived out of love, bared a daughter—“Stiles paused. The name. It sounded so familiar. He stared at it for a long time and then it him.

“ _Stiles, the name_ ,” Lydia ordered.

Stiles shook his head and finished “—Bared a daughter Pandia, meaning all brightness and personifying the full moon.”

“Pandia?”

Stiles nodded. That’s what the centaurs had said. He barely registered Lydia crossing out the parchment and writing in place of full moon, Pandia.

“Ok so revised version, I prayed to Pandia and she gave me a vision from the heavens. I followed Pandia and gathered my children by the riverbank; I cleansed their being and soaked them in the river. I sliced their skin with spells that made their blood flow in the river with their raw untaught magic. Their blood turned clear in the water and when Pandia shone down on them, she overflowed them with pure magic.” Lydia paused and turned to Boyd and Stiles. “Good.”

Boyd smiled and Stiles could barely comprehend what was happening. The centaurs had called him a Son of Pandia, it could not be a coincidence could it. Moons. Werewolves. Natural Werewolf Repellent. The Magical Outburst. The Woman in the Dungeon. Was the Woman in the Dungeon Pandia herself? No, it couldn’t be possible.

“Mr. Stilinski?”

Stiles jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder and when he stood he noticed the room to be empty.  

“Class is over.”

“Right. Of course. Um Professor, do you think I could borrow this book.” Stiles grabbed the reference book, showing the cover.

“Last time I lent you a book it was entirely covered by a very bright highlighting charm.”

“But that’s how I study. Everything’s important you know.”

“No, Mr. Stilinski.”

“But.”

“No.”

“I promise, I’ll return it tomorrow without any markings, if not, you can give me a week’s worth detention.”

“Detention doesn’t faze you Mr. Stilinski. Now if you may, it’s the lunch hour and I would like to head down to the Great Hall.”

“You can take House Points away! Slytherin is in the lead and any House Points would give Ravenclaw the advantage.” Stiles shouted.

The professor sighed. “Fine. I want that thing by tomorrow afternoon in my office.”

Stiles nodded and grabbed the book running down the stairs three at a time, which was a big mistake because he had to grab the banister several times to not fall. He ran into the Great Hall in a flurry of flailing arms and legs and sat down on his usual seat on the Gryffindor table.

“Where’s Scott?” He asked when he noticed his best friend was missing.

“Asking Professor Harris for extra credit on an assignment. He’ll be here in a few after Harris tells him no.” Cora sighed.

“Oh.”

“What’s up? You’re feet are shaking obnoxiously; it makes me want to rip them shove them in your mouth. Wouldn’t be much of a difference though you always seem to have one foot lodged in there.”

“Threats don’t run in your family do they? Tell Derek to take lessons from you. His snarling is getting cute.”

“Will do, but really you need to stop with the shaking.”

Stiles forced his legs to remain still. It wasn’t very easy. He leaned forward, making sure no one was listening before he spoke. “Do you remember a few months ago when we were in the Forbidden Forest getting the arrow to save your brother?”

“…Yeah?” She bit into her sandwich obnoxiously. Stiles bit his tongue to stop from laughing, the eating was a habit she obviously picked up from them.

“Do you remember what the centaur told me?”

“I was panicking, didn’t have time to pay attention to how a centaur insulted you, Stiles.”

“He didn’t insult me!”

Cora raised a brow as she chewed her food.

“Not everyone finds the need to treat me like their chew toy, Cora.”

Cora’s brow rose higher. “I thought you liked it? You take enough of it from Lydia Martin.”

“That’s different. All part of my seven year plan—but we’re getting off topic. The centaur said it wouldn’t help you but it would help me because I was a Son of Pandia.”

“Is that supposed to mean something or?”

“I don’t know does it?”

“No.”

“Hey guys,” Scott said, sitting down beside Stiles.

“He said no?” Stiles and Cora asked in tandem,

“He said no.”

“Told you so,” Cora said, grabbing chips from a bowl on Scott’s left.

Stiles and Scott began to get their own food. Stiles wanted to ask Scott about Pandia but he doubted his friend would have any information on Pandia. He had already told him what the centaurs had told him weeks ago, but Scott didn’t think much of it. Maybe Stiles was looking too much into things. He bit into his sandwich, cramming as much food as he could.

“You’re disgusting.” Cora remarked.

Stiles showed her his chewed food fondly. Cora glared and kicked Stiles’ shin. Stiles nearly choked on his food. “Scott, do something.”

“You deserved it.”

Stiles glared, getting an idea. “Cora, weren’t you planning on releasing your wrath on Scott today for losing the bet?”

Cora’s eyes opened wide. “Oh right! Thank you for reminding me.” She stood up, dragging Scott with her.

“Wait, no!” Scott screeched.

Stiles laughed following the pair.

They headed to the Gryffindor Tower. It was mostly empty as students were procrastinating with the idea that they needed to pack for the summer holidays.

“Since you can’t come to my room, I’ll meet you at yours.” Cora ordered as she retreated to the girl dormitories.

Scott tried to run, but Stiles cast a rope charm and forcibly pulled his friend into his room. “You’re lucky, you’re roommates aren’t here. They wouldn’t let you live this down.” Stiles grunted, pulling him up the stairs. With a simple levitation charm, Stiles had Scott on his bed.

Scott looked panicked, but then as Cora emerged in the room with a box and clothes, he sighed in resignation. “No, you know what I can do this. There is no shame in wearing women’s clothes. They’re just clothes. Why are they even gendered anyway?”

“That’s the spirit,” Stiles beamed, sitting on Scott’s bed.

Cora grinned too. “All right, clothes off, but underwear on please.”

Ignoring Cora’s wishes would result in hellfire so Scott was did as he was told. Stiles trailed happily as Cora dragged Scott into the showers.

“Hey, that’s cold!” Scott screamed, flailing his limbs trying to get away from the spray.

Cora rolled her eyes and then shut off the water, pushing Scott to sit on the tile floor. He sputtered water out of his mouth and shook his head. Stiles held back the dog jokes mainly from fear that Cora would direct her advances on him.

Cora grabbed her box and pulled out a purple bottle. She sprayed the cream on Scott’s legs where it turned into a foam. “Hey that isn’t that bad.” Scott said as Cora put the foam all over his legs.

“Wait for it.” She smiled.

Thirty seconds later, Scott was screaming. “Oh my god! What is that?”

“Shaving cream for women. It is literally digging itself into all of your follicles and burning your hair.”

Stiles laughed. “You had to bet against Slytherin.” Stiles shot out to his friend.

“When can I take it off?” Scott hissed.

“When it stops burning.” She said.

“You girls have to do this every day?”

“Yup. Sucks right?”

After Scott dealt for an excruciating three minutes, Cora turned on the faucet again to wash away all the cream. Scott looked at his legs, they were tinged red but his werewolf abilities were slowly returning him to his natural color.

Cora once more manhandled Scott back into the room where Cora forced him into the girl uniform. “Now, Heather said she doesn’t want any stains on her clothes, ok?”

Scott nodded, putting on the skirt. “Uh is this me or is this shorter than the other uniforms.”

Cora shrugged. “Heather likes her skirt shorter than other girls.”

“Oh, bless Heather’s heart,” Stiles commented.

Scott yelped and when Cora began to put heels on him.

Stiles continued laughing the whole way through even when Cora was applying makeup on him. When she was done, Scott looked at himself in the mirror.

“Take in Scott.” Stiles stated, patting his friend in the back. “You are a very hot girl.”

“I am the hot girl.” He repeated with a soft smile.

“Great, second part of the bet,” Cora stated, dragging him out of the room and into the common room. “Entire day of walking with me.”

The entire school was in hysterics when Scott was walking around in the castle in the girl uniform. Several people stopped to take pictures and Scott, after a while, began to find the fun in it. He did several poses with people who wanted to take pictures with him. Stiles was certain of one thing, Scott had no hope of becoming a professional model.

“McCall! Hale!”

A shout was heard down the hallway, midway of Scott taking a group picture with a few third year Ravenclaws. Everyone turned around and saw the Gryffindor Captain approach. Scott blushed a deep red when the Captain looked him up and down. When the Captain saw Stiles laughing, he decided not to question it.

“Uh, I missed you two in the common room yesterday.” The Captain said.

“Sorry we got detention,” Scott said, pulling at his skirt.

“Oh. Harris?”

“Blake.” Cora and Scott said in tandem.

“Ouch. Well I just wanted to inform you of some great news. Since I am leaving this year, I felt it was most appropriate to hand over the Captain position to the most dedicated and best Quidditch players, Gryffindor has ever had. Cora, Scott, you are now both co-captains for next year.”

Cora and Scott gasped in shock. It was Scott who reacted first, lifting Cora into the air and twirling, which was utterly ridiculous in Stiles’ opinion as Scott’s skirt flared behind him. Cora laughed when Scott put her down. “You serious?”

“Yup position is all yours. If you have any questions don’t be afraid to send me a letter, k?”

Both fourth years nodded and couldn’t stop smiling when the Captain left. Stiles was there to bring both his friends into a hug. “Congrats guys. I’m sure you’ll make awesome captains. At least better than Jackson.”

“Jackson got it?” Cora asked.

Stiles nodded. “Yeah, but the captain told Danny to keep an eye on Jackson and not let him get power hungry. I say though, this calls for a celebration.”

Both Gryffindors agreed, heading to the kitchens.

After a celebratory cake made by the house elves, the three left the kitchens about an hour later. Stiles parted with the Gryffindors who headed back to the tower, while Stiles headed to his Ancient Runes Professor to return the book. He had read the entire page on Pandia, but there was not much. It merely stated that she was a lesser known deity and she represented the full moon. There was no other back story on her other than she was created out of love, which if Stiles remembered correctly rarely happened in Greek Mythology. Stiles was running up the stairs and stopped when he saw Headmaster Deaton. “Oh fucking Merlin, you’re here.”

Deaton gave him a disapproving stare for his language and continued to walk, most likely to his office. “Yes I am here, my sister volunteered to take a shift while I do paperwork.” Deaton said, very much aware that Stiles already knew of Derek’s family members.

“What kind of paperwork?”

“Paperwork. Now if you may, I’m busy at the moment.”

Stiles gave a mock salute to let his Headmaster go, but then Stiles remembered the book he was holding in his hand. Would Deaton know? After all he was an emissary and was required to know about full moon lore because of werewolves right?

“Actually, Headmaster,” Stiles ran and caught up with him. “I think I need your help. It’s kind of important.”

“Stiles, if this is about you sneaking into the Shrieking Shack every full moon. I am already aware, my sister told me.”

“What? No. And Morrell has never even caught me! How does she know? Wait, no I’m getting side-tracked again. No this is about full moons and stuff.”

Deaton paused his brisk pace to look at Stiles curiously. “Come along then.”

“Sweet!” Stiles cheered and walked into the familiar Headmaster office, that he had been in due to countless detentions. He made himself comfortable on one of the plush chairs in front of Deaton’s desk and helped himself to a Bertie Botts Every Flavor Bean in a container than Deaton had set out. Marshmallow, not bad.

“Ok, so explain,” Deaton said, after he put several files away.

Stiles took a large breath and began to explain everything that had happened in February, making sure to leave nothing out about Derek getting shot by centaurs, the wolfsbane, the forest, and what the centaurs had called him. Stiles had even told him about the strange red magic that appeared when a werewolf was going to attack him. “So what does it mean that I’m a Son of Pandia?”

“Are you positive that’s what the centaur said?”

“Yes.”

“My sister was the one who had theorized you were one of them, but with a centaur’s acute sense of magic, I can confirm it to be true now.”

“One of what?”

“Your kind calls themselves Moonwalkers.”

“Moonwalkers. You’re kidding me right? What does that even mean? And I’m sorry but that’s a terrible name. Who would willingly declare themselves a Moonwalker?” Stiles laughed.

Deaton ignored him. “It is said that Pandia a Greek Goddess took a witch and brought her to the moon, whether figuratively or literally that’s up for debate, but the witch, as the story goes, walked on the moon, hence the name.”

Stiles laughed again, disbelieving. “I’m sorry but pagan gods? Really, I know we live in a magical world but really? That’s completely farfetched.”

“Is it? The moon holds magical properties, that’s why so many potions and plants have to be brewed and grown under the full moon. The moon must hold a power source to affect these magical properties so intricately. Why not a God who has magic of their own?”

“But then going by that logic, the world is filled with  these pagan gods and the world is dictated by them. Not to mention that there are other cultures and religions who have similar gods. Does that mean there are hundreds of gods for the moon? That just doesn’t seem possible. And thinking about it further if gods really do control our magic wouldn’t someone have noticed? Wouldn’t there be a lot more research for them?”

“Perhaps there is one moon God under different names or even more radical, one God in different forms.” Deaton paused. “This upsets you.”

“I’m just trying to wrap my mind around this. So I’m a Moonwalker. Ok so what does that mean?”

Deaton sighed. “I’m not really positive of their exact power or why they were created. I know they can command werewolves because werewolves are under the pull of the moon, and Moonwalkers have moon magic running through their veins. It is logical werewolves would feel the same sway with them. But other than that I am not sure. Most of my knowledge comes from my sister and that’s all she really knows.”

“How does she know?”

“By this point you know she was an emissary to Deucalion, right?”

“Right.”

“Well Deucalion’s lineage is one of the oldest ever recorded. Their line can be traced to Ancient Greek and Roman times, the same for the emissary. It’s recorded that they came in contact with one of the children of the first Moonwalker. And the record hasn’t ever been disputed considering the time that emissary duties were created. The first Moonwalker was the one to assign emissaries to werewolves, the loyalty drawn in blood of a human and a werewolf, an ancient binding spell. The practice of assigning a human to guide the pack has been practiced even till now.”

Stiles paused. “So there is one witch who was a Moonwalker and passed down this special magic to her kids?”

“Yes.”

“Then that means I am related to her.”

“Yes.” Deaton said.

“Who was she?”

Deaton paused, seeming to think of a calm way to explain it but when he couldn’t think of any, he just blurted it out. “Rhea _Silvia_.”

Stiles spluttered. “What? Silvia! Like my mom? But it’s not possible for a family name to survive that long. I mean death or just having daughters, the line would break.”

“Apparently it didn’t. Your mother was a Moonwalker, whether she knew that was another matter.”

Stiles paused, thinking everything over. When he thought too long, he felt the heavy weight along his neck. He grabbed his pendant, pulling it into view.  “She did know.” He whispered.

“What?”

“She used to tell me don’t walk on the moon Stiles. Don’t walk on the moon.” Stiles’ eyes glazed over at the realization. “Did being a Moonwalker kill her?! Fucking Merlin. Is it going to kill me?”

“I really don’t know Stiles. Information about them has been lost to nearly everyone, but I’m sure there are Moonwalkers who are cognizant of what they are. I could find one for you. I’m sure they would explain it better than I can, but that’s the most I can manage.”  

Stiles couldn’t believe it.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me? You knew.” Stiles questioned, anger bubbling.

“Protection, mostly.”

“From what.”

Deaton sighed heavily. “Things that are meant to occur. Keeping you in the dark, I believed that perhaps I could stop it. I see clearly that I cannot meddle in the affairs of what is inevitable.”

“What things?” Stiles asked. He was growing exasperated quickly that Deaton was hiding too much.

Deaton eyes narrowed in scrutiny and then changed the conversation. “Your mother told you not to walk on the moon?”

“Yeah. Multiple times.”

“Then perhaps she was aware of the inevitable as well you should seek answers from her.”

“She’s dead.” Stiles spat, he really was growing frustrated. He wondered how much trouble he could get by hexing a professor.

“I’m positive she left traces of her magic so you could understand.”

“Understand what? What’s going to happen?”

“I’ve already said too much.”

“And I say not enough. This is my life. Mine!” Stiles didn’t care he sounded like a caveman. It was his life.

“I really cannot say. You need to trust me on this. Just like you trusted your mother. Her telling you to not practice the art of Moonwalker magic was her trying to stop what’s going to happen. If she did not find the need to tell you what is going to happen then I shall not tell you as well.”

Stiles’ heart beated rapidly, but whether in frustration or shock, he wasn’t entirely sure. His mother was part of this nonsense? Did his dad know? It wasn’t likely. He remembered his father thinking his mother had lost her mind when she was close to dying. Not wanting to have memories of his mother in front of Deaton, Stiles picked up his stuff. “Thank you Deaton. I appreciate the help.” He muttered sarcastically. “Uh before I forget, Derek wanted all of us to meet up in the summer to plan, for you know, killing Deucalion and all.” And with that he left, already feeling the sting of tears.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Derek felt desperate as the week went on. There were only three more days before he had to leave Hogwarts and head home with the other students, but Derek was not ready. He needed to convert one more student, he just didn’t know who. He was tempted to walk the crowded halls and pull the first student he saw into an abandoned classroom and bite them without hesitation, but Derek had more willpower than that. He decided to head to his room to gather his thoughts and think about potential students to turn and work his way from there.

He tapped his hands against the barrells by the Hufflepuff door and watched the door open for him. He climbed inside and headed straight to his room, knowing that his roommates would not be there. They said something about visiting Hogsmeade one last time, Derek couldn’t be bothered to care. As he made his way to his room though, he felt someone following him.

Derek was tempted to pause, but thought against it and walked into his dorm, leaving the door open. He sat at his bed and looked to the door. A few seconds later a black, strong, and tall boy walked into the dorm and shut the door.

“Whatever you did to Erica, I want it.”

Derek grinned. Was this a candidate coming to him? “Who are you?”

“Boyd.”

“You’re gonna have to give me more than that.”

“Vernon Boyd.”

“That’s better. But I’m afraid, Erica has never mentioned you. How am I to trust you?” It was true. Derek had spent more time hanging out with Isaac and Erica, making room for them to at least enjoy meals together and he couldn’t recall Erica ever mentioning this Boyd.

“She’s my friend.” Boyd glared. “And I know you did something to her and cured her. She can’t stop talking about you.”

“Is that so?” Derek said and went over to his trunk. He should start packing, he thought absentmindedly. He paid no attention to Boyd and began looking for his stuff littered around the Hufflepuff room. Boyd remained where he was at the foot of the door and arms crossed over his chest. “Do you mind?” Derek remarked.

Boyd glared. He marched to Derek’s bed and grabbed Derek’s empty trunk, flinging it on the bed. “Alpha, Beta, Omega.” Boyd said calmly, as he pointed to the ancient rune symbol that was etched on Derek’s trunk. Derek froze, meeting Boyd’s eyes. Boyd sat on the bed opposite of Derek’s.

“That’s not what it means,” Derek countered, quickly even though he was right. “It represents—”

“Bullshit. I know you’re a werewolf. I’ve known since you bit Erica. And since you’ve been hanging around Lahey I know he is one too. I wouldn’t even put it past that Scott McCall from Gryffindor is too. So give me the bite.”

“Why do you want it?” Derek asked.

“For the reason you gave it to Erica.”

“I gave her the bite for a cure. You’re perfectly healthy; why do you need it.”

“You’re an idiot if you think Erica wanted the bite for a cure. She wanted it to fit in.”

Derek sat on his bed, across from Boyd. “And you want it to fit it in? Isn’t that ironic?”

“I can help with whatever you want.”

Derek pursed his lips and took the time to look Boyd over. Smart obviously, if he determined what he was and even determining what Scott was. He seemed strong underneath his muggle clothes, but Derek couldn’t be sure. But that was it, he didn’t have anything special about him like Isaac or Erica. Yes, he wanted to fit in but every teenager felt that way. If he was going to turn Boyd because he wanted to fit in then Derek should convert everyone in the castle.

“Do you even know what you would be helping with?” Derek scrutinized.

Boyd said nothing for a moment. “To help make your pack stronger.”

That was one part of it but not the entirety but Derek did not want to correct him. “And you think you can do that?”

Boyd finally broke eye contact with him and looked past Derek’s shoulder. “A creature who is not affiliated with any pack who then joins one is most likely to give utmost loyalty to that pack whatever the cost.”

Derek looked at Boyd and he understood. Boyd did not want to fit in—far from it. The boy was utterly alone. He wanted friends. He wanted a pack. And Derek was going to give it to him.

“Come over here,” Derek said, pushing his trunk off the bed. He pulled his wand to lock the door and silenced the room for extra precaution. Boyd sat next to him. “I can’t guarantee you will survive.”

“I understand.” Boyd said.

Derek nodded and grabbed Boyd’s wrist, pulling him closer to bite into his arm. Boyd cried out in pain and Derek noticed he lifted his other arm to bite into his knuckles. Derek released him and tried not to lick his lips. He did not want the flavor of blood to coat his entire mouth.

“How do you feel?” Derek asked, grabbing a random shirt to spit into it.

“Good.” Boyd said, as he put pressure on the wound.

His face was determined and strong. Derek grinned.

 

|~~***~~|

 

They had only been on the train for five minutes and Derek was already dying to get to King’s Cross. Even with Cora, popping the window open, it still couldn’t dissolve Stiles’ strong scent and it was just Derek’s luck that Stiles was pressed against Derek’s side. A compartment was only meant for six people max and having seven inside was making it unbearable. Across from him, Cora, Erica, and Boyd sat together in their respective seats while Isaac, Scott, Stiles, and Derek squeezed into the opposite bench. They weren’t entirely crowded by the fact that Stiles’ body was nearly all sprawled on Scott’s body, but the fourteen year old definitely had a problem with all his limbs as they occasionally hit Derek making his nostrils flare.

He had no idea why he decided to listen to Cora to sit all of them in one compartment. He missed the days when it was just the two of them in a single compartment—but that was an outright lie. As the sun illuminated the bright faces of his pack, and even Scott and Stiles, Derek felt safe.

He banged his head against the window and tried to breathe anything other than Stiles. It was impossible though.

He knew they were talking but Derek couldn’t be bothered to pay attention. He did know though, when the conversation touched upon exciting matters because Derek could feel Stiles vibrating in his seat and a scent of joy roll off him. It did nothing to help him try to get rid of the scent, but it did make him feel slightly relieved that he was smelling joy instead of other emotions. The days leading up to summer vacation, Derek had only been smelling the distinct smell of confusion and sadness seeping from the younger teen. So, smelling that was better. Why it was, Derek didn’t really understand. He tried to defend his reasoning by merely stating that a joyful smell was more pleasing to the nose than sadness mixed with Stiles’ usual reek that followed him wherever he went. But that was only half right. He knew deep down he was slowly growing worried for the other teen. But he didn’t want to admit that so easily yet.

It was not until Boyd stood up that Derek bothered to acknowledge the others.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I need a breather from that.” Boyd said, pointing to Stiles.

Stiles smiled sarcastically. “Do whatever you need to man, does anyone need to escape the awesomeness of Stilinski? I promise I won’t be offended too badly if you decide to leave for a bit.”

All the werewolves, except Scott, stood up, leaving the compartment. Derek could hear Stiles whine to Scott and ask him for what felt like the hundredth time if he really did smell that bad. No one bothered to answer. Derek left the compartment door open, letting it air out and walked with his pack to dining cart.

It was several hours later when Derek felt the train begin to slow. He stretched as best as he could in the crowded compartment and looked around. Cora had a book open on her lap while her head was pressed against the window. Erica was snuggled into her side while her legs were on Boyd’s lap. Boyd held her legs tightly as his head was against the backrest. On his side, he could see Isaac, sprawl his long limbs tangling them with Boyd. Scott and Stiles made the biggest sight. Stiles had somehow contortioned himself so he was on Scott’s lap and snoring loudly while Scott was drooling in Stiles’ neck.

When the train finally stopped in an abrupt shake, the Betas’ eyes turned yellow but quickly reverted to normal when they took in their surroundings. Derek shook his head and already began heading straight to the luggage carriage. The others were there following.

Derek went to grab Erica’s trunk as it was out of her reach, but then a familiar smell hit him. Derek dropped the trunk that Erica barely caught in time. Derek followed his nose and walked as fast he could without drawing attention. He didn’t mutter apologies as he pushed and stepped in front of others. They didn’t matter.

_“What’s up?”_

Only she mattered.

“Laura,” Derek gasped.

He wanted to throw himself at his sister, but Derek hadn’t shown physical affection in years. It was primarily his fault as he had distanced himself from his siblings and at this moment he wished he hadn’t. He no longer knew how to initiate affection.

But thankfully, Laura knew. She took a step forward, arms outstretched and hugged Derek. He was taller now as he embraced her and clenched his hands in her hair. She hugged him back as tightly. Derek could feel a bit of her werewolf strength into the hug as some of his muscles ached at the pressure. When he finally pulled away, he looked at her with utmost adoration.

She was fine-more than fine. He hadn’t seen her look so healthy since the fire. “We have a lot of talking to do,” There was a warning in her voice but her smile was betraying her words. Derek couldn’t help but smile either. He saw a flash of brown hair fly by him and noticed Cora throw herself at Laura too. Cora held tightly onto her sister while Laura hugged her just as viciously as she had done with Derek, as she rested her head on Cora’s.

When they pulled away, Derek barely noticed his Betas behind him and he felt slightly guilty as he saw Boyd carrying his trunk. Derek silently thanked him and took the trunk and licked his lips as he stood in between his Betas and Laura. “Uh Laura, I would like you to meet a few people.”

Laura’s eyebrow quirked as she smiled softly looking them over. “Deaton told me already. They’re beautiful, Der-Bear.”

Isaac,Erica, and Cora snickered while Boyd smiled. Derek glared at his older sister. She gave him an amused glint.

“I’m Laura Hale.” She motioned to shake each of their hands and they all introduced themselves shyly.

Laura laughed as she took them in.

“You’re not mad?” He asked tentatively.

Laura pursed her lips, but took one look at the new Betas. She shook her head. “No, but this does not mean you are out of a talking.”

Derek rolled his eyes, Laura slapped his shoulder roughly. “Don’t sass me. Now, how bout we head to the car and head home?”

“Car?” Isaac asked.

Laura nodded. “Why? Scared of muggle transportation?”

Isaac shook his head. “No, it’s just I’ve never been on anything other than the train.”

“Then let’s make this a good a ride. Here, I’ll take your bag.” She said grabbing Isaac’s trunk.

“You don’t have to.” Isaac retorted, sending a panic glance at Derek.

“No, please, after being cooped in a house for months I’ve been dying to get some exercise. Maybe we’ll go out for a run.”

They headed to the parking lot and Derek paused as Laura pulled out her keys to open a very  obvious soccer mom car. “What happened to the Camaro?” Derek asked, obviously disgruntled.

Laura opened the trunk and everyone put their stuff inside. “Sold it. Not suitable in any shape or form.” Laura said as she climbed into the driver side. Derek froze. How could she sell the Camaro? He watched Cora climb into the passenger seat while, Isaac climbed into the back row and Erica and Boyd took the middle row.

“Kidding Derek!” Laura shouted.

Derek huffed and climbed in shutting the door. “Is Der-Bear always this easy?” Laura asked the others.

“He’s kind of quiet, mostly broods,” Erica answered.

Laura laughed, as she began exiting the parking lot. “Oh why Der-Bear I told you. You need to show off those pearly whites to make more friends.”

Everyone in the car laughed, except Derek. Leave it to his sister to regain all her humor after almost dying. “Stop calling me that.”

“But that’s what everyone used to call you.” Laura took a peek behind her shoulder to grin at him. Derek rolled his eyes when her eyes went back to the road. “I felt that!”

Derek slouched in his seat. He glared as Boyd made a whip noise, causing everyone to laugh again.

“Oh, I’m gonna love having them in the house.” Laura remarked. “Which by the way how are your parents taking this?”

There was a small pause. Erica was the first to speak. “Well my parents know.”

“What?” Derek asked. He wasn’t aware that Erica had even told them. He wondered how they took it seeing as both of them were muggles.

“Yeah, I had to tell them. I thought they would find it odd if I came home all cured. They didn’t really care and I think that’s because they don’t really know what being a werewolf means. Said it can’t be any stranger than finding out their daughter is a witch. They said I can stay over but have to go home during the weekends.”

“What about you boys?” Laura asked. “Do I have parental permission to house two werewolves?”

“My situation is the same as Erica’s.” Boyd said straight to the point.

Isaac was quiet and Derek sensed the nervousness from him. He spoke up for his Beta. “Isaac will be living with us from here on out.”

Laura turned back for a few seconds with confusion. Derek caught her eye and silently told her he would tell her later. Laura nodded. She continued driving and it was silent for a good ten minutes until Derek felt Isaac lean against the seat and whisper against his ear, “Dude, your sister is hot.”

Laura chortled while Derek groaned.

“Werewolf hearing, Isaac. But thank you, I’m flattered.” Laura called from the driver seat.

Derek pushed Isaac into his seat and looked to the streets. It didn’t take long to get home. Laura pushed open the front door and turned to the stairs. “All right Erica you’ll be sharing with Cora. I already put a spare bed in there. Cora can you show the boys the spare room?” Cora nodded and told everyone to follow. Derek watched his pack ascend the stairs and then turned to his sister.

“I’m sorry. I know you didn’t want me to do this.” He said immediately.

Laura sighed, leaning against the banister. “You’re right. I didn’t. I still don’t. As I am your older sister, I think I’m the most entitled to tell you that you are being extremely hypocritical. What you are doing is no different from what Peter wanted.”

“Laura…”

“No. Let me finish.” She took a look up the stairs and walked into the kitchen. Derek got the message. Stepping into the white kitchen, Laura cast a silencing charm. She turned away from Derek, looking out the kitchen window. “You are doing the same as Peter but without the same intentions. Peter, the night he attacked me made me realize he’s not our same uncle. And I get it you know, he watched his husband and children die. It must have been devastating and I doubt anyone comes out of watching a horror like that the same ever again. But you should have heard him when he attacked me. He was spouting that he had all werewolf interests at heart, that he wanted to go public on our lycanthropy. But that’s idiotic and reckless. People would kill us and that’s just how this society works whether we like it or not. But Peter. His means to achieve all of that is to convert people and stop Deucalion. And if he miraculously does, what then? He would have a bunch of newly converted werewolves on his hands and then Peter would brainwash them into hating wizards who hate werewolves. That isn’t the way to create order and have people accept us. That’s just fueling more hate and Peter would be ok with that because he thinks he’s righteous. He’s not righteous. He’s someone who's craving the taste of spilled blood. His obsession to stop Deucalion is an excuse, Peter just wants to pick fights and he certainly can’t with the Argents locked in Azkaban so this is his outlet.”

Derek knew his sister was right. Peter was different. After the fire, Peter had reverted to his usual looking self, not even Deaton could heal everything. It was the same for all of them. He remembered Cora used to be so daring, reckless, and wild, but after the fire everything about her just dimmed. Laura was strong, bright, and overall very silly and while she was demonstrating what she used to on the ride home, Derek knew that it was a ruse. He didn’t want to call her out on it by the fact that she was trying to be herself. It was hard for her. But it was hardest for Derek when he stopped to think how much the fire had changed him. Sometimes he didn’t recognize himself.

Laura leaned her weight against the island finally looking up at Derek. “But you, Derek. I know you. You are doing this for werewolves too but you’re doing this as a means to think this will set right what you did. Even though I keep repeating that the fire wasn’t your fault.”

“But it—”

Laura raised a finger.

“Sorry.” Derek murmured. “Continue.”

“And that isn’t right either. You converted three children and they could have died. I don’t care that they didn’t. You held their life in your hand and you gambled it to suit your needs to somehow fix the guilt and trauma you have. That still isn’t right. It might not be as bad as Peter’s intentions, but it still is pretty bad. And I want you to get that through your head as you take care of these three kids. They are your responsibility, Derek.”

“I know. I’m not going to let anything bad happen to this pack ever again.”

“And it is that unrealistic attitude that worries me. You can’t protect them from everything. Things will happen that are out of your control.”

“If this is your way of talking me out of stopping Deucalion—”

“—It’s not. This is me speaking as your older sister telling you to take into account all you have done. I can’t force you to stop this war you are going to wage with Deucalion. You are of age now and you’re the Alpha; I can’t force you into anything. I just want you to understand that what you are planning is not road paved with completely good intentions. But it is a road that needs to be traveled upon. We do need to stop Deucalion. And I’m going to help you.”

“Are you serious?”

Laura released a weak smile. “Yeah and the first step in helping you, is dealing with Peter.”

“What do you mean?”

“Peter is smart and he might get in the way so I think its best for everyone, to stop the healing process on him and let him heal naturally. A few four to ten years will be the healing time. And it will serve as a grim reminder to not question an Alpha’s authority. But you’re the Alpha now, so it’s your final decision.”

Derek thought about it for a short time. His sister was always right. “I’ll tell Deaton and Morrell to stop administering the potion.”

Laura nodded. “I’ll help you train the others. It’s hard dealing with a recently bitten werewolf, I can’t imagine three.”

“Thank you.”

Laura huffed. “Don’t thank me yet, we still have a long way into stopping Deucalion.”

“Understood.” Derek looked to his sister when she got quiet. “So how have you been doing?”

Laura rolled her eyes and let out a tiny laugh. “All right. The healing process was bitch, but Deaton managed to do it. I feel better than ever.”

Derek was going to comment but their attention was averted to the entrance of the kitchen where Isaac was standing.

Laura perked up immediately. “Sorry.” She removed the silencing charm and Isaac came inside and awkwardly stood around the kitchen.

“You done packing?” Derek asked.

“Don’t have much to unpack.”

Laura leaned against the island counter, beaming brightly at Isaac. “We’ll have to fix that. I’ll take you shopping, same goes for the others. It can be a giant field trip.”

Stomping could be heard coming from the stairs as Cora ran to them. “I am not going shopping with you.” She stated in monotone.

“Same.” Derek said, walking over to the fridge to get a drink. He pulled a simple butterbeer bottle out and threw one at Isaac. Derek walked over to the living room and Isaac joined him.

“What? No, you have to come.” Laura whined.

“Last shopping trip we had, both of you punched the salesmen in the face.” Derek remarked.

“Oh he totally deserved that,” Cora defended herself. “I just refuse to go and become your personal doll.”

Isaac chuckled and Derek watched him from the corner of his eye as Isaac took in his surroundings. “What’s that?”

“Television.”

Isaac’s eyes opened wide. “Can we watch something?”

“Yeah.” Derek leaned over for the remote and turned it on. He handed the remote to Isaac. “This button changes the channel—and you have no idea what a channel is—um its like if you don’t like what you're seeing you’re turning the page in a book.” Isaac nodded and became fascinated with an infomercial on scarves. Derek half paid attention, he mostly just used the words to drown out his sisters.

“But please Cora. I know you’ll look so pretty in a dress and if we curled your hair,” Laura pleaded.

“No.” Cora said, crossing her arms.

Derek groaned and watched Boyd and Erica descend the stairs looking at the scene strangely. Erica sat on Derek’s right while Boyd took the loveseat couch to himself. “What’s going on?” Erica asked.

“Ignore them.” Derek drank from his soda.

“What are you watching Isaac?” Boyd asked.

“Television.” Isaac said, his eyes glued to the screen.

“Yeah this isn’t going to work for me,” Boyd said stealing the remote. He began to press several buttons as he pulled up the guide menu and Isaac crawled over to Boyd’s couch to watch how he maneuvered the remote.

Erica seemed content just to be sitting on the couch, but as Laura and Cora’s debate became more heated, Erica had to just be fucking curious. “Are we going shopping?” She asked.

Laura smiled and leaned against the couch. “Of course.”

Everyone could practically hear the epic eye roll that came from Cora. “I’ll be in my room.” Cora finally settled.

Derek rejoiced in the silence and some time later Erica had stolen the remote from Boyd.

“Antique Roadshow. You have terrible taste in television.” Erica remarked. She maneuvered the remote and discovered that they had Netflix, apparently it was Peter’s account. She settled on putting on something called Doctor Who. Derek found the show strange but it was entertaining nonetheless. A few minutes later Cora had come down and had taken Isaac’s previous seat. It surprised Derek that how easily all of them had come together and were watching television like any other normal family. It was exactly as a pack should be. He finally had a pack again.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait!
> 
> A few things I want to say about this chapter.
> 
> Derek finally gets the talk that he's being hypocritical from his sister.  
> Stiles has learned what he is and we will get information throughout the story what his powers are and how far they go.  
> Deaton is being fucking cryptic like usual.  
> And I think that's all...  
> Oh and since I will write chapters for the summer..I can finally say that you will finally meet Allison in fifth year!
> 
> Thank you so much for all the kudos, reviews, bookmarks, and subscribers. It always makes my day and puts a smile to my face especially since I've been stressing lately over summer session at uni. 
> 
> Would love to hear what you thought about this chapter and what you are thinking of the slow-build sterek.
> 
> My tumblr [twinklingpaopufruit](http://twinklingpaopufruit.tumblr.com/)


	17. Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Derek goes on a shopping trip, Stiles faces some memories. Meanwhile, Deucalion is not the man everyone assumes he is.

The following day, the entire pack poured into Laura’s car. Laura looked at her brother with amusement as he scanned the street. It was obvious he was looking for the Camaro. She waited for him to ask and soon enough just as she put the car into drive, there was Derek’s curiosity.

“So really, what the hell happened to the Camaro?”

Laura grinned as she pulled out the Camaro’s keys from her back pocket. “It’s in the shop getting routine maintenance. I wanted it safe to drive when I gave it to you as a present.” While Derek obviously didn’t splutter in excitement, since Derek didn’t splutter, she could still hear his heartbeat flutter.

“Seriously.”

“Yup.” She began handing the keys over her shoulder and when she heard the shift in fabric, she pulled the keys out of his reach. “It will be your present when I see your OWL scores.”

Cora laughed in the passenger seat. “Oh say goodbye to the car, Derek. He crammed for all the tests Laura. All of them.”

Laura mocked a gasped. She honestly didn’t expect anything less from her brother. He was a bit like her. He was so dutiful when it came to doing assignments that one could physically turn in but if a professor ever mentioned that their homework was to read or study both she and Derek took it as an automatic free day. So when Cora said he crammed, she wasn’t surprised. She had done the same thing her fifth. “Der-Bear I’m so disappointed.” Laura laughed.

Laura could see Derek roll his eyes from the rear view mirror. She shook her head and drove into the familiar streets. She pulled the car into the parking lot and she smiled as Isaac followed her toward the parking permit machine. He seemed so fascinated with all the muggle stuff but in general he seemed fascinated being in public and around so many people. It made her wonder what his home life was like but judging from Derek’s insistence that Isaac was going to live with them, it was easy to fill in the pieces that Isaac had grown up isolated and abused. She walked back to the car and placed the slip of paper at the dash of the car and looked at the kids.

Her eyes landed on Erica. She was dressed in baggy jeans and an old grey sweater that was faded from several cleaning charms. It made her frown. She pulled her purse strap over her shoulder and walked over to Erica, locking their arms. The girl was startled by the contact but Laura smiled.

“Onward.”

“Joy.” Derek and Cora said in tandem.

Honestly, those two were like soul sucking dementors. When they began walking in the street, Isaac quickly grew alarmed. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that with the giant letterings of shops and giant windows with elegant clothes were expensive. “I can’t pay for this.” Isaac muttered.

“Same.” Boyd stated.

“Don’t worry. Hale treat. All of you. Right Der-Bear?”

“Yes, and please stop calling me that in public.”

Laura smiled, ignoring her brother. Browsing the streets, she pulled Erica with her. As soon as the shopping commenced, the genders quickly dispersed. Laura watched Derek take Boyd and Isaac to the opposite end of the street while Laura took the girls.

She let Cora and Erica examine the clothes on their own. Cora went to her usual plain shirts and jeans, with the brand label of course. Even her sister who denied and outrighted hated shopping had a flair for the ostentatious.

In between choosing two pairs of skinny jeans and just deciding she would take both, Laura looked up. She watched curiously as Erica wandered the store, looking like a lost duckling. She set the skinny jeans down and walked over to Erica.

“Need help, sweetie.”

“I just...it’s overwhelming.”

“Well what do you like?”

Erica shrugged.

Laura glanced Erica over once and grinned. “I know exactly what, c’mon.” She said pulling her out of the store. “Cora! Erica and I are going across.”

Cora waved at them.

Laura became engrossed with choosing clothes for Erica.The girl was fascinated with everything she threw at her. She ushered Erica into the changing rooms several times to find her the appropriate sizes because apparently the girl always wore clothes too big for her.

“What are you doing?”

Laura turned around to smirk at Derek. Her nose twitched as she caught the scent of the other two boys on the opposite side of the store.

“Dressing up Erica.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “She’s not your doll, Laura.”

“What? She likes it though and can probably hear us.” She pointed to the dressing rooms that were less than six feet away. “Don’t you want your Betas to be happy.”

Derek sighed. Laura giggled like a teenager and she really shouldn’t by the fact that she was nearly twenty-three but Laura couldn’t have cared less.

“Um Laura?”

Both Hales turned when they saw Isaac carrying a bunch of clothes and scarves. “Is this ok?” Laura walked over to him and examined the tags of the clothes. All of them were expensive. As she tallied everything together it was nearly 400 pounds. She was glad that Isaac had no clue how muggle currency worked otherwise she knew the boy would put everything back.

“Yes, take it to the nice cashier lady over there and she will hold it for us until we make our purchase.”

Isaac nodded, shuffling over to the front of the store. Erica emerged from the dressing room, back in her too big clothes.

“So how did they fit?” Laura asked.

“Ok.”

“You don’t have to agree with what she says,” Derek said. “If you want to wear something different, go ahead and choose.”

Erica bit her lip. “Can we go to the store next door then?”

Laura raised her brow. She knew that Derek had recently converted the three Betas as they still didn’t smell like pack, but she was not aware that Derek knew them so well. She hadn’t even noticed that Erica felt uncomfortable with the clothes that she had given her. How had Derek noticed? She glanced at Erica to the clothes she was carrying in her arms. Most of the clothes were pink, frilly, and overall preppy. Apparently, Erica didn’t want to dress like that. What did she want to dress like?

“Yeah, of course. Here Derek, this is my card, pay for Isaac please.”

Derek swiped the card from her, heading to the cashier.

Laura left with Erica and entered the store next door. Laura understood as soon as she saw the tight fitting pants, the dark colors amongst shades of bright neon. Erica wanted something to make her stand out. She wanted a confidence boost.

“All right, Erica grab whatever you want.” Laura encouraged.

Erica went straight for the leather skirts. Laura smiled and looked around the store. Most of it wasn’t her taste. She preferred softer colors with beads sewn into the garments, all of this was a little too much for her. Not that it was bad. However, she did find herself wandering into the jewelry aisle. She stopped when she saw Cora by the men’s jewelry.

She went over to her younger sister. She was carrying a shopping bag in one hand while she examined two men’s bracelets.

“Aren’t those too big for you?” Laura curiously asked. She had nothing against her sister dressing like a tomboy but she did want her sister wearing fitting clothes and accessories. The bracelets were beautiful though. They were thin woven leather bands with a triskelion charm holding it together. While the triskelion was obviously more modern than their family crest Laura understood why Cora wanted it.

“Yeah.” She said, caught between four colors, a black, grey,maroon, and forest green. She set the monotone colors down taking the red and green with her.

“Why not just buy the girl versions of them, I think I see them over there.”

Cora avoided her gaze. “They’re not for me.” She murmured.

“Oh for Isaac and Boyd?”

“No.” Cora cut the conversation short as she was prone to do. Just like Derek. Laura went over to Erica helping her choose between a red plaid shirt and a yellow one. They settled on the red and Erica enthusiastically headed over to the cashier where Laura paid for all of their things including Cora’s mystery bracelets.

When Laura found Derek again she caught him buying the boys leather jackets that Laura seriously had to raise an eyebrow at. “Really, Derek?”

“What?”

“Making clones, are you?”

“No.”

She laughed and was convinced into buying a leather jacket for everyone including herself.

They arrived back in the Hale House where all of them set their stuff in their rooms. Laura had promised that she would take Erica shopping into Diagon Alley for wizard robes and a few potions for her hair later in the week. When all of them went back into the living room, Laura sat on the armrest as the others sprawled against the couches.

“So, you begin training them tomorrow?” Laura asked.

“Yes.” Derek said, with an arm flung over his eyes. “You’re helping right?”

Laura nodded.

Cora darkly laughed. “Good luck you three, while Derek is going to make training feel like torture Laura is going to make it feel like torture in hell.”

“Don’t tell them that,” Laura chuckled.

The other three looked alarmed. “What exactly does training mean?” Boyd questioned.

Derek answered. “You’ll see, meet on the third floor at six in the morning.”

“Six?” Isaac and Erica whined.

“Hmmm...make that five Der-Bear.” Laura said as she scanned the three. “I can tell by looking at Erica and Boyd that they don’t have their anchors yet and Isaac is still shaky on his. They’re going to need extra help.”

Derek nodded. “Cora you’re coming too.”

“What? Why? I’m a better fighter than you.” Cora bristled.

Laura interfered. “Yes, you are better than Derek but you put no thought into your fighting style. You attack before you think, a well versed werewolf like let’s say Kali who specializes in tactical fighting will kill you in a second. So you’re training.”

“I don’t think so. I’m not waking up that early.” Cora admonished.

Laura feigned a smile. “Don’t think so young lady, as your older sister and official guardian you are training.”  

Cora rolled her eyes. She brought her legs up onto the couch. “Fine.”

 

|~~***~~|

 

Stiles fingers caressed the dry pages of the large old book he was reading in his house. He was settled in a corner of the library with his legs thrown over the headrest of the leather chair while his head rested against the leg. The increase blood flow to his brain was making him dizzy and speckles of red to dance across his vision but it also helped him focus. Since the summer began, he had spent it in the Stilinski library.

The library was vast with several tomes of reading that were in no matter light. Several of them were of dark nature which was on the second floor of the library-completely forbidden to Stiles with the age spells his dad had placed. The first floor though still had a wide array of books that Stiles was using as one giant index. He knew that he would find nothing about Moonwalkers, Pandia, or Rhea Silvia but he hoped he would find a mention of them that would lead him to another book that perhaps Deaton could get him.

The book he was currently reading, were collections of Homeric Hymns. The book was boring but he was reading it for the annotations several wizards had made as editors of the book. Still, it was not very helpful. Most of the information was from the book that he had borrowed from his Ancient Runes Professor and even that book was limited.

Stiles was growing frustrated knowing exactly what he was but knowing nothing of it all. He twisted his body until he was sitting upright and closed the book. He threw the book behind himself, knowing that the book would place itself back on the shelf it came from. Standing up, Stiles stretched and yawned. When he looked at his Batman watch, he saw that it was several hours past sanity. Gathering his wits, Stiles left the library. He passed through his father’s study out of habit, mostly since his dad was ever home to scold him for doing so.

So when Stiles saw his dad by his desk, furiously dipping his quill into an ink goblet and dashing it quickly over parchment, Stiles was surprised.

“Hey dad, I didn’t even know you were home.”

“Yeah got it in about two hours ago.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. Stiles tried to ignore the bottle of firewhiskey sitting on his father’s desk that was nearly empty. He had been drinking a lot more since the Deucalion case came about.

“Maybe you should head to bed. Don’t you have work early tomorrow.”

“Can’t. Writing reports on the Deucalion case.”

“Why not let Auror Whittemore handle it?”

“It’s a mutual report. He already did his half and I need to send in mine by tomorrow morning.”

“Oh.” Stiles leaned against the door frame. “When do you have a day off?”

“Not anytime soon. Why?”

“No reason.” Stiles let his eyes fall on the wall and realized there was new information spello-taped on it. He made a mental note to come in here and make copies of them. Truthfully, he wanted to spend time with his dad during the summer but that was not going to happen with the amount of stress his father was under. He hoped that when he and the others stopped Deucalion, his father would have time for him.

“Do you need any help?”

John finally looked up. “Stiles, this is all confidential information.”

“No one has to know.”

John raised a brow.

Stiles chuckled. “It was a worth a shot.” John was failing to hide his amusement at his son, so Stiles saved him the trouble. “All right then I’m heading to bed. You should too.”

“What? It’s only eleven.”

“Dad, it’s three a.m.”

“Three—shit. Wait, why aren’t you asleep?”

Stiles shrugged. “It’s summer.”

His father took that as answer enough. He placed a few papers away and then both headed to the third floor to their respective rooms.

 

|~~***~~|

 

The sun breathed through the clouds shining upon the manor that was settled in a valley surrounded by hills. Hidden by non-magic seeing eyes the manor was tall, built by light colored bricks and surrounded by tall arched fanned windows. It was regal and stood proud for the small three member family. Currently, two of its members were in their limitless backyard. It was a beautiful trimmed yard, with trees designing the border of their manor’s wards.

A five year old Stiles and his mother were sitting by the fountain in the middle of their yard examining a small daisy that had grown in the middle of the yard.

His mother urged him to lie on their stomachs to remain eye level with the small daisy. Claudia tilted her head to the side examining the daisy with contemplation. She swiped her hand through her thick brown curled hair that fell around her back and on the grass. Tying her hair back seemed like the most logical choice as her hair was always in her face, it would certainly highlight the dozens of moles on her face that Stiles liked to touch with his chubby fingers. But, his mother’s hair was wild just like her personality and shouldn’t ever be contained.

She wore a blue jay colored chiffon dress that pooled around her bare grass stained feet. The dress was loose around her slim frame so his mother had tied a belt covered in oddly shaped white lace agate gemstones and a blue phoenix in the center. There were several bands across her wrists that were charmed to show illustrations of merpeople swimming or hippogriffs flying. Stiles loved wearing his mother’s jewelry, especially the ones that had dragons, they were always warm against his skin.

Claudia had her wand out and was twirling it between her fingers with practiced ease. “How about some fun?”

Stiles nodded furiously. His mother’s idea of fun always had tons of giggles and rolling around the floor. She tapped her wand against the daisy. Stiles hands drummed the grass with anticipation. He gasped when the daisy transformed into a small white bunny. Immediately, Stiles went to pick it up. With  his usual bout of flailing limbs he brought the bunny to his face. The bunny twitched his nose against Stiles’ and Stiles laughed.

“He smells like daisies. We should call him Daisy.”

“Daisy is a beautiful name,” Claudia agreed, sitting on her knees. The front of her dress had several grass stains but she didn’t seem to care as she scratched the bunny in the back of his ears.

“Can we keep him?” Stiles asked.

“I’m sorry honey, but the magic will wear off then he’ll turn back into a daisy.”

“Oh...but until then can I keep him.”

“Of course.”

“Cool! Let’s show dad!”

Stiles ran inside the house, shaking the bunny. Claudia eyes opened in shock. She grabbed a fistful of her dress to run after her son to make sure he didn’t harm the bunny in the process.

“Stiles, be careful don’t hurt him.” She called, as she saw her son run into his father’s study.

Claudia sighed softly as she sat on her husband’s desk. She kicked her feet back and forth watching her son sit in John’s lap with the bunny in tow. “Look dad, meet my bunny! His name is Daisy!” A younger version of his father, one that hadn’t been touched by aging stress lines from the death of his mother, passed a look to Claudia. Claudia told him silently not to say a word to their son’s naming choice.

“Daisy is adorable. We have some carrots in the kitchen go feed him some.”

“Ok!” Stiles jumped off his father, kicking him accidentally in the shin. Stiles was too ecstatic to apologize as he ran to kitchen pantry. He set the bunny on the ground as gently as he could. He took a small moment to make sure the bunny was not going anywhere before he proceeded to jump to reach the top shelf. After a few attempts, he finally managed to grab the carrot bag. He pulled it but then the bag fell onto the floor, ripping the bag open. Stiles chased after all the carrots putting them back in the bag and setting them on a closer reaching shelf. He picked up the bunny again and began feeding Daisy.

Walking carefully back to his father’s study, Stiles stopped when he looked outside the window. The sky was black and rain was pattering hard against the window. That was weird. It was sunny just a minute ago. Stiles jumped a foot in the air when the main door was slammed open. He dropped Daisy, but Daisy wasn’t there. The scene had changed entirely as soon as a wet cloaked figure stood at the entrance. Lightning rang and lighted the dark manor. Stiles saw the shadows of the cloaked figure at the end of the long hallway.

“Mom!” Stiles shouted, running toward her.

He stopped a foot away from her, craning his neck to look at her. Claudia’s long hair was soaked and covered in mud. It stuck to the sides of her face against her unusually pale skin. She was breathing heavily through her chapped lips. “Mom?”

The door closed behind her as she leaned against it. She was clutching her left arm with pain and when Stiles looked at her arm it was dripping blood onto their floor. “Mom!” Stiles shouted as she slumped to the floor. She began to convulse and her voice was lodged in her throat. Stiles began to panic and realized he was shaking just as badly as his mother. He didn’t understand what was happening. He barely registered his father coming into view and shouting his mother’s name.

Without any prompting, John picked up Claudia. “Stiles! Floo the Healers, now!”

Through heavy breathed pants, Stiles found some semblance of control in his body to nod and rushed to his father’s study—the nearest fireplace. He barely remembered the conversation but almost immediately a Healer appeared in the fireplace and Stiles ran to his parents room to show the Healer his mother.

Stiles didn’t know how much time passed but when he opened the door, he saw his mother lying in bed with a book propped up on her stomach. Her hair was nappy and sprawled over the white beddings. Her skin had an unnatural tinge to it and her skin was burning hot.

A seven year old Stiles walked to the bed and laid down with her. His mother smiled softly at him and began carding her hands through his hair and kissing the top of his head. Stiles rested his head on her shoulder to peer at the book. His mother spent most of her time reading that book and writing in it with a self inking quill. Except the ink never showed on the book. At first. they thought the quill didn’t work, but Claudia insisted it worked perfectly fine.

So the next thing they questioned was the book.

They tried to examine it but Claudia wouldn’t let them. After a while, his father stopped trying to pry the book from Claudia’s hands. She wouldn’t let it go. She always said it had life-changing information in there but from what Stiles saw, nobody was able to see the writing but her.

They had tried to have her read aloud from the book to see what she was reading, but she refused each time. It was a hopeless cause. She didn’t want to read either. Instead, Stiles relished in the small time he had with his mother and cuddled beside her until he fell asleep.

When Stiles awoke, he was alarmed. His mother was missing. He called out for her and heard a clang come from the bathroom. He rushed to the bathroom and saw his mother having a magical outburst. Everything in the bathroom was flying around and crashing against the wall. He realized the mirror was shattered and the pieces were swirling around his mother.

A nine nearly ten year old Stiles approached his mother. And then everything stopped.

“It burns, it burns!” Claudia screeched. She scratched at her tender skin, leaving red welts across her arms and chest. “Make it stop. Please stop!” And then it did. Everything floating around dropped simultaneously, littering the floor in several liquids and shards of glass. And then Stiles looked to his motionless mother. Blood poured from her nose and ears and then she collapsed on the ground.

Stiles yelled. His scream echoing in the bathroom walls. He was too terrified to approach so he stood there at the doorway of the bathroom watching blood trail slowly out of his mother. It wasn’t stopping.

Stiles found himself convulsing on the floor unable to breathe. He felt like he was dying. His mother couldn’t be dead. No! The Healers had said she would die, but not like this! Please, no!

Stiles froze when a gentle hand touched his shoulder. At first, he thought the touch belonged to his mother and he was filled with ecstatic joy that his mother only had an attack, but then when Stiles looked up he saw a woman who he had only seen before once but could not place at the moment. Her ethereal white hair framed her dark olive skin that brought attention to her smoking red eyes. Stiles gave her a pained confused look. Who was she?

The woman shushed him, silently.

She walked over to Claudia, kneeling to run her hands through Claudia’s hair. Claudia’s body magically looked cleaner and from one moment to the next her body was gone.

The white haired woman approached Stiles again and the scene around them changed. Stiles didn’t know where he was but when the woman pointed behind him, Stiles was hesitant to turn around.

There was a teenage girl, that at first Stiles thought was Cora. But her frame was too long and her hair was darker and her skin much paler. He didn’t recognize her at all. But he did notice that there was no life behind her eyes as an arrow was lodged between her eyes. Beside her, Stiles froze at the sight. Scott was there dead as much as the girl with an arrow lodged in his throat.

Stiles didn’t understand, but he felt his body begin to enter his usual panic state as he turned his head to the left. He saw his own body but he looked different, if the longer hair was anything to go by. His double was shaking and then his double opened his mouth to let out a whimper as an arrow lodged in his forehead. Stiles shook as his double fell into his arms.

Stiles didn’t know what else to do but scream—scream as loud as he could.

He was jolted out of bed covered in heavy sweat and two arms wrapped around him.

“Stiles...shh..calm down...it was just a nightmare...just a nightmare.” His father whispered, caressing the side of his sweaty face. Stiles grasped onto his father’s arm like a tether still trying to regain consciousness and accept that he was awake. He knew he was shaking and that his breaths were coming in short huffs through his nose, but he couldn’t stop it.

When he finally registered everything had been a dream, Stiles slumped against his father. John calmed down as well and was now holding his son in his arms tightly and stroking along his arms in soothing manner.

Stiles thought he was done with all the night terrors on his mother’s death. He had lived through them up until his second year of Hogwarts, but this recurrence was different from the others. While he always played back the death scene of his mother,  he had never dreamed of his own death. It was strange.

“You ok?” John asked.

Stiles nodded weakly.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

John nodded, getting more comfortable on the bed.

Without a word, John knew immediately what his son had dreamt about. Stiles wouldn’t have reacted so strongly if it was anything else.

Stiles let everything relax and looked out his window. The sun was just above the horizon and was making the sky a blinding pale orange that was beginning to hurt Stiles’ eyes. He shut them to let his eyes adjust back to normal before turning to his room. He climbed out of bed, giving his father a feigned winning smile. “How bout some breakfast?”

Stiles was grateful for his father, especially when he didn’t push anything. “Bacon?”

“No! I told you, you need to eat healthier! I’ll make some oatmeal and cut a few fruits.”

John made a retching noise.

“How about that and some bacon?”

“No, and you better not have been eating that all throughout my stay at Hogwarts.”

“Well...I might have a had a slip or two.”

“Dad!”

“Don’t worry. Melissa has been keeping a close eye on me.” John assured.

Stiles nodded, heading to the bathroom before he got ready to make breakfast.

His dad and him ate the oatmeal and the slices and bacon in relative comfort. Stiles talked about his year at Hogwarts leaving crucial information out of the information involving certain werewolves. He did though go to great lengths complaining about the Slytherin dorm in which Jackson left globs of his hair product everywhere and how Aiden left his dirty socks everywhere and when he said everywhere he meant everywhere. A few weeks before the term had ended Danny had found Aiden’s socks lodged into the shower heads and the only reason he had figured that one out was when he turned on the water it smelled like dirty socks. How they got there, nobody really knew, other than it was the most disgusting thing any of them had ever seen.

When Stiles animatedly gave a non-filtered report on his term, Stiles turned to his dad. “How’s work?”

John shrugged. “It’s getting stressful with the entire werewolf case.”

“Have you found any new information—What?—I’m just asking.”

“Again, it’s confidential information, Stiles.”

“I know. I know. Worth a shot.” Stiles grinned. “Hey so Scott and I were planning on visiting Cora during the summer at her home. Is that cool with you?”

“Cora?”

“Yes, dad. I told you about her like years ago. Cora—the mean Gryffindor.”

“Oh now I remember. Where does she live?”

“Like half an hour from where Scott lives. He wanted to take me on muggle public transportation.”

“Sure, as long as you remember no talking about magic in front of the muggles.”

“That was one time!.”

“When are you going?” His father ignored.

“Not really sure. We were thinking of dropping in unannounced.”

“That’s not very polite. What would her parents think?”

“Dad. Were you listening? I said Cora Hale as in the Hales.”

Realization dawned on John’s face. “Oh well I’m glad you became friends with her.”

“Yeah, so we’re gonna go to her place, she already said it was ok.”

“Well as long as you asked.” John ate his last piece of bacon, that he had convinced his son to make him, and from his robes pulled his wand out to check the time. “Alright, I’m gonna head to work. I’ll leave the floo open so Scott can come over.”

“Scott probably won’t be here until another two or three weeks. He has muggle family over and he has to entertain them.”

“Ok. We’ll I’ll still leave it open just in case.”

Stiles nodded and watched his dad head downstairs to use the fireplace. Stiles busied himself by washing the dishes the muggle way and cleaned the kitchen. Not knowing what else to do, Stiles headed to his room to grab his broom and a Quaffle to play some Quidditch in the backyard.

Stiles mounted his broom, practicing the general drills that their Slytherin Captain taught the Chasers. It was a series of dives, flips, and maneuvers to warm up before one involved the ball. Stiles flew swiftly to the ground to grab the Quaffle on the ground. He grasped it and threw it as hard as he could across his backyard. He went dashing for it before it touched the ground. He did this for a good fifteen minutes until Stiles felt that he was working up a sweat. He began throwing the Quaffle faster and harder, pushing his limits on how fast he could catch it. It was starting to get more difficult as Stiles found himself nearly colliding with the floor or a tree around his backyard. There was one point where he almost fell in the fountain.

He wiped the sweat off his brow and threw the Quaffle again. However, this time he made a miscalculation with his strength as he threw it to the manor. Stiles cringed when he heard the unmistakable sound of glass shattering. He flew slowly toward the manor and saw that the top window at the attic was broken. He could see the window magically restoring itself, but it didn’t mean that the attic hadn’t suffered some damage.

He dismounted his broom to head inside the manor, running up the stairs. He looked around the attic, looking for the Quaffle and saw it next to a small statue that had its entire left side broken off. Oh his dad was going to kill him. He looked around the attic and found some dusty curtains. He threw them over the statue and grabbed several boxes to hide it from view. Stiles stepped back and admired his work. No one would be the wiser.

He took several steps back and unceremoniously tripped over other boxes in the room. Grunting when a few toppled over him, Stiles stood up on shaky legs.

When he turned to see what he had dropped. Stiles paused and didn’t let himself linger. He began collecting his mother’s belongings and putting them back in the large box. It didn’t feel like last year where he wanted to break down, but rather he just felt empty. He didn’t know which one he preferred.

He stopped when he saw he had picked up a rather large tome. He looked around the book and despite its ancient leather binding, Stiles could feel the book vibrating with magic. He opened without any precaution and rifled through the pages. It was all empty.

And then Stiles froze.

He remembered this was the same book the pendant had fallen from and more importantly, this was the exact book his mother obsessed over before the final moments of her death.

Don’t walk on the moon, Stiles!

He heard his mother repeating. Was this a book on Moonwalkers? He again rifled through the pages, but nothing. He knew his mother wasn’t insane so how had she seen the book. He began walking with the book in hand as he headed to his room.

He sat down on his bed and turned every single page. What was this?

He closed the book and examined the binding more carefully. With this lighting he could see faded marks. He couldn’t make them out at all other than he knew they were written with the Greek Alphabet. He grabbed the book and put it under his bed, deciding that he would show it to Deaton when he returned to Hogwarts.

 

|~~***~~|

 

“A night of cold air and unseeing eyes  
The King of Arcadia shall rise  
The Father of Wolves carrying vengeance so unconstrained  
A master waiting to take the flame  
Unfulfilling power of will  
Has the spirit wandering in the between still”

A woman read aloud the passage. “How do you understand any of this?”

“It’s simple really,” Deucalion answered, swiping the paper from Kali. He went to the couch Ennis was sitting on and sat elegantly on the worn cushion.

The three Alpha werewolves congregated in a small wizard house. The owner of the house very rarely used their living quarters and in the meantime the three used the house to hide out from the Aurors. The house greatly contrasted from the Alpha’s personalities. The house was brightly lit by the large round windows bringing in the morning sun. The house was made for comfort. Beautiful and simple furniture in colors that didn’t match but made the home feel well lived in.

“What if you translated it wrong?” Ennis spoke up from the opposite couch. He was drinking some firewhiskey.

“It’s not wrong.” Deucalion stated. “It’s all perfect. The potion is already being made by a Potions Master..”

Kali stood up, her bare feet clinking against the wooden floor. She took the paper again and sat on the recliner chair. She read the rest of the passage.

The death of his sons remade  
Along with the blood of the ones he swayed  
Dropped on the marks drawn of his temple  
On crowded trees so dense and so gentle  
Blood of that who slain  
And screaming blood in veins

Drinking of taint and purity  
blood of sons immaturity  
Seeds plucked of Eris’ discord  
With wood nymphs that whispered  
Eyes of eight  
and claws that see the fate  
A teeth of a woman who runs   
And bones of a death that comes  
Meadows in the Elysian Fields  
Along with feathers that shield  
Burning bushes and sap of dust  
Now, let’s place our king on the one we trust

“It sounds like rubbish.” Kali stated.

Deucalion rolled his eyes. “It took me years to find that document. It’s not rubbish. They are clear directions of how to rise Lycaon.”

“Don’t seem very clear to me. And sorry, but frankly I don’t trust the translation from a blind man.”

Deucalion snarled.

Ennis chuckled and downed the rest of his firewhiskey. “We need to really start collecting more sacrifices. We need thirteen more.”

“Attack a wizard village?” Kali suggested.

Deucalion smiled. “I am in the mood. Ennis it’s your turn to choose a village.”

Ennis smirked. With powerful confidence he walked to the study to choose a village and get more firewhiskey.

“How are the new werewolves?” Deucalion asked Kali after a moment.

Kali shrugged. “Doing fairy well. Ennis and I have them residing in an abandoned boarding home in Wales. I’m actually shocked on how well they are listening. We didn’t have to threaten them or anything.”

“They want to die that’s why. Everyone’s who's survived the bite doesn’t want to be a werewolf.”

“That’s good for us...but you don’t seem happy about that.”

Deucalion sighed. “Don’t you have the slightest guilt? Some of those werewolves are ones you sired, killing them feels like killing a pack.”

“My pack died years ago. They aren’t my pack. And what’s wrong with you? You’re the one who brought Ennis and I into this plan of yours to rise Lycaon. It’s our revenge against the wizards who imprisoned us and killed our pack. Don’t tell me you're getting soft.”  

Deucalion released an amused huff. “Perhaps I am, but then I recall that I can’t see a bloody well thing. I just don’t understand how the wizards we’ve turned have come to hate us. They see me and see what the hunters did to me. We are not the threat.”

“No, but we are something they fear and nobody wants to become the monster they were told to hide from.” Kali spoke, looking out the window.

“True.” Deucalion was quiet for a long moment. “I have never bitten anyone before this.” He confessed.

Kali gave him a curious brow. “Really?”

He hummed, wishing that alcohol worked, he needed it to have this conversation. “My pack was all family. Family we had preserved for millenniums.”

Kali smiled softly. “Must have been nice having that connection to your ancestry. My pack consisted of thieves trying to survive in the poor streets of India.”

“You turned your entire pack?”

“Just a handful. The majority came from another pack where I had killed the Alpha abusing them.”

“Killing an Alpha is difficult.”

“I had help from a friend.” Kali said quickly.

Deucalion understood. “It doesn’t matter where your pack comes from. They are still pack.”

“That they are. Is that why you don’t want to kill our sacrifices?” Kali questioned.

“A bit. But they want to be killed.”

Kali gave a bitter laugh. “I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t want to die if they knew what their sacrifice was going to bring.”  

“They sure wouldn’t.” Deucalion stood to his feet.

“Where are you going?”

“A few potion ingredients are still missing, ‘With wood nymphs that whispered’ I need the wings of forest fairy.”

“Do you need help in getting them?” Kali asked.

“No.” Deucalion directed quickly.

Kali snickered. “Oh, I see.”

Deucalion rolled his eyes. “I’ll come back in a few weeks. Ennis should have chosen a village by then. Please, don’t cause any trouble.” Deucalion stated.

Kali huffed. “Whatever.”

Deucalion apparated from the home and into the Forest of Dean. The forest had been his home. A place where his pack had lived for centuries. It was so quiet now. He walked around the forest for a few until he hit the river.The smell of fresh water and fish hitting his senses. He glanced down, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to see his own reflection on the clear water, but he was fine with that. He didn’t want to see what he had become. He heard a crack come from the other side of the river.

“Are you here to help me find a fairy?” Deucalion asked the figure.

The figure was silent.

The figure could see him for what he really was. And in short, he was so afraid of that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wan't to make it clear that Deucalion in my story is not a villian. He is an anti-hero and I hope this makes it clear.  
> Props to anyone who can guess what all the potion ingredients are. 
> 
> Also my headcannon for Claudia Stilinski is this [(X)](http://twinklingpaopufruit.tumblr.com/post/90704074903/claudia-stilinski-featured-in-moonwalkers-x). Her age in the pictures is the age I picture her when Stiles is about four. I honestly think Lindsey Shaw looks so much like Dylan O'brien its creepy. 
> 
> [My Tumblr](http://twinklingpaopufruit.tumblr.com/)


	18. Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek trains the Betas while Laura trains Derek.

It had been a few weeks and Derek was utterly exasperated with his Betas. After important breathing exercises, practicing on centering oneself, and basic hand to hand combat moves, he swore his Betas were worse off from when they had started.

Derek sighed as Isaac made another predictable move by trying to come in from Derek’s blind spot. Without effort, Derek lifted his arm and shoved Isaac to the floor. He heard a crack at the impact and most likely than not, Derek had broken another of Isaac's ribs.

Boyd came next and instead of speed used brute strength. Boyd managed to unsteady his balance, but all it took was Derek to call only a fraction of his wolf side. He grabbed Boyd and shoved him to the opposite wall.

Derek turned to Laura. The early morning glow illuminated behind her as she sat by the window that lead to the small balcony. Cora was snuggled into Laura’s lap, sleeping soundly, at least Derek thought she was. Laura though was watching Derek carefully. Derek sensed the judgment in her eyes as Isaac and Boyd groaned on the floor. It was then he realized that Erica was missing from their group. That was weird—she had been here nearly a minute ago.

Derek grunted as a warm heavy weight pushed him to the ground and a pair of claws were pinching the back of his throat. Derek heard Laura laugh and Cora grumbling awake.

"What was it that you just said five minutes ago, Derek? Never leave your back to an open door?" Erica grinned above him.

Derek rolled his eyes, twisting one arm to grab at her thigh. He shifted their weight easily and pushed her to the ground. She groaned in dissatisfaction but mirth pulled at her lips and shone in her eyes.

"Do I win?"

"No. That was a lucky hit. Again!"

All three Betas whined.

“Not that breaking every bone in my body is fun, but can we take a break?” Isaac grumbled, as he prodded at his ribs.  

“No.”

“No, he’s right. Let’s give them a break.” Laura announced, standing to her feet. She pulled off her Gryffindor Alumni sweater over head until she was standing in a black tank top and leggings. She leaned down to pull a rubber band from Cora’s wrist to tie her own hair. “I want to show them a real fight.”

Red flags went up in Derek’s mind. Laura was the best fighter amongst the Hale siblings and she had proven she was strong when she was able to go head to head with their mother. He kind of wanted to back out but that wouldn’t be setting a good example.

“Fine.”

“Let’s state some stakes.” Laura grinned.

“What? No.”

“Scared, Der-Bear?”

“No.”

“Then?”

Derek sighed. “What do you want?”

Laura grinned mischievously. “If you win you get the Camaro regardless of your OWL grades but if I win, you give me a good five days to train you alone and Cora trains the three kiddos in basic werewolf stuff.”  

“What kind of stakes are those?”

Isaac crawled next to Cora and sprawled his long limbs. “I don’t think I appreciate being used as a bargaining chip.”

Laura and Derek ignored him. “My type of stakes. Now agreed? First one to cave loses?”

“Agreed.”  

Both of them called upon their wolf side, red and yellow eyes emerging.

Both of them went into action immediately. They threw punches and each of them dodged until Laura grabbed both of Derek’s fists. She placed one of his arms over the other and twisted them. With her strength, she flipped him over throwing him into the corner of the wall. Derek fell onto his back and brought his arms over his head to block Laura’s punches.

He heard a growl behind them and sensed Erica get up. Her instincts to protect her Alpha kicked in and she went scrambling over to help. Laura without looking back elbowed Erica in the face, successfully breaking her jaw and kicked backwards. Her heel made contact with Erica’s knee, shattering the bone. Erica yelped and Boyd rushed forward to take her out of the fray.

Due to Erica’s distraction, Derek centered his strength and kicked Laura in the gut using both his legs. Laura fell to the ground and rolled backwards to get back on her feet at the same time Derek did.

Again the two delivered blows. Derek hit Laura in the face breaking her nose and Laura growled, releasing more of her strength. She grabbed the back of Derek’s shirt collar and dragged him toward the balcony. The window shattered and Derek yelped when glass embedded in his skin, preventing the healing process.

Derek regained his senses enough to block Laura’s punches. It was sheer luck that he managed to grab Laura’s right wrist and twist it until the bone cracked. Laura let out a small whimper and flipped left, the awkward angle made Derek release her. In mid air, Derek pushed her and as she hit the ground on her side, she swiped her leg and Derek fell to the ground with her.

Laura crawled on top of him. Her claws extended and she aimed straight for his throat. Derek dodged to the left and Laura tried again. Derek grabbed one of her arms stopping the claws inches from his throat. He sat up and dug his own claws into her foot and this time she let out a long howl.

Derek pushed himself up and grabbed her slamming her into the wall. Laura reacted quickly though and kneed him in the gut. Derek felt the air let out of him and in his attempt to regain his breath, Laura successfully pinned him to the ground twisting one arm behind him and digging her claws dangerously in the back of his neck.

“I give,” Derek hissed and felt the claws release. Laura climbed off of him and Derek sat up. His Betas were eyeing Laura warily as she stood up and was popping her bones back into place.

“We’re going to die.” Boyd said monotone.

“What?” Derek asked, hissing as he pulled chips of glass one by one out of his face and shoulders.

“If Laura can’t beat Deucalion and you can’t beat Laura and we can’t beat you. Then we’re fucked.” Boyd said, putting all the pieces together easily.

“Exactly.” Laura said and went over to retrieve her wand. She pointed it to the window. “ _Reparo_.” The glass retreated to the window and Derek yipped as a few pieces of glass ripped out of his skin. “But that’s not your fault. Ok, since I won, everyone out. Derek I expect you here at two in the morning.”

“What?!” Derek hollered incredulous.

“I won. So Cora has full reign on the Betas. You’re not allowed to train them until I give you the ok. Understood?”

“I’m the Alpha.” Derek said, standing up.

Laura glared at him. “I’m older and we agreed on the stakes. Now get out.”

Derek glared back and in a huff stormed out of the room. Cora  and the others went down the stairs as well, much more subdued. They descended two flights of stairs until they reached the kitchen. Derek grabbed a water bottle and began to drink.

Cora and Isaac reached over to get some overly obnoxious sugary cereal and milk. Erica went straight for the toast and marmalade while Boyd went for the protein shakes that Laura had bought. When Cora was satisfied with mixing her Captain Crunch and Fruity Pebbles, she looked to her brother.

“What?” Derek bit.

“You know she did that to not hurt your Alpha ego right?”

“What are you talking about?”

Cora munched on her cereal for a moment. “You suck at training them.”

The Betas wisely remained quiet and tried to remain very still.

“I do not.” Derek hated how he sounded petulant.

“You do. Erica and Boyd haven’t even found their anchors yet.”

“That’s on them.” Derek didn’t mean to pin the blame on them when they were literally three feet away, but he was right. Werewolves were meant to find their anchors on their own. Isaac did.

“No. I was young but I remember when Omegas would come they would ask mom for help to control themselves. You’re supposed to do that. Isaac is an anomaly for getting his anchor alone.”

Isaac grinned at her, pleased that he was special.

“And just saying you are dealing with Hufflepuffs. They want to know they are doing a good job.”

Erica let the marmalade knife thunk on the island counter. She turned to Cora with a grimace. “I refuse to be pigeonholed according to characteristics from when I was eleven. I’m not the same person.”

Both Hales ignored her.

“Did Laura tell you this?” Derek sighed.

“Most of it. The suck at training them are my exact words, if you have to know.”

“You’re impossible.”

“I’m amazing. You’re an idiot.”

Derek glared at her and set his water bottle on the table. He picked at Cora’s cereal bowl and grabbed a few pieces of cereal.

“Hey!” Cora shouted. “That’s disgusting.”

“You eat all my chocolate. It’s only fair.” Derek said wiping his milk covered fingers on his sweat pants. “So did Laura tell you what she was going to do?”

“She said your training was going to put hell to shame. Whatever that means. She didn’t want to tell me the rest, said something about not being old enough. Which I call bullshit because mom and her used to disappear into the woods all time when she was fourteen.”

Cora was right. He remembered as well Laura and his mother turning to the woods and returning in the early morning hours. He knew their mother would pass on werewolf stuff to Laura, but he didn’t know what it was. Did that mean Laura was going to pass it down to him?

“Stop thinking.” Cora announced. “I hate to watch you pop brain cells.”

Derek wrinkled his nose at her and grabbed her bowl finishing all the milk.

“Derek!” Cora groaned.

He smiled in his sister’s direction as he left the kitchen heading up the stairs.

“Where are you going? Laura will kick your ass if she sees you.”

“To my room.” He said obviously.

Cora rolled her eyes and turned to the Betas where they all began animatedly talking as soon as Derek left.

Derek returned to the training room at two in the morning just as Laura had instructed. Entering the dim room, he spotted Laura multitasking. With her wand, she lighted several floating candles, transfigured curtains on the balcony and the ceiling windows, making the room dark. He shut the door behind him as Laura moved on to using her wand to guide a paintbrush. With black paint, she guided the brush to draw their family crest, the triskelion, on the wooden floor.

“What are you doing?” Derek questioned, breaking the silence.

Laura made a humming noise. She threw the paintbrush into the bucket at the corner of the room.

“Your test,” She answered. “Sit on the insignia.”

“It’s wet.”

“Then dry it,” She mocked as she tied her hair into a ponytail.

Derek pulled out his wand, casting a spell to dry the paint. He sat down at the same time Laura did.

Laura put on her serious face so Derek listened intently as she began to speak. “You were young when our mom died so she never got the chance to explain to you everything about werewolves or Alpha duties or what you would have to do to become an Alpha. But because mom died the Alpha spark in our family was transferred to me and complicated a lot of stuff. The power went into me as a default, as the Alpha power does in any pack, it goes to the oldest of the Alpha’s offspring. But Peter took it from me and then you took it from Peter. Which wasn’t how things were supposed to go at all.”

“What do you mean?”

“As tradition within our Hale pack, the Alpha’s offspring, when the youngest turns seventeen we must perform a test to see who will become the next Alpha, so when our mom was going to die she would know who to give the power to. Neither of us took the test to see who will become the next Alpha and I don’t expect us to now because that would mean if Cora or I scored better than you we would have to perform the transferring spell and I don’t want to put you in that weak state. But I want you to still take the test and prove to me you have what it takes to lead us.”

“If I don’t pass?” Derek questioned.

“Then we are going to send those three kids to a more competent Alpha and you won’t get involved with Deucalion. You will let me and the others handle it. Ok?”

Derek didn’t want to comply but the conditions were fair. So he agreed.

Laura continued. “Ok, this test is meant to be done by our emissary but Deaton is AWOL at the moment and Morrell is busy so I’ll do it. The test requires you to demonstrate our pack’s valued trait. Every pack has one. Simone’s pack valued knowledge to have their pack survive the unknown. Deucalion’s pack valued strength to protect the pack. And our family valued stability to keep our pack stable throughout the unavoidable changes and hardships in life. That’s why our pack insignia is a triskelion. It’s more than to represent how easy it is to fall or rise into werewolf status. It represents action, progress, revolution, and moving forward. That’s why an Alpha must keep a pack stable through all of those changes. And the way we test that stability is to see how you handle change in your life.”

Laura twirled her wand between her fingers, locking eyes with Derek. “I will be entering your mind through Legilimens and bring forth the four most painful memory you have. Painful memories change a person the most. When I bring them forth your job is to stabilize those memories. I know you will have done it successfully when we enter a new memory. The test will be complete when you complete the last one and you will have failed if you get trapped in one and I have to drag you out. Got that?”

“I think so.”

“Good.” Laura dropped her serious face and chuckled apologetically. “I have to tell you my Legilimens sucks so when I enter your brain its going to be a bit shaky.”

“Great,” Derek deadpanned. “Just what I needed to wake up.”

Laura grinned. “I’ll start off easy. K. I wish you the best of luck.” Derek watched as Laura pointed her wand at him. “ _Legilimens!_ ”

The room swam in front of his eyes and vanished. Image after image raced through his mind like strobe lights that it blinded him. His mind wanted to force his sister out but they weren’t here for that.

_Screaming in joy when he got a model dragon...getting stuck in a chimney...singing Happy Birthday to a five year old Cora...Crying when his older cousin, Daryl hit him...running from mobile snowmen._

Derek wanted the flashes to stop and Laura must have gotten control of the spell because suddenly he was stuck in a single memory.

It wasn’t that long ago, he realized. He saw his self arguing with Stiles by the Quidditch pitch in mid November. The memory wasn’t painful per say but what the memory brought were mentally agonizing thoughts.

He stepped closer to the memory. It was weird to be outside of it and watch his face grow more enraged by the second.

His sister said to stabilize the memory but he didn’t know what that meant.

He continued watching the scene, Stiles growing more red, his eye twitching, and Derek’s eyes flashing yellow. Stiles’ eyes were shaking and watering, something Derek had not noticed at the time. So what was he supposed to do with this new information?

He looked at himself, he was in as much the same predicament as Stiles. They were both in pain. He took a step back? Why were they in pain? Hurtful words sprout more hurtful words, rang in his head. That wasn’t the way to deal with pain or other people. Derek furrowed his brows. He should have just gotten over his issues and explained carefully why he couldn’t help instead of shouting and closing himself off. A lot of problems could have been avoided that way if he hadn’t been so stubborn.

And then the memories flashed again.

_Running in the forest with his family…Letting his cousin Anna dye his hair...Receiving his prefect badge...A first year Scott and Stiles falling at his feet..._

Derek didn’t understand what he had done to stabilize the memory. He just hoped he could do it again. He landed in another memory.

He saw his first year self hiding in a random secluded corner of the castle. He remembered this very clearly. It had been the first week back to Hogwarts and it had been too much for Derek. He remembered being frustrated with everything and wanting to be left alone.

He sat down beside his first year self. First year Derek was sniffling and wiping his snot on his robes. Derek made a face. First year was difficult, he recalled. He thought it would be better than pretending to Morrell that he was getting better, but it was worse and he should have taken her therapy more seriously. Laura tried to help but she was always holed up in the library studying for NEWTs. He remembered it was this year when he had pushed people away the most and became the distant person he was today.

He shouldn’t have done that. Deaton was there always offering guidance and so was Morrell. There were a lot of people willing to help even his roommates who tried to befriend him. He shouldn’t have pushed people away. Everyone needed help. He needed to stop being so afraid and begin to trust again...

Memories flashed again.

_Playing with Peter’s kids...Swinging on makeshift tire-swing with his cousin William...Pinning an annoying Slytherin to a bookshelf in a library...A ten-year old Laura clawing up his face by accident..._

As he traveled through them, Derek finally understood what stabilize meant. He had to acknowledge what he did wrong or what he should have done instead.

He landed on the third memory.

He watched himself struggling as a fourteen year old Kate Argent began to restrain him to a tree. Derek gasped at the sight. No not this.

“Oh you’re so easy to fool, Derek.” Kate laughed when she tied the chains around his body. “And now you’re family is going to die.”

“Let me go.”

“But then I can’t kill your family. They deserve to die you know.”

“No they don’t.”

“They do. They’re abominations, Derek, but an eleven year old wouldn’t be able to see that. Thank you though because of you, you’re family will die. And then my ination as a hunter will be complete. I will be the most famous hunter there was, taking down the Hale pack.”

Derek watched as his eleven year old self sobbed and thrashed against the chains. Kate neared him. “But just to be clear, I didn’t achieve this on my own. I can’t take all the credit. Remember that? You were the one who gave me your family and all it took was a few kisses and declaration of love.”

Derek turned away. He felt the memory shake and heave. He was getting trapped in it. But no, he had to stabilize it. But how? When Kate was right? He hadn’t physically killed his parents but he had led the killer inside which was pretty much the same. Derek felt his mind rattle once more.

“Thank you, Derek. And I’ll show my thanks by keeping you alive.” Kate snickered.

Derek saw his sister’s wolf form materialize beside him. She was going to pull him out. No. Think. What could he have done differently? Not talk to Kate was at the top, but he didn’t mean to. He was so vulnerable and young when he met her. And he was devastated after the death of Paige. Kate had taken advantaged of him. It was _all_ her doing.

There the memory flashed and Derek was grateful for it. He didn’t want to deal with it again.

And then he landed in a memory worse than the last.

He was young. Ten years old as he held onto a ten year old girl with black girl. The two of them were in the woods in the middle of the night and the rain around them was pouring lazily. Derek watched his ten year old self hug the girl who was sobbing into his shoulder. Derek could still remember listening to her heartbeat and how faint it was. It was too late for her, no magic would be able to heal her.

“Derek, please.” Paige whispered.

“I can’t.”

“But it hurts. Just stop the pain, make it stop. I trust you.”

Derek watched himself dig his claws into her. Paige tightened her hold on his arms and then her hold gave out. Her hands became still and Paige looked at him lifeless.

Derek knew he did the right thing by ending her suffering. But he knew that this death was majorily his fault. Others, like the hunters who killed her were too blame as well but really it was all him. He had involved this girl with his family, he had told her about werewolves. He put her in danger and robbed her of a bright future just like he did for his Betas. He should have taken care of her more seriously but he was young and foolish, thinking with the mind of a child that nothing could harm him.

Derek watched his ten year old self change. His eyes shifted like a droplet of water falling into a stream, from a golden yellow to an electric blue. He took away the life of an innocent.

And Derek knew he still had the potential to take more away, especially of the people still alive. Derek knew that this is what Laura was trying to teach him.

People were thrown to information and action without being prepared sometimes. Some took the change in stride, others with strength, and others with a broken soul. It was inevitable to happen. He needed to be ready when his pack changed from his influence or the influences around them. He had to make sure they were strong enough to keep on going on with their life. He had to make sure that the changes in their lives didn’t put them in a position like Paige. A position where death became the only option to keep on going. Create stability in and out and everyone is safe.

He fell out of the memory and back into the training room covered in sweat. He was panting profusely and Laura was looking at him with adoration. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, sighing. This Alpha thing was going to be a lot more difficult than he had first thought and frankly he was so scared of it.

Laura approached him and gave him a hug. “Good job.” She whispered in his ear. “But we still have more training.”

The following five days continued with Laura telling him about werewolves. She passed down everything that their mother passed down to her. There was so much that Derek felt overwhelmed by it, but he was glad he was listening to it. It felt like a connection to his mother.

When he got his Betas back, he noticed the three smelled differently. They smelled like pack and he knew it was Cora’s doing since she had spent the last five days with them. He liked the smell.

The weeks went on with Derek helping the three get their anchors. Isaac’s anchor was his father and Boyd was his muggle family. Erica was different though. Both of them struggled to find her anchor and Derek had questioned her several times to find something that meant a lot to her. When they found it, the anchor was strange and Laura had commented it meant Erica was strong willed. Erica’s anchor was herself. And that was something Derek felt so proud of.

Training had to be changed obviously. He had to teach them how to fight without relying on their werewolf strength. So he had to go through several forms. He refused to fight and inflict pain on them though. He felt so stupid for not realizing it earlier. Isaac’s father had abused him and Derek was not helping matters by hitting Isaac back. And because he didn’t want to single Isaac out, he decided to use this method with the others.

He watched as Isaac dueled with the dummy that Derek had transfigured.

Isaac ducked from the doppelganger’s swing and threw a punch that connected with the dummy’s side.  Isaac followed it up by throwing an elbow to its face.  His elbow landed on the dummy’s nose with a crunch and if Derek had configured the simulation-spell to react to pain, the dummy would’ve been on its knees right now, clutching at its injury. But Derek wanted them to focus on all the techniques he had shown them and to do that, they needed a sparring partner that didn’t complain or got defeated by pain.  

The dummy did a three hundred sixty degree turn in an attempt to catch Isaac from behind, but Isaac grabbed his wrist just in time, twisted his arm and subsequently snapped it, complete with the sickening sound of breaking bone.  There was no pain etched on the dummy’s face, but the rest of him reacted realistically enough for Isaac to make his follow through.  He knocked the dummy’s feet from beneath it and sent it crashing to the floor.  Isaac planted his knee on the dummy’s back and grabbed the other arm, forcing the dummy’s wrists together, ending the match.

Isaac moved back to the edge of the practice-mat as the life-like visage of the dummy faded into its true self: screwed together round and cylindrical pieces of wood.

Derek nodded. “Good job, Isaac.”

Isaac grinned and headed to sit by the wall to drink some water. Derek wanted to stress the importance of fighting without werewolf strength and to use magic sparingly but efficiently. When they would fight Deucalion the lunar eclipse would hamper both those skills. So if the final battle ever came down to twelve minutes the lunar eclipse would be present, he wanted his Betas prepared. But hopefully, they would be able to defeat Deucalion before the lunar eclipse started.

“Alright Boyd you’re up.” Derek instructed.

Derek reset the dummy and it was up again, trading punches, arm locks, and takedowns, knees and elbows, and the occasional kick to Boyd.  Derek had once set the dummy to employ every means necessary to incapacitate them.  He learned quickly enough that setting no parameters had the dummy aiming and landing kicks to the boys’ family jewels.  There was—Isaac said—no need to go _that_ far.  Laura though said to limit the use of ballbusting kicks instead of disabling it completely because, after all, someone was bound to use it on them one of these days and he had to know how to deflect, dodge, and, if the kick connected, go on fighting in spite of the pain.

And so Boyd lost himself to the dance. Boyd was the best fighter of them. He was thinking of moving Boyd to spar with Laura, he was getting to the point where he could take down the dummy in ten seconds flat, even when Derek would set the dummy to the highest settings. Boyd incapacitated the dummy and looked to Derek.

“Impressive. Did you use to fight?” Derek questioned curiously.

“My older sister takes martial arts. Taught me a bit.” He said.

“What is with older hostile sisters?” Cora spoke, where she was sitting next to Laura. Laura kicked her. “Ow.”

“Cause we need to break little annoying brats.” Laura said.

“Erica you’re turn.” Derek said to stop his sisters.

Erica grinned and sprung into action. She was able to take down the dummy just as quick. He gave his Betas a break as they lounged around the training room.

After a moment he turned to Laura, groaning, as he remembered something. “I’m going to need to train Scott.”

“Scott? Whose Scott?”

“He’s the one Peter bit.” Cora stated.

“Crap. I forgot about that. So what, he’s coming over?”

Cora answered. “Yeah, Scott flooed me last week saying he’ll come over like in three or four days.”

“We should have Erica, Isaac, and Boyd out of the house for that.”

“Why?” Derek asked. He was kind of hoping on training them together.

“Scott isn’t your Beta. We can’t assume how he will act when he is taking commands. Best to leave distractions out of the house. I’ll give them some money and have Cora take them out. By the way when is Deaton coming? Weren’t we supposed to plan?”

“Not sure, he’s been busy. I saw Morrell though going to Peter’s room a few days ago to give him the potion and I told her not to. She said she didn’t know and will stop coming. And she said we most likely won’t be able to talk to Deaton until school resumes.”

“What is he doing?”

“Something about getting a new DADA teacher and looking for a group of people. I didn’t really understand.”

“Wait a new DADA? Again?”

“Yeah last one got fired for Merlin knows what.”

“Sucks. Well floo Scott and tell him to tell you a day before he’s coming over so I get head’s up. Kay?”

Derek nodded and went over to his Betas to began training once again.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Stiles was bouncing all around and pointing to everything that was in his line of sight. Muggle transportation was so exciting. Muggles were certainly curious things as they placed money to board the bus and directed they wanted to stop by pulling the yellow cords. He knew the Knight Bus ran in a similar fashion but according to his dad it ran much faster and disregarded Muggle rules.

“Dude, stop.” Scott chuckled. “People are staring.”

Stiles jumped back into his seat. “Sorry. How were your family?”

“All right. Kept pretty good control for most of it. No one suspected a thing.”

“That’s good. Full moon is tonight. You’re coming over right?”

“Yeah. Unless Derek wants us to stay.”

Stiles nodded and followed Scott hastily when he informed them this was their stop. They began walking toward Derek’s house which ended up being a few streets down. When they got there, Stiles looked at the doorbell and pressed it enthusiastically.

“You know, I find it weird they live here.” Stiles commented.

“Why?”

Stiles shrugged and watched as the front door open. Scott and him were taken back at the face. The older woman was beautiful. Perfect skin, curled black hair, intense eyes—she was breathtaking. It only lasted a moment though when she pressed her hand to her nose.

“Oh c’mon!” Stiles shouted. “I took three showers before coming over! Scott I thought you said I smelled ok?”

“I lied.” Scott said. “You must be Laura? I’m Scott and this is my friend Stiles.”

Laura pushed the door open to let them inside and closed the door behind them. She pulled out her wand and Stiles watched her cast several perfume spells. “DEREK!”

“I heard.” Derek grumbled, climbing the stairs already.

“You couldn’t have warned me about his friend. He smells like beetle dung!” Laura screeched.

“Sorry.” Derek said not really meaning it. Stiles watched him pause and look them over, especially Stiles. Stiles felt self-conscious and pulled his flannel closer to his body. He was wearing muggle clothing on Scott’s and his father’s orders. He didn’t mind it, muggle clothes tended to be much comfier but Derek kept eyeing him strangely and very intensely. Derek looked away, when Laura gagged behind them and cast a spell to stop her from smelling anything. “Come on up.”

Stiles turned to Scott and they both gave each other a shrug, heading up the three flights of stairs. The Hale home was strange mostly because it was so normal, Stiles thought. He expected dark colors, maybe a body or two hanging from the ceiling but nope. Stiles could see that Derek and his family lived in a beautiful home, filled with pastels of blue, grey and white. He tried to ignore it as they went to the training room. It was an entire room with just hardwood floor and a window leading to the balcony.

“Where Cora and the others?” Scott asked.

“I sent them to train in the city. They have to find Cora using scent alone.”

“Is that safe?” Stiles asked, looking around the spacious room and finally heading to the window that led to the balcony. He looked outside and saw muggles across the street.

“Yeah they all have their anchors all ready. They have everything under control.”

“Seriously?” Scott asked.

Derek nodded. And then looked to Scott. “All right come at me.”

“What?”

“Come at me. I need to see where you are at.”

“Uh…”

“Dude,” Stiles said, turning to his friend. “A chance to attack Derek without any repercussions and you’re questioning it?”

Scott rolled his eyes but called upon his wolf side. Immediately, he charged at Derek and Stiles stood back watching the fight. Scott wasn’t half bad, Stiles noticed, at least compared to the debacle in the woods a few months ago. Scott had told him during the three weeks he was absent, Scott’s cousin who was a muggle taught him how to box. Stiles’ didn’t know what putting things in boxes had to do with anything, but he noticed that Scott was quick in his punches and light on his feet.

“Hmm...he can give Der-Bear a run for his money. But that’s not really saying much, Der-Bear is terrible fighter,” Laura said beside him.

Stiles choked on laughter. “I’m sorry, Der-Bear?”

They both heard Derek growl a few feet away from them. Laura nodded and giggled. “That’s what I call him.”

“Oh Merlin’s polka dotted underpants thats better than sourwolf.”

“Sourwolf? Ha! Oh, I have to use that one. Sorry, I didn’t properly introduce myself, your scent caught me off guard. I’m Laura.”

“Stiles. And I’m sorry about that. All the werewolves tell me that.”

“Why do you smell like that? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Deaton said I’m a Moonwalker.”

Both of them heard a thunk as Derek managed to flip Scott over and climb behind.

Derek let go of Scott and turned to the other two.“When did you learn that?” Derek asked.

“A bit before we left school. Wait, do you know what it means?” Stiles asked.

Derek shook his head. “No, but I think remember my mother mentioned once.”

Stiles turned to Laura. “I don’t know anything sorry.” She said genuinely.

“Oh,” Stiles said disappointed.

Derek turned away from Stiles looking to Scott. “Again, that was a good start. Now don’t hold back.”

“I wasn’t holding back.”

Laura chuckled. “Yeah you were. Full moon is tonight. You have a lot more fight in you.”

Stiles met Scott’s troubled eyes. His friend wanted some sort of notice that it was ok and all Stiles could do was tell him.”Knock yourself out.”

Again the two came colliding against each other and this time, Scott was much more ferocious. It was startling to see Scott like that as he only had seen Scott fight with all his strength once, but he had been out of control then. This was different. Scott was precise and deadly.

Scott at last pinned Derek to the ground and Derek let out a low grunt. Laura laughed with glee, standing up to go pick her brother up. “That was pretty good, Scott. You want to try against me?”

“Laura, no.”

Stiles looked at Laura. While she looked strikingly similar to Derek, her personality was much different. She was confident and self assured and most of all there was this teasing playful smirk behind her lips that could either mean sexy fun times or death. Stiles still wasn’t sure.

“Why not?” Scott questioned.

“You know what, knock yourself out.” Derek dramatically sighed and walked to where Stiles was sitting. Stiles was instantly curious of how Laura fought.

Laura shook her head. “Nope, Derek get up. Both of you against me. It can be training for both of you of how well you work together.”

Derek sighed again but agreed with his sister.

And before he knew it, she had jumped and landed a roundhouse to Derek’s face.  Stiles didn’t even see her graceful landing.  All he knew was that Derek had gotten hit by a jackhammer and that he was definitely down for the count.  She may have loosened some teeth.

“Son of a— _GODDAMMIT LAURA!_ ”  Derek yelled, pounding his hand on the floor in frustration and pain.  She had been fast.  Stiles hadn’t even seen it coming.  

Derek’s head was still spinning as he pushed himself off the floor and he had to shake his head a couple of times just so Laura would be one person instead of ten.

But in spite of all that, Stiles could see that Derek was determined to beat her. When he turned to Scott, he looked frightened.  “Maybe I should sit this out—” Scott mumbled.

“Scared?” Laura giggled.

“It’s not—“

She smirked.  “Don’t be such a _Hufflepuff_ …”

Stiles laughed, oh that was totally a blow on Derek.

“ _There_ ,” Derek said dangerously, “is nothing wrong with being a Hufflepuff.”

Oh, but the smile on her face was evil.  “ _Huufflepuuuff_ …” she breathed in a singsong tone.

“You’re going down,” Derek said, getting into his defensive stance.  “Let’s go. Scott don’t hold back.”

“That’s the spirit,” she whispered with what Stiles could only discern as delighted anticipation.  She put her left hand behind her back and held out her right, going into a one-handed, straight-backed stance.

Derek frowned and dropped his stance, throwing a gesture at her.  “What the hell is that?”

She affected a puzzled smirk, staying the way she was.  “Well, you can call it the Praying Fucking Mantis, for all I care.  But really, it doesn’t have a name.”

Stiles laughed again. He hadn’t ever seen this much expression on Derek and the way Laura was bringing it out was perfect. “I mean what’s with the hand behind the back?” Derek shot out.

“Oh!  Well, that I have a name for. I call it the I Don’t Want To Kick Your Ass Too Badly stance.”

“Fine, then.  Do what you want, but feel free to use both hands when the need arises.  I won’t hold it against you.”  He went back, loosening the muscles on his neck as he raised his fists and angled his shoulders to form.  

Scott did the same.

“Oh Scott, you look adorable when you do that,” She winked at him.

Scott flushed. He stole a glance at Derek before speaking, “Quit stalling and make the first move.”

“Make the first move?  I’m _not_ that kind of girl.”

Stiles had to admit, she was pretty good with the battle-banter. How was Derek even related to her? She was freaking awesome.

Derek went for a basic arm lock that was meant to incapacitate her, but she flipped her hand, then her arm, evading his grip with fluid ease.

She smirked. Scott went in for a full-body take down, gliding smoothly to get his arm across her chest so he could brace her for a backward leg sweep.

But even before Scott could get a lock on her shoulders, she maneuvered her head, swept it under his arm and smoothly transitioned into ramming her shoulder into his ribs.  He stumbled back and it knocked the wind out of him a bit, but it didn’t hurt very badly.

Laura threw a punch.  Derek blocked it and she grinned just when she turned her fist to grab his wrist, pulled him towards her and sank her knee right where his diaphragm was.

He fell over, his breath getting sucked right out of him.  He saw blackness and stars; an alternating flash of light and dark.  He managed a painful, rasping gasp—or two—before he was able to return to a semblance of normal breathing.

“Just because I have one hand behind my back and the other is occupied hitting you, it doesn’t mean I don’t have a follow through,” she said.  “I could’ve kicked you, too, you know.  Both my legs were free and you were wide open. I thought I taught you this already Derek.”

Derek pushed himself off the floor and ignored the fiery ache in his abdomen, he went back into stance.  “Alright, play time’s over,” He managed without rasping.

“Try to mean it, this time,” She said, eyebrow arching.  She was still going to do it one-handed, but she lowered her stance, and Stiles got the impression that since she looked more determined, she was going to up the ante of her defense as well.

She attacked first and even as Scott blocked, he felt the upped force of her punch.  And then her foot was heading his way, and he had to block that, and she was turning, and he didn’t know what to expect.  He had to seriously stay alert to catch each and every strike.  If he weren’t so intent on preserving the dignity of his ass, he would’ve stopped to admire the distinctive grace she kept in combat.

When finally, she pulled back to stop the barrage of hits, he was panting from the effort, and she still had one hand behind her back.

She grinned.  “Well, that’s better.  Let’s go a bit faster, shall we?”

She attacked again, this time she used both hands. Derek and Scott attacked at the same time, and Stiles was in awe, that with both her hands up, she pretty much kicked their asses.  There was no use denying it, she was good; she was phenomenal.

She was beating them.  Strike after strike, hit after hit, she would do something completely unorthodox that would have them stumbling, doubling over, or just flat out falling.

After a moment though, Derek and Scott began to get in synch with each other and guarded one another when Laura attacked. After that, it didn’t take very long to take Laura down.

“Wait,” Stiles said when the spar appeared to be over. “I thought you were a Beta how are you stronger than Derek?”

Laura smiled. “Cause I had more training growing up. But Scott is really good. Practically a natural. It took us weeks to get Erica, Boyd, and Isaac to even throw a successful punch.”

“They’re Hufflepuffs.” Stiles said as if that explained everything. Laura laughed.

Derek growled. “I’m a Hufflepuff.”

Stiles chortled. “Yeah, like you’re the perfect poster boy for Hufflepuff.”

Laura began cracking up. “I like you. If it wasn’t for the terrible smell, I would love to have you around.”

“Thank you?”

“So what else do we need to do?” Scott asked.

“Fighting is pretty much it. Have you got full control of your anchor.”

Scott shuffled awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck. “Sort of.”

“What do you mean sort of?” Derek questioned.

“I still only have control if Stiles’ is in the same room as me.”

“That’s weird.” Laura commented. “I don’t think our mom ever encountered something like that. It could be though cause your a Moonwalker, whatever that means. I’m kind of just guessing.”   
“Does it matter? Stiles and I are kind of attached at the hip.” Scott remarked.

“Guess not.” Laura said, eyeing both of them curiously.

It unnerved Stiles how a face that resembled Derek so much was eyeing him up and down. It made him feel like he was being violated-again. And he was not going to be the object of query two times in less than an hour by another Hale. He tucked his arms under his armpits and swayed back and forth. “So we done?” Stiles asked.

Derek nodded. “For the most part. You guys can go.”

“Der-Bear! Invite them for dinner!”

Derek looked at his sister with a perfect, ‘bitch please’ look.

“I actually promised my mom I would have dinner with her.” Scott said with a smile. “Maybe next time, _Der-Bear_.”

Everyone in the room laughed, except Derek of course, who was glaring as hard as he could. Stiles opened his mouth to add to the insult but Derek turned to him quickly. “Not another word.”

“Sorry, sourwolf.”

Derek lunged for Stiles. Stiles eeped hiding behind Scott, while Laura grabbed her brother with ease and threw an arm around him.

Laura chuckled. “Oh I’m gonna love having you two around. Don’t make yourself strangers. I’ll open the fireplace for you two, just give me heads up, k?”

Scott and Stiles nodded and both began heading down the stairs as they headed to the front door. Stiles noticed Scott pause and turn back inside the house. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Stiles asked.

And in that moment they noticed a figure standing at the top of the stairs. He was a man with slicked back hair and pale skin. He was swaying back and forth with an empty look in his eyes.

Derek rushed to the front door. “That would be Peter. It’s best you leave.”

“Peter?” Stiles didn’t back down. “The one who bit Scott?!”

“Yeah.”

Stiles took a good look at him. He looked harmless, but he also looked extremely brain dead. It seemed as if something was tethering him to remain upright and moving and Stiles had a pretty good guess that the tether was Scott.

“I’m gonna step outside,” Scott said softly behind him.

Stiles didn’t have to question why. Scott turned around and shut the door. Stiles looked to Derek. “What’s wrong with him?”

“The transference spell, usually leaves the victim like this.”

“So can he hear us?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can you be so calm? Peter, attacked your sister, didn’t he? Why are you housing him?” Stiles said, his voice level.

“He lives here,” Derek said calmly.

Stiles furrowed his brows together, horribly confused. “Are you insane? Shouldn’t you be more upset that he’s here? Why isn’t anyone upset?”

“You seem pretty upset to me,” Derek sarcastically added.

“Yeah, well that’s cause-cause,” Stiles groaned in frustration, turning to look at Derek’s catatonic uncle. He didn’t have an answer. He was upset because Peter bit Scott, but for some unknown reason he felt far more agitated knowing Derek and the others were living with a psychopathic freak.

“Cause?” Derek questioned.

Stiles scoffed, turning to the other. “Whatever. I’ll see you at school then.”

Stiles left the Hale house with a sense of dismay and distress and even looking at Scott didn’t calm him down. It wasn’t until arriving back at Scott’s home on the bus, did Stiles recognize the grumbling emotion as worry. Worry for Derek Hale? Stiles smirked, that was new.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yes! Development for Sterek!
> 
> Tell me what you thought of the Legilimens and the triskelion symbol? I really thought hard on this so I would appreciate what you thought of it? Also, what do you think of my Laura Hale? Please review!
> 
> Oh and thank you guys! I finally hit 100 bookmarks and 300 kudos. Keep them coming! 
> 
> My tumblr [(X)](twinklingpaopufruit.tumblr.com)


	19. Vulnerability

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and his Betas bond over a run in the forest but gain more than they wanted.

It was a rare day where all three Betas were sprawled all across the sitting room doing absolutely nothing. Derek stumbled inside and nearly tripped over Isaac who was napping on the floor. From his awkward angles, Derek easily assumed that he was asleep on the couch before Erica decided to take charge and pushed him over. Boyd was sitting on the recliner chair with both arms and legs crossed. His heartbeat was steady but not slow, meaning that he was still awake.

“They’ve been asleep for about an hour,” Boyd said without cracking open an eye.

Derek liked Boyd. He was quiet and took commands fairly well, even though Derek could still smell the scent of mistrust coming off him. He knew Boyd had the hardest time trusting him. He constantly scrutinized everything he did and when he was training with Erica or Isaac he rarely took his eyes off him, from fear he would hurt them. Derek at first didn’t understand, but when Cora informed him that Boyd was the smartest of the bunch most likely meant that he had done his research on werewolves before even approaching Derek for the bite.

Derek knew that ninety percent of werewolf lore was bullshit and written by vengeful purebloods. He just knew that Boyd was trying to figure out what was true and false in his head and if the mistrust came from what he read, then Derek was just going to keep quiet and wait for Boyd to figure it out on his own. He was doing fairly well on his own already.

“Were you guys training on your own?” Derek asked.

Boyd opened his eyes. “A bit, Erica got a bit competitive, Isaac threw a fit, and now we’re here. Not sure how that happened.”

That was old news. Derek was blindsided by how much Erica and Isaac let the wolf into their personality and minds. Letting the wolf in was a conscious decision and looking at his Betas sleeping, he knew exactly why they did it. It was a defense mechanism.

Erica became strong-willed, not that Derek denied she wasn’t before, but it was now more apparent. She rolled her eyes, acted hostile, and was quick to attack but still somehow stay in control. She was walking a fine line of her own self and that of the wolf.

Isaac on the other hand, had the wolf react differently. It was almost like a double personality, making him have mood swings. It was difficult to tell when he was going to speak with the cocky one or the shy, meek one.

Derek sat down on the empty couch. He wondered briefly why Erica hadn’t just chosen this one instead of pushing Isaac, but who was he to question the whims of the fifteen year old girl.

As soon as he sat down though, a knocking reverberated against the room. Immediately, Erica and Isaac shot up both of their eyes turning yellow. Boyd smirked at their reaction and Derek rolled his eyes as he turned to the french doors that led to the backyard.

There were five owls pecking at the window insistently. Derek cringed, rushing to the door before one of them scratched the window. He opened them and the five came tumbling inside landing on the coffee table in a tumble.

All of them were hooting loudly and pecking at Isaac fondly who was still on the floor.

Boyd stood up. “I’ll go get something for them.” He retreated to the kitchen to get the owls some snacks.

Somehow, all of them managed to remove the letters from the owls’ ankles and feed the birds.

The letters were all from Hogwarts. Before any of them could open their letters, the front door opened and Cora and Laura came through with armloads of groceries.

“Hogwarts letters?” Cora asked, placing the bags on the ground.

Laura took out her wand and waved it in the air. All the items in the bags began floating to their respective pantry shelves. Both girls walked to the room and Cora picked up her letter.

“Why does mine feel heavy?” Cora asked.

“Same.” Boyd said.

“WAIT!” Laura cried out. “ _Accio camera!_ ”  Quickly a wizard camera flew down the stairs and into Laura’s hands. “Ok, now open them.”

Cora and Boyd gave her weird looks but then followed to open their letters. It was the usual list of books they would need, but inside there was a badge. A red and gold one for Cora and a yellow and black for Boyd. Laura snapped a picture and both of them looked at her dumbfounded.

“Prefects run in the family,” Laura said. “Congrats Boyd.”  Both nodded and then Laura turned to Derek who had two letters. “Is that your OWL scores?” Laura asked.

Derek nodded, not yet opening the letter.

“Open it,” Isaac prompted.

Derek was slightly worried and he wasn’t sure why. He heard a groan from his right and before he knew it, Erica was stepping on the sofa cushions and yanking the letter from him. With one of her claws she opened the letter and without looking at it, stuffed it in Derek’s face.

Derek read it carefully.

“What happened? Got all T’s?” Cora laughed. “I knew you weren’t gonna get the Camaro.”

Derek ignored her, reading the letter repeatedly.

**_Ordinary Wizarding Level Results_ **

**_Pass Grades  
_ ** _Outstanding (O)  
_ _Exceeds Expectations (E)  
_ _Acceptable (A)  
_ ****_Fail Grades  
_ _Poor (P)  
_ _Dreadful (D)  
_ _Troll (T)_

**_Derek Lucas Hale has achieved_ **

_Astronomy (E)  
_ _Arithmancy (A)  
_ _Charms (A)  
_ _Defense Against the Dark Arts (O)  
_ _Divination (P)  
_ _Herbology (E)  
_ _History of Magic (O)  
_ _Potions (A)  
_ _Transfiguration (O)_

“What did you get?” Erica asked, tucking herself at Derek’s side.

Derek finally regained his senses and smirked at Laura. “Camaro please.” He outstretched his hand.

Laura quirked an eyebrow and yanked the results. “Eight OWLS! Derek this amazing.”

All the Betas read over Laura’s shoulder.

“You failed Divination.” Isaac commented.

“Everyone fails Divination.” Laura stated. “I did. I should have taken Ancient Runes.”

“I wonder who got the other badge for Gryffindor.” Cora interrupted.

“Scott?” Boyd asked.

Cora laughed. “Please, he has too many detentions same goes for Stiles. I bet Jackson got for Slytherin.”

“Ethan?” Erica asked.

“Probably.” Cora said.

“We’ll find out when we see them,” Isaac said, stretching on the floor and reading his list. “Ugh we have a new book again for DADA.”

All the upcoming fifth years turned to their letters again. “ _Defense contre les forces du Mal: Pratique sur la Théorie de Gilles Garnier:_ Translated by Mathias Roux.”

“French teacher?” Erica asked.

“And that’s Deaton getting desperate.” Derek said realizing that he had a new book too.

“I hope this one’s good at least.” Boyd said.

Derek agreed. Defense was his favorite subject and he could not believe the incompetence of several of the teachers.

“I just feel bad for you guys. You’re probably going to struggle for your OWLs this year from having a different professor every year.” Laura commented.

“It wasn’t that bad.” Derek said, standing up. “Now Camaro please.”

Laura rolled her eyes and flicked her wand. The keys came flying from nowhere and were in Laura’s hands. “Ok car rules.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “What?”

“Always wear your seatbelt.”

“We’re werewolves. We heal.”

“Fair point well then the car doesn’t.” She said, before continuing. “Check your blind spot when changing lanes.”

“Heightened supernatural senses.” Derek crossed his arms over his chest.

“Der-Bear you’re supposed to let me give you the safe driving talk.”

“Fine. Continue.”

“Keep the tank filled, car clean, and any scratches come out of your pocket. Got it.”

“Yes.” Derek snatched the keys and headed over to the front door, grabbing his leather jacket from the closet beside the front door. “Anyone coming?”

Erica, Isaac, and Boyd grinned and rushed over. Cora and Laura sighed, wishing the three a safe trip.

Derek stroked the console and gear shift as his Betas climbed inside. Boyd marvelled the car as much as he did while Erica was gushing over the leather seats. Isaac not knowing anything about muggle transportation listened to Derek attentively as he explained what made this car amazing. He did complain though that the car would have been better as a stick shift instead of an automatic but Laura never learned how to drive stick shift and the car was hers to begin with so...

“Where we going?” Erica asked, snaking her arms behind Derek and wrapping them around Derek’s shoulders.

Derek grinned.

“Oh my god, don’t make that face. It looks like you’re going to kill someone.” Erica inputted.

“Like your smile screams rays of sunshine.” Isaac grinned.

“I think we can all agree we all look like we are going to murder someone when we smile.” Boyd said, smiling too.

“You say it like its a bad thing.” Erica snickered and settled into her seat as Derek pulled out of the driveway and began to drive. “But really where are we headed?”

Derek didn’t answer.

“You know your silence kind of unnerves me. Very kidnapper and serial killerish.” Isaac commented, playing with the window. Even after weeks of being exposed to vehicles, Isaac still had not gotten over his fascination with them.

“You three do not know the meaning of a surprise do you?” Derek asked and changed lanes (checking his blind spot!—Laura would be proud) to pull into Motorway 4.

“Are we going to Bristol?” Boyd asked, recognizing the motorway.

“No, but we’ll stop there for a bathroom break and get a bite to eat.”

“Just tell us!” Erica whined.

Derek looked in the rearview mirror and saw her pouting. “Are you wearing heels?” He asked instead.

“Yeah why?”

“Nothing, just remind me to charm them into proper footwear when we get there.”

“You’re not gonna tell us are you?” Erica asked.

“Nope.”

The ride went smooth with minimal arguing done by his Betas. Usually a small growl or a flash of red eyes had them quieting down—usually. He wondered if they were becoming desensitized to it. That was not a good thing. Especially after the sixth time he growled at them they all bursted into laughter.

After about two hours on the road, he pulled out of the motorway to head to the Mall at Cribbs Causeway. They went into a pizza shop and watched the chefs make the pizza in front of them and settled into their seats. Erica and Isaac wanted to go shopping, but Boyd and Derek held firm. They were not letting Erica buy more clothes—Cora would not stop complaining that Erica was taking up all the closet space. And Boyd had already threatened Isaac if he saw one more scarf on his side of the room he was going to dig his claws so deep it would take hours to heal. Luckily, the two complied.

Something Derek did notice as they ate was that several of the men in the mall kept glancing at Erica not even hiding their attraction. Derek wanted to step in and tell them to stop objectifying his Beta, but Boyd and Isaac beat him to it. Isaac snarked and sassed one of the boys with too many crooked teeth and acne while Boyd merely intimidated the boys with his presence. Erica looked like she could care less and seemed to enjoy the attention. At least, until the eighth boy kept gawking at her breast.

The boy with yellow stained teeth and already a receding hair line was about Erica’s age and was the only one who was courageous—stupid enough—to approach the blonde.

“Hello,” He said kindly enough.

Erica smiled politely, but it was forced.

“I can’t help but notice, but you’re awfully a sight to look at. And I mean that in the best of ways.”

“Thank you,” She said losing interest.

“Would you like to have some tea. There’s a nice tea shop across the mall.”

“No, thank you.”

“C’mon.”

“No.”

“Why?”

Boyd stood up. “She’s not interested.”

“Who are you?” The boy asked.

Derek sighed and slouched further into his seat waiting for it to happen. Erica stood up immediately. With her four inch heels she easily towered over the boy. She placed her hand on his forearm and subtly extended her claws. “Not interested. Now bye.” The boy groaned as Erica released him. The boy gave their group one last look before scampering off to his original seat. Erica sat down with a huff, flicking her blonde hair behind her.

“What?” She barked at them.

“Nothing.” The three said in tandem.

The four headed back to the parking lot, with Erica laughing like her usual self. They piled in the car again and Derek merged onto Motorway 5 continuing their trip. He half heartedly listened to their conversation as they argued over which band was better the Cornish Pixies or the Felix Felicis Fellers. Isaac was giving a detailed discography on how the Felix Felicis Fellers had matured over time making them a far more superior group. Meanwhile, Boyd said the Cornish Pixies were the best rag to riches bands out there making them better.

Derek looked at the signs as he drove past. They had just crossed Kenford just a few more minutes. He was glad that he had spaced this out correctly. It was already turning dark and it would be perfect for what he had in mind.

When he finally reached his destination his pack was looking at him weirdly as he parked the car in the woods instead of in the parking lot. Everyone climbed out and Derek looked around before pulling out his wand and casting an illusion charm around the car.

“Ok, ready?”

“Where are we?” Isaac asked.

“Holand Forest Park.” Derek smiled, as he pointed to Erica’s heels. They were easy enough to transform into a pair of black sneakers.

“Why?”

“To run.”

“You serious?”

“Werewolf packs run together in the woods.” Derek said already leaving the three behind. He walked steadily until he was sure they were far away from the trails.  “Now try to keep up.” Derek grinned and took off at a sprint.

The others were not far behind as he listened to their footsteps. He made the run complicated, jumping over fallen trees, large hills, jumping over streams. He could hear a few of them tripping, but as they called upon their wolf side it became natural to them. Derek breathed in the smell of joy coming from his pack as they kept running.

Derek forgot how much he had enjoyed doing this. With his family they constantly went on runs at least once a week. He remembered that he used to hang off his father’s or mother’s back, as they ran their top speed. Running meant good memories and Derek was happy to share them with his new pack.  

He was trying to be better for them. Trying not to push them away and while he knew sometimes he still did. He was improving and it was showing of how much stronger his pack’s bond was becoming. How strong he was becoming.

As they neared the edge of the woods, Derek stopped and his Betas froze behind him.

“What’s wrong?” Erica asked.

Derek shushed her, listening carefully. He blocked out the noise of the woods and followed the harsh scream that he had heard only a second ago. When he found it, he was taken back of how loud and how many screams there were. His pack tried to listen too.

“What is that?” Boyd’s voice held urgency.

“A town is getting attacked.”

They froze as they heard a werewolf howl. Without preamble, they took off running in that direction. In five minutes, that seemed overly too long, Derek and his pack stopped at the edge of the woods. They saw a small wizard village covered in flames. Blurs of people were running and those who could apparate were popping sporadically around the town.

“That’s my village.” Isaac murmurred. He sprinted quickly, disregarding the secrecy of his lycanthropy.

“ISAAC!” Derek shouted.

The fifteen year old did not stop. He continued running and Derek, Boyd, and Erica were forced to chase after him. Inside the village, Derek could see what the issue was. Bodies bled into the cobblestone floor of the village. Each wound coming from a neck or the side of their body, it was unmistakable who these attacks belonged to.

“Shit. Deucalion.” Derek whispered.

_“Right you are.”_

The three turned around saw Deucalion’s mouth covered in blood. “What are you doing here? I thought you lived in London.” Deucalion asked. He pulled out a handkerchief and politely wiped away the blood stains.

Derek pulled his wand out. “Erica, go find Isaac.”

Erica looked conflicted by leaving Derek alone, but went anyway.

“There’s no need to attack me, Derek. We’re almost done.” Deucalion said.

“I know what you’re planning.” Derek hissed.

“I doubt you do.”

“I know plenty. You need to stop. You have no idea what power you are going to unleash.”

“I know exactly what I’m doing.” He stopped as he sniffed the air. “What is this? You're the Alpha, now?” He gave a soft smile. “What happened, didn’t think Peter was good enough?”

“He nearly killed my sister!” Derek shouted loudly, his voice reverberating in the air.

“It seems like the flair for dramatics runs in the family.” Deucalion teased. “Who’s this, your new Beta?”

Boyd growled.

“Strong. Obedient. And in full control. You chose well, congratulations.” He peered over Derek’s shoulder, and Derek looked back quickly. He saw Kali and Ennis approaching maliciously. “How many?”

“Only two boys both fifteen.” Kali spoke orderly.

Deucalion nodded. “Nice chatting with you Derek.” And with that all three werewolves apparated leaving a trail of black smoke. Derek cast a useless spell at the smoke and after looking around followed the scent Isaac left behind. They wound up in a small home and Derek stopped as he stepped inside. He smelled fresh blood. A lot.

He walked in slowly and saw Isaac on his knees overlooking a body. The body’s side had badly been mutilated and although the person was dead, blood still seeped through the wizard’s robes.  Erica was hugging Isaac, trying to pull him to his feet.  

Derek was not sure what Isaac was feeling. His eyes conveyed no emotion, they were lifeless and unblinking. His body was rigid and taut as Erica tried to shield him from the view. Derek took a step closer and looked at the face of the man. He looked similar to Isaac and Derek knew instantly that it was Isaac’s father.

“Isaac…” Derek whispered.

Isaac didn’t move. It was not until Derek sniffed the air that he could tell what Isaac was feeling and it was the most complex array of emotions he had ever smelled. The air was filled with the sour smell of guilt, the citrus tang of happiness, the bitterness of overwhelming sadness, the soft musk of earth for relief, and dry grass for desolation.

“The aurors are going to be here, soon.” Boyd spoke. His voice felt too loud in the small home as the muffled screaming wails roared outside.

Derek understood. They needed to get out of here. He walked up to the pair and lifted Erica to her feet. She looked mournfully at Isaac. He then lifted Isaac. It felt like lifting an empty shell. “We need to go, now.” Derek spoke carefully.

Isaac gave a single nod. Together the three ran back into the woods without any of the wizard villagers noticing. When they reached the car, it was then that Isaac broke down.

He punched the trunk of the tree. He clawed at it. He kicked it. He banged his head against it. Derek stood back as Isaac sobbed, his voice sounding like the collection of several people. Parts of it were crying, laughing, sobbing, and screaming until it was hoarse.

He sagged against the tree, the bark of it scraping against his forehead. Derek watched his entire body shake as his claws dug into the truck, letting them ground him. It was painful to watch. Derek could not even begin to comprehend what Isaac was feeling. He loved his family and they never abused him, such an action was unthinkable. He didn’t want to understand how Isaac felt compassion and hate for the man he shared the same blood with it. It was too gut wrenching to think about it when his family was filled with cheer and very little strife.

He deeply regretted bringing Isaac and the others into this forest. If he had chosen Sherwood Forest, where his family used to live, Isaac would not have witnessed this horrific event. If only, he had gotten the courage to deal with his past mistakes and go back home, Isaac wouldn’t be this broken mess. He would have read about it in the papers or received a letter and his grieving would have been different. But what did Derek expect? He destroyed everything. Why would this be any different.

It was Erica and Boyd who held firm and walked to Isaac. Erica laid her body all along Isaac’s back, while Boyd took both of his arms and embraced them both from the side.

Isaac’s heartbeat stuttered. It raced for a few seconds and then began to slow into painful harsh throbs. Isaac retracted from the tree and sunk against the two.

Derek let the three hug it out and when he felt like it was long enough, took off the illusion on the car, pulled out his keys, and climbed inside the car. Without prompting, all three climbed into the backseat with Isaac in the middle. Derek began to drive.

The ride back home was much quicker as it was late at night and there was little traffic. When they finally arrived home. Isaac retreated to his bedroom without speaking to anyone. Laura, who was sitting in the living room with a blanket draped over herself and Cora while they watched TV, looked at the group with confusion. Laura carefully sat up and looked to Derek.

“What happened?” She spoke urgently.

“Deucalion.”

“What?!”

“He attacked Isaac’s village. They killed his father.”

Laura’s eyes opened wide and she stood up, quickly already heading to the stairs. Derek grabbed her arm. “I think he needs time alone.”

“If I remember correctly being alone with your thoughts is not the best way to deal with a lost family member.” Laura snapped in a whisper. But they all heard her.

“Isaac’s father was nothing like our family. Let him grieve. You can check on him tomorrow.”

Laura clenched her jaw but nodded heading back to the couch.

“Derek?” Erica asked softly. Derek paused. He hadn’t heard that meek voice from Erica in weeks.

“Yeah.”

“Is that what we are going to be up against?”

“Yes.”

Erica held her arms close to her body and swallowed excess saliva. Derek smelled the hint of fear coming from her frame. “We saw Ennis right as he bit into Isaac’s dad. We froze. We didn’t know what to do. We didn’t do anything. I didn’t do anything to stop it, to help. How am I supposed to help you to stop all this?”

Derek looked over to Laura for help. Laura patted the side cushion beside her. Erica slowly walked over to Laura and sat down, leaning against her.

Laura pushed strands off Erica’s face. “It’s ok to be scared. Don’t worry about what happened today. It was your first experience with death. Nobody knows what to do the first time.”

“So what? I just get used to death and I’ll be ok? That sounds like utter bull!” Erica’s voice cracked hysterically.

“Yes.” Boyd spoke up who was refusing to sit down. “We all have to get used to the concept of death. Whether it be gruesome or restful, death happens all the time and you can’t stop it no matter what you do. If you can understand that a lot of things become easier.”

Derek turned to Boyd with awe. How did that come out of such a young boy?

Boyd continued. “You said that you got there when Ennis was already biting into Isaac’s dad. You couldn’t do anything at that point anymore. Isaac’s dad rejected the bite. There was nothing you could do. Not attacking was a smart choice. Ennis would have killed you and Isaac without backup. That was the best you could do given the circumstance.”

Erica’s eyes shook as she took in Boyd’s words. She nodded and looked to Derek as if searching for confirmation. He nodded and Erica let out a long sigh. She looked up at the ceiling and everyone did the same. All of them tried listening to see what Isaac was doing but all they could hear was a steady heartbeat.

“Ok, time for bed.” Laura said. “It’s been a long day for all of you.”

Nobody complained about the motherly tone of Laura’s words and the Betas all went upstairs, leaving Derek and Laura alone.

Derek sighed and headed to the backyard, opening the french windows with a little too much force. Laura followed as Derek knew she would.

The two didn’t say a word for a long time as they sat in the grass looking up at the sky. There was too much city light to watch the stars that Derek had seen hours ago.

Laura finally broke the silence. “You’re doing the best you can.”

“I could have gotten them killed.” Derek spoke.

“No, you didn’t attack Deucalion. You wisely held back. Deucalion would have killed you and then where would we be to stop this.”

“I showed vulnerability to Deucalion, that’s what I did.”

“Vulnerability is a good thing.” Laura whispered softly to a distant spirit rather than to Derek.

“What do you mean?”

“When you're an Alpha sometimes new powers awaken. When an Alpha shows true vulnerability and acceptance they turn into a wolf. I made my first full shift three weeks after being an Alpha.”

“Vulnerability and acceptance? What does that even mean?”

Laura shrugged. “I’m not really sure but vulnerability in an Alpha. That’s rare. That’s why less than a handful can turn into a wolf.”

“Mom could.” Derek reminisced, remembering the white rings of fur around her eyes.

“Yeah. So keep that in mind when you get scared of showing a little of vulnerability. It’s good to release those emotions once in a while.”

“Can you still turn into a wolf?”

Laura gave a small little huff of laughter. “No.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You need to stop taking the blame for things that aren’t your fault, Derek. I don’t want to hear you blaming yourself for Isaac’s father. That was all Deucalion and his gang. Not you.”

“I’m just so you used to it, you know.” Derek whispered, shocked that he was revealing this information.

“I know.”

Derek gave a small gasp. “You blame yourself for our family?”

“Yeah, sometimes I tell myself, if I had just kept a closer eye on you after you know who died, this wouldn’t have happened. But I was a teenager, I only cared about myself. But enough of that, I’m working hard to remind myself that it’s not my fault. It’s no one’s but the Argents. Remember that.”

Derek nodded furiously, placing the words safely in his memory.  

“Now, let’s head back inside.” Laura stood up, shaking the grass off her pajamas.

“I think I’m going to stay here for a few more minutes.”

“Ok. See you tomorrow.”

The following two weeks were filled with everyone tiptoeing around Isaac. They had tried to approach him but he would go into his mood swings that often ended in violence. Derek feared for the full moon on whether they would have to start all over with Isaac’s training. But surprisingly, Isaac was ok. Even more so, he was in more control than ever before. He was collected and hadn’t even undergone a full moon transformation that Boyd and Erica still had difficulty controlling on their worse days. After the full moon, somehow everything went back to normal.

It happened when they went to Diagon Alley to collect their school supplies. Isaac had been in Flourish and Blotts and from one moment to the next he was laughing as he had overheard two elderly witches conversing about the side effects of sticking an eye of newt in your nose. And it wasn’t a forced laughter either like Derek knew came from Isaac’s manic state, it was genuinely happy.

No one questioned what happened to Isaac and if Derek looked at the fifth year closely. Isaac hadn’t known what happened either. He still had the strain in his eyes from years of abuse that Derek knew were never going to go away, and the longing in his eyes that his last family member was gone, but it was overshadowed by mirth. Derek deeply admired Isaac for that. He bounced back so quickly, not completely where he pretended it never happened, but rather, taking every single hard experience in his short life and growing from it. It just made Derek appreciate, Isaac’s heart and strength.

All his Betas were that way. Strong-willed, strong-minded, and strong-hearted. It was almost as if Derek had his family back again. And this time, Derek was going to make sure nothing happened to it.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter but I wanted to post something because I won't be posting for a while. 
> 
> Tell me what you thought of the chapter. Comment and critique, I don't mind reviews are my favorite. 
> 
> Also next chapter will most definitely be fifth year and we finally get to meet Allison.
> 
> [My Tumblr](twinklingpaopufruit.tumblr.com)


	20. The New Players on the Board

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The start of fifth year brings more complications than the pack thought would be possible.

Stiles boarded the Hogwarts Express with his best friend Scott after they finished hugging their parents. They knew what they had to do before the term ended, they just hoped that it wouldn’t end in them dying. Stiles tried to be unrealistically optimistic that all of this would blow over and he would just focus on OWLs and pranks this year, but he knew that would never happen.

Stiles walked down the corridor, looking for an empty compartment. But as boarded onto a new train carriage, he stopped when he saw _them_.

A group of four in leather jackets, emerged in two neat rows down the corridor. Derek was walking up front with Boyd as he listened to Erica who was hanging off Boyd’s back. Isaac took the rear strutting with unmistakable confidence.

Stiles showed Scott his gape expression only to be mirrored by his friend.  

Stiles saw Erica pause in speech, sniff the air, and then release a wide toothed smirk. She jumped off Boyd’s back and slithered like a viper in Stiles’ and Scott’s direction. “Hi Scott.” She turned her large brown eyes on Stiles. “ _Hey Batman_ ,” Erica smirked, biting her lip coyly and shoving Stiles against one of the compartments. Stiles stuttered as he took in Erica’s appearance.

Denying that Erica looked different from last year, would win the blind man award. Instead of her messy blonde hair, it was in pretty curls falling on her shoulders. She wore makeup that made her eyes look bigger and her lips fuller. She wore a low white cut crop and leather skirt that fell midway to her thigh. _And oh Merlin that was short._

“Erica?” Stiles gaped like a grindylow out of its element.

“Yes?”

“Uh...You wow-what um,” Stiles couldn’t find his words. He looked to Scott, but he was in just as much as disbelief as him.

Stiles turned to Derek and the others as they were still making their way down the walkway. Stiles noticed though that several people were peeking out of their compartment doors and looking at Erica unashamedly.

His attention fell back to Erica when she yanked his wrist, he felt his bone crack from the strain. “You’re still wearing the watch.”

“Yeah, I like it. Scott made me watch all the Batman movies this summer too.”

Erica beamed. “ _Really?_ Oh, then we have a lot to talk about then,” She leaned forward, and Stiles found himself leaning away.

“Erica.” Derek reprimanded her, as they finally reached them.

Erica rolled her eyes and took a step back. She gave Stiles a small amused smile and pretended to listen to her Alpha.

“So you guys good?” Scott asked, looking at Isaac.

“Perfect.” Isaac said.

“We’ll talk about this later,” Derek interrupted. “We need to go to the prefect carriage.”

“You’re a prefect?” Scott congratulated. “Congrats Boyd! Where’s Cora?”

“She’s one too. She’s already at the carriage.” Boyd answered.

“Ah man, how is that fair!” Stiles whined. “How did she get it?!”

Derek’s brow rose into disbelief at such an idiotic question. “Do you really want to know?”

“What does that mean?”

“You figure it out. Let’s go.” Derek said to Boyd. The two walked off in the opposite direction, leaving Isaac and Erica alone with Scott and Stiles. Immediately, Erica latched onto Stiles’ arm. “Come on, let’s go find a compartment.” Stiles yelped when he felt her claws dig through his sleeves.

“Hey! Watch it!”

Erica ignored him in favor of treating him like a rag doll.

Stiles couldn’t help but notice that that a lot of people stared back at Erica and him with great interest and several people nudged their neighbors and pointed them out. Apparently, everyone was staring at Erica. She was going to become the center of attention the second they reached Hogwarts. He wondered briefly if people now staring at him thought he and Erica were together with the way she kept smirking at pulling him down the corridor.

In the last carriage, they found an empty compartment. When they went inside, Isaac went to the window and pushed the top open. “Sorry, you still stink.” Isaac commented, dryly.

Stiles made a face as they all sat down.

“Had a good summer, Isaac?” Scott asked genuinely.

“Some of it.” He answered.

Stiles felt Erica stiffen and look at Isaac with worry.

“But it was pretty good. We hung out with Derek and his sisters. Went shopping, got kicked out a few restaurants because Erica threaten to make somebody eat their dick multiple times.”

“Once.” Erica added. “Cora did it more than I did.”

Stiles and Scott laughed. “Wait you hung out with Derek? How was that?” Stiles asked, already forming different scenarios in his head.

Erica and Isaac gave each other twin looks. “He’s broody and gloomy, but he’s alright.” Isaac said. “He took us out running and trained us pretty well. We’re practically werewolf pros.”

“Yup full control and everything.”

“Anchors then?” Scott asked.

Erica nodded, and put her feet on Isaac’s lap. He pushed her legs off, but after a flash of yellow eyes, he groaned and lifted her legs to set them on his lap. Erica got more comfortable.

“How was your summer, Stiles?” Erica asked.

“Awesome. Watched a lot of muggle movies at Scott’s house. We played Quidditch in my backyard.”

“Quidditch in your backyard?” Isaac narrowed his eyes.

“Yeah!” Scott added. “Stiles’ home is huge and he has a backyard about half the size of the Quidditch pitch at Hogwarts.

Erica and Isaac turned to him indecorously. “You’re kidding.” Isaac glared.

“My dad is a pureblood.” Stiles said sheepishly, pulling out his wand and twirling it in between his fingers with practice.

“Maybe, I should have gone to your home for the summer then.” Erica said coyly. “Isaac and I are thinking of trying out for the team this year.”

“Really? What position?” Scott questioned, excitedly.

Isaac shrugged. “Haven’t decided. There’s a beater and chaser position open this year. Maybe I’ll try out for both. See which one I get.”

“I’m trying out for seeker,” Erica grinned. “At least to give Hufflepuff a fighting chance against Cora.”

“Dude if you guys do that, then Slytherin will really be in third place this year.” Stiles groaned.

“Maybe, I should place another bet with Cora then.” Scott smiled.

Stiles kicked his friend’s shin. “Shut up, and Cora’s smarter. She’ll probably have you dress up as a goblin this time.”

Scott kicked his shin.

 

About an hour and half passed, in which all four them bought tons of treats from the trolley. In between choosing from the stack of treats, Boyd, Derek, and Cora returned. Everyone elbowed each other in the ribs or face as they settled into comfortable positions on the cushions. After Isaac’s knobby knee hit Stiles in the diaphragm, Stiles declared he was going to sit on the floor. After that, everyone finally calmed down.

“I can’t believe, Jackson Whittemore is a freaking perfect. What the hell was Deaton thinking!” Cora grumbled from her seat as she picked at the strawberry chocolate frog Scott had picked out for her. She handed her card to Boyd who grinned when it was a card he was missing from his collection.

Stiles groaned as he pulled at his licorice wand viciously. It snapped back at him. “Ugh, great the bastard is going to abuse his power isn’t he? Who else is prefect?”

Cora wrinkled her nose. “For Slytherin, it’s Jackson and Malia Tate. Hufflepuff, Boyd of course and Jessica Bartlett. Ravenclaw its Greenberg and _Lydia Martin_.” She said condescendingly.

“Of course my beautiful Lydia would be a prefect. She’s talented and smart and—” Stiles beamed with cheer.

“—And if you don’t shut up, I’m gonna stick my chocolate frog up your snatch.” Cora threatened before continuing. “And then Ethan is the other Gryffindor prefect.”

They settled into a comfortable conversation again after that, but the prefects again had to leave to do patrols. Stiles cleaned the compartment from all the wrappers the group had left scattered across the cushions before he sat down in his seat. They resumed talking but the sugary treats in their system finally made them crash. They awoke when the train whistled, signaling their arrival.

The four hopped off the train and began to head to the stagecoaches. Stiles noticed immediately when Erica and Isaac stopped at one of the carriages. He didn’t have to follow their line of sight to know what they saw, but the question was why could they see them now?”

“They’re thestrals.” Stiles answered without being asked. They both turned to him with shocked eyes. “You can see them if you have seen someone die.”

Stiles watched the recognition filter on their faces. “Why can you guys see them?”

“Stiles.” Scott reprimanded. Stiles understood his friend. It wasn’t the time. They boarded the carriages without further ado. They figured, that the others would board another one.

They finally reached the Great Hall and they all separated into their respective houses. Stiles did not want to sit away from Scott, but Professor Blake had reprimanded him already that he should sit with his house for special occasions. He sat down next to Danny and gave him a kind smile. When Jackson sat by them, he displayed his prefect with arrogance.

“Jealous Stilinski?” Jackson grinned.

“Yeah, Jackson. I’m foaming at the mouth with it.” Stiles said bluntly.

They turned to the front of the Great Hall as the Sorting Hat sang its usual song and then Morrell followed to sort the new first years. When they thought that dinner would then presume, Deaton stood up and walked to the owl podium.

“Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. I’m sorry for delaying your feast, but I have a few announcements. As always, the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds and the Whomping Willow is not to be approached. But more importantly I would like to announce a new change in our staffing this year.”

Everyone watched as the door beside the staff table open and two figures emerged. “Please welcome Chris Argent our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and his daughter Allison Argent from Beauxbatons who will be joining the fifth years.”

Stiles watched as Chris took his seat with the staff and Allison walk to Morrell. The girl was beautiful. Long chestnut hair that cascaded down her shoulder, a shy sweet embarrassed smile with the hint of protruding dimples, and a long sylph body, stood at the front of the Great Hall. She looked familiar, some part of Stiles’ unconscious recognized, but he couldn’t place her.

Morrell guided the young girl to sit on the small stool. The Sorting Hat placed upon her delicate head. In a short amount of time, the hat shouted. “GRYFFINDOR!” The girl smiled and went over to the table, where Stiles noticed she sat in the empty space beside Scott. Scott turned beet red and looked at her with an enamored look. Stiles snorted. Typical Scott. Before turning to his own table, he noticed Cora. Her eyes shook but pierced the new student. She wasn’t even trying to hide her displeasure. Why was she…?

He barely noticed food had appeared on the table as he looked to the Hufflepuff tables for perhaps an answer. And there he found it. Because Derek Hale had his jaw clenched and eyebrows drawn so low, he could practically form a line. But there was no mistaking that the girl’s presence was something to be wary of. This was not good.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Cora stomped her way toward the Gryffindor tower with Ethan by her side as they guided the new first years. Ethan did all of the talking. She couldn’t even tell something was amiss right beside her because she was filled with uncontrollable rage. It took all her concentration to not shift in front of the new students. And oh, wouldn’t that be a tale to tell.

After informing the students the new password and Ethan giving sincere words to come to them for help, Cora was finally left to her own devices. She decided to confront the problem head on.

She marched up the stairs.

She didn’t like this one bit. What the hell was Deaton thinking, hiring an Argent? Placing an Argent inside Hogwarts when there were so many werewolves. She shoved the door open. Her other roommates, Danielle Rhodes and Heather Merlot, greeted her, but behind them, Cora saw Allison Argent. Cora bit her tongue to stop from growling. She went over to her bed and spoke distractedly to Danielle until it was late.

The girls got ready for bed and when Danielle and Heather drew their bed curtains, Cora finally gave Allison the time of day. She was braiding her hair, cross-legged on the bed. Every time Allison shifted, Cora felt unnerved. She felt vulnerable and she didn’t like it. She wanted to rip the girl apart literally, but she couldn’t do that. Thoughts flooded her. The main one being ‘what if the hunter attacked?’

Her throat was dry and her heart felt like it was going to explode. She stayed frozen in place for several minutes, unable to think of anything to say. The pent up energy eventually became too much and she abruptly pulled out her wand.

Allison turned to her immediately, pulling her wand out as well with quick reflexes.

“ _Silencio!_ ” Cora whispered, casting the charm around their two beds that were right next to each other.

Allison watched her carefully and calculating. Just like the eyes of a hunter.

Cora wanted to ask so many questions, especially about the night where Allison’s grandfather and aunt killed her family. Part of Cora wanted to see if Allison felt bad about it, and the other part wanted to make her feel bad about it.

“Alright now talk.”

“What?” Allison asked.

“Talk.”

“About what?”

“You.”

“Uh, ok? What about me?” Allison smiled awkwardly.

Cora furrowed her brows, not lowering her wand. “Are you happy?”

“What does that have to with anything?”

“Just answer the question, Argent.”

“Yes, I’m happy,” Allison stated with a forced smile.

“Are you really? You can really be happy knowing honestly what your family has done!”

“That was not me!” Allison shouted angrily. “Don’t judge me for what my family did. You know nothing about me!”

“I know a lot about you; the things you’ve done, the werewolves you’ve killed, what about the Simone pack in France?”

“I haven’t killed anyone. And the Simone pack wasn’t me. I would have never killed them, it would have been against the code.”

Cora scowled. “Don’t throw your code around like it means something. I just can’t believe you would kill them. I bet they did nothing wrong. Just like your family attacked mine!”

“My father is nothing like Gerard.” Allison spat.

“Whatever, believe what you want, that’s fine. But I want you to understand the extent and the damage your family did to mine.” Cora growled. She was angry. Furious, in fact, though she doubted Allison could see it. She wanted to get past the trauma she experienced all those years ago, but she also wanted to French girl to hurt. She wanted to make her upset, to bring her down to the level she had been reduced to.  “You killed nearly everyone in my family and I am not going to let you do that. Cause I know hunters. You are all the same. Petty and dishonest, power-hungry leeches!”

Allison clutched her wand and in a final act of desperation, left the dormitory.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Scott had not noticed it before in the Great Hall where he felt already the presence of other werewolves, but when he finally retired to his room with his friends, an unfamiliar scent invaded his nostrils. Scott stopped as soon as the dormitory door pulled open. Ethan had returned from touring first years around, and apparently Ethan had been too busy to notice earlier as well. The two eyed each other up and down for a long moment. Thankfully the other boys in the dorm were taking a shower so Scott could pull Ethan close.

“Dude!” Scott shouted as much as one could in a whisper.

“Since when have you been a werewolf?” Ethan retorted.

“Since when have you?”

“Did Deucalion bite you too?”

“Deucalion?”

“Yeah. Deucalion bit my brother and I about three weeks ago. He attacked our wizard village, but he’s good. Not anything like the _Daily Prophet_ say about him.”

“Wait what? Backtrack. What do you mean he’s good?”

“He took care of my brother and I for the entire summer. Gave us a room, fed us, took us to bond. He’s a good man more than my foster parents.”

“I’m sorry, but—I just, I’m a bit confused.”

Ethan leaned close and sniffed Scott. “You don’t smell like pack. Who bit you? Kali? Ennis? I like Kali, she’s funny. And she makes awesome Indian food.”

Scott’s eyes twitched. “I’m gonna go. I forgot to um give Stiles something—tell him something—I’ll be back.”

Ethan furrowed his brows. “Ok?”

Scott stood up and rushed out of the boys’ dormitory. This was not good. This was not good at all. Was Ethan on Deucalion’s side. Was Ethan a spy? This changed everything.

Scott began to run down the stairs but stopped when he heard a small whimper come from the fireplace. He turned around and saw the new girl Allison Argent, sitting by the dimly lit fireplace. He looked around the common room but no was around. He approached slowly and tapped her shoulder gently. “Allison?”

The girl jumped up and wiped her eyes. “Sorry um...yeah um Scott was it?”

Scott nodded. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I just miss home.”

Scott heard a stutter in her heartbeat. Why would she lie? “Were the girls mean to you?”

“No.” Another stutter, but Scott didn’t want to pry. “I just miss home. Hogwarts is different.”

“Classes haven’t even started yet. You can’t make a judgment from a day.” Scott smiled, sitting beside her.

“Yeah, you’re right. But it is different. Beubaxtons is like a palace filled with so many lights and beautiful crystals and marble. Hogwarts is...”

“—Bleak.”

Allison laughed and Scott really liked the sound of that. “Yeah.”

“I promise Hogwarts is one hundred percent awesome.”

“Really? How so?”

“Well the professors are cool, except Harris. Avoid Harris.”

“What does he teach?”

“Potions.”

“I love potions.”

Scott made a face. “Really?”

Allison wiped her face one last time. “Yeah. It’s my second favorite subject.”

“What’s your first?”

“Defense.”

“Me too!” Scott exclaimed. “How’s your dad as a teacher?”

“Um I’m not really sure. He didn’t teach in France but he did teach me other things at home and he was a bit strict to follow all the rules. But he really knows his stuff. He’s good.”

“Awesome. I’m excited now.” Scott smiled, looking into the fireplace.

Unbeknownst to him, the flame made his eyes glow an unnatural flickering gold.

Allison watched the eye change carefully. After a while, she turned to him and bit her lip. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Scott smiled at her.

She smiled back. “I’m sorry for crying. I’m pretty sure consoling French girls wasn’t on your list back to school.”

“It’s ok to cry. I cry, I cry a lot.” Scott teased.

Allison lightly punched him. He rubbed the side of his arm, mocking pain. “You’re different.” Allison said softly.

“Compared to what?”

She shrugged and knocked her shoulder against him. “Everything I was told.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Yeah, a really good thing.”

Scott felt his face flush and was glad that the warmth from the fireplace was probably covering most of it up. He began to forget why he had come down in the first place in such a state of distress but as he talked more with Allison he felt the anxiety begin to dissipate and replace with relief and a sense of being grounded. He enjoyed it and talked with Allison well into the night. When they finally departed, he realized that Allison was not willing to go back to her room and he did not know how he felt about that. But he knew he wanted to keep her safe. So he gave her a warm hug that she returned and they finally went to bed.

 

|~~***~~|

 

The first day of classes landed on a Wednesday and he was grateful when he got his schedule that he had a free period early morning. He waited in the common room for Allison to emerge, but he saw Cora come out first with two small boxes.

“Cora!” Scott greeted.

Cora smiled and walked toward him, grabbing her schedule where Finstock was handing them out. “Ugh this schedule is packed.” She commented. “When Derek said fifth year was hard, you know I didn’t really believe him. He’s kind of a drama queen. But anyway I got you and Stiles something—”

Scott was momentarily distracted as he saw Allison come down the stairs. “Allison!”

Cora froze beside him and without saying anything, left the Gryffindor tower. “Cora? Where are you going?” Scott asked. But the girl continued walking, without looking back.

He became distracted as Allison appeared next to him. She asked Finstock for her schedule. Scott peered over her shoulder. “You’re taking Arithmancy?” He asked.

“Why are you intimidated?” She teased.

“Completely.” Scott teased back.

She turned back to her schedule. “My dad is making me take it. It was either this or Divination and well you know how that class is.” She said.

“Yeah. Do you want to go get breakfast together?”

“Sure.” She smiled.

Scott beamed back but began to scowl when he heard Ethan and Bennett cat call behind him. He turned red and walked out of the portrait with Allison. When they approached the Great Hall, Scott was nearly tackled to the ground by Stiles.

“Scott, we need to talk now.” Stiles said, trying to pull him away from Allison. His flailing limbs hitting Scott multiple times.

“Stiles! Wait. Uh I want to introduce you to Allison.”

Stiles waved. “Hey Allison. I’m Stiles, Scott’s fantastic best friend and secret blood brother or you can just call me what everyone else does, The Stilinsker, cause I’m the best pranker at Hogwarts.”

“Nobody calls you that.” Scott retorted.

“Of course they do. But I would love to stay and chat but I need to borrow Scott like yesterday.”

“Ok.” Allison laughed, taken back by the whirlwind which was Stiles.

“Great!”

Scott let his friend drag him to the empty classroom in the first floor.

“Ok what?” Scott asked.

“Aiden is a fucking werewolf!”

“I know.”

“You—you know. And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I found out last night that Ethan was one. How did you find out?”

“Aiden kept saying I smelt weird all last night. And who do I smell weird to?”

“Werewolves.”

“Exactly.”

They heard the bell ring signaling first period, but both ignored it.

“I talked to Ethan and he said that Deucalion bit him a few weeks ago.”

“Shit, this is bad. We need to tell Derek.”

“I doubt the twins will do anything. I mean we’re in Hogwarts and Ethan seemed to be in full control and everything.”

“What if they are working for Deucalion?”

“I was thinking that too but why would they work for him. Wouldn’t Deucalion just use them as a sacrifice?”

“That’s worse Scott. As much as I wish that I could hurt Aiden. I don’t want him to be a sacrifice for Deucalion.”

“Ok I’ll keep an open eye then.”

“Cool, well I’ll just let you keep flirting with the hot French girl. Nice job by the way, and I’m gonna go to class, which I’m probably already late.”

 

|~~***~~|

 

Stiles entered the History of Magic Classroom in a fumble of limbs. The professor sighed. Stiles sat down between Erica and Isaac in the back of the classroom. He pulled out his books, as the professor began to talk about how this year was especially important and blah blah blah. Stiles could hardly care. He had more important things to worry about. He began jotting down notes in his notebook of the plan _Operation Don’t Die on the Lunar Eclipse While We Face Three Alphas and Fifty Uncontrollable Werewolves_ and wow he needed to shorten that or find a fun acronym.

He added, Ethan and Aiden to the list of new problems to deal with.

“Erica,” Stiles whispered. “I need you to pass a message to your almightiness.”

“We know.” Boyd said beside Erica. “Derek and I found out while doing patrols on the train last night.”

“Ok cool.” Stiles said, feeling slightly relieved. At least this saved the trouble explaining to Derek, who most likely was going to tell Deaton and Morrell on his own.

“We have a bigger problem.” Erica whispered.

“What can be bigger than two new werewolves in Hogwarts?”

“The Argents, they’re hunters.”

“WHAT?” Stiles hollered.

The professor glared at him and told Stiles to quiet down. Stiles awkwardly apologized. He felt a nudge to his shoulder and saw Isaac sliding an empty piece of parchment. Stiles got the message.

_What do you mean they’re FREAKING HUNTERS!!!!!_

Erica took the paper and began to write.  _Derek was throwing a fit last night when he found out the Argents were here. Apparently the Argents, were the ones who killed Derek’s family. You should have seen him. We had to take him out of the dorms. He was especially worried about Cora. She’s the one who has to share the room with the hunter._

She handed the note back to him. This was not good.  _Shit. Scott was hanging out with Allison. What if she knows? What if they are here to kill us?_

He handed the paper back to her, but Boyd took it. He scribbled quickly and handed it back to Stiles. _Derek was thinking he is here because of the entire Deucalion situation and that Deaton hired him to deal with it. Deaton is NOT happy with Derek’s plan. We think Deaton doesn’t want Derek involved with this at all._

Stiles wrote back. _But why? I thought Deaton was the Hale emissary._

Erica grabbed the paper. _He’s an asshat. Thinks we won’t be successful._

“Please stop passing notes in the back of the classroom and please pay attention!” The professor reprimanded.

The four stopped passing the parchment. Isaac stuffed it under his History book. Stiles and the others tried their best to listen to something about giant wars but nobody really paid attention—except Boyd. Boyd loved History.  

 

|~~***~~|

 

Scott and the other fifth year Gryffindors entered the Defense classroom with the Ravenclaws. The fifth year girls were looking forward to Professor Argent’s first lesson so much that they arrived early before the first bell even rang.

Scott was excited as well so he took the first desk in front of the teacher’s desk and took out his copy of his DADA book.

“Do we have to sit up front?” Allison groaned beside Scott.

“Yeah, I love Defense. I thought you did too?”

“Well..I’m not exactly looking forward to being taught by my dad, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh sorry, well we can sit somewhere else if you want.” Scott turned around to look for another pair of seats. He became distracted when a petite figure took the empty seat on Allison’s left.

“Hello?” Allison asked with a kind, awkward smile.

“Hello. My name is Lydia Martin.” The strawberry blonde stuck her hand out and Allison kindly shook it. Scott looked around the classroom. It couldn’t be real. Lydia Martin was sharing the same desk as them. Oh if Stiles could see him now…

“So you’re from Beauxbatons? That must have been rivetting. You must tell me all about it.”

Allison looked over her shoulder to Scott and he urged her on. “It was. I wouldn’t mind.”

“Great, lunch then? You’re welcome to come by the Ravenclaw table.”

Allison agreed right as Christ Argent entered the room. His boots knocked against the marble floor causing an impending aura to surround him. His robes were all black and grey made of clean cut fine material causing many of the girls to sigh. Scott chuckled as Allison snorted and rolled her eyes.

He took out the register and began to call out names, his blue eyes memorizing every name to face diligently. When the last name was called, he walked across his desk, and leaned against it. “Right then, according to Deaton, you students are behind on both dark creatures and curses.”

There was a general murmur of agreement.

“So  I’m here to bring you up to what you will be learning for the rest of your Hogwarts years.”

“Rest?” Lydia Martin blurted. “You’re staying? For good?”

“Yes.”

Several girls squealed. The noise went over Argent’s head. “If all goes well. I will be teaching at Hogwarts until I retire.”

Scott was automatically excited as well. No more pointless review from last year, it was going to be freaking amazing.

“Ok well right to it then. This will be your OWLs year so we have a lot to catch up on to make sure each of you pass. So I want everyone to put your books away and stand up.”

Everyone glanced to each other but did as they were told. They moved to the side of the classroom as Argent vanished the desk and began to walk steadily to the center of the room. “All right, how many of you are familiar with dueling?”

Several students raised their hands, including Scott and Allison. Argent raised a brow. “I was informed by your past professors that you never got to dueling.”

Lydia Martin spoke again. “I began a Dueling Club at school two years ago. Many of us felt that Defense was being incompetent.”

“How far did you get?”

Lydia huffed in resignation. “Not far.”

“Who's the best?” Argent asked.

Scott turned a beet red when everyone looked to him. He wasn’t often put on the spot unless it was for Quidditch and for it to be in classroom setting made him feel uncomfortable.

“Mr. McCall, may you please volunteer to duel?”  Scott nodded and walked to Argent. He really didn’t have a choice anyway. “Allison, may you?”

Allison sighed, but pulled her wand out. “I want everyone to look at Allison. Her form, her spells, and curses. You will be learning them this year. Mr. McCall, I don’t expect you to keep up with my daughter but please try your best.”

“Yes, Professor.”

Argent motioned for everyone to edge against the wall and set protective barriers around them.

Scott and Allison faced each other prepared to duel. “I’ll go easy on you,” Allison said, tongue in cheek.

Scott grinned. “Same.”

Allison raised a curious brow but turned around to continue the duel.

They assumed positions on opposite sides of the classroom.

Argent called the time and the two began.

Allison was the first. “ _Expelliarmus!_ ”

Scott saw the familiar spell. “ _Protego! Stupefy!_ ”

Allison cartwheeled out of the way and in between the flip, shot a stunning spell upside down. Several people clapped at Allison’s display and Scott was impressed beyond measure. Scott was not quick enough for the stunning curse so he leaned back, the spell skimming an inch over his face. He shot back up and several people clapped.

“ _Petrificus Totalus!_ ” Scott shouted.

Allison blocked the spell, and sent two stunning charms quickly. Scott blocked each one, taking a step forward, closer to Allison on each block. She didn’t back down. She stepped closer as well until the two were only five feet apart shooting spells and blocking in quick succession.

Scott grinned and called a bit on his werewolf side to block a disarming charm and appear behind Allison. “ _Expelliarmus!_ ”

Allison ducked quickly and before Scott knew it, Allison swiped her legs underneath him and disarmed him as he was on the ground.

“Allison.” Argent called, putting down the barriers.

Both Allison and Scott were panting profusely, when Argent turned a reprimanding eye on his daughter. “Please keep physical confrontations to personal training.” Allison nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Mr. McCall.” Scott stood up straight. “Excellent job. Allison, it seems like you’ve finally found a competent adversary. I want you both sparring together for the rest of the term.” Both nodded, smiling cheekily to each other.

“Alright students, gather round. The duel between Mr. McCall and my daughter is what I expect of you by the end of this semester. We will be practicing the disarming spell this week and the stunning charm for the following. Get in pairs please.”

The students nodded and made two rows facing each other. “Begin.”

Scott and Allison were pulled aside to help Argent correct other students’ posture as they cast the disarming spell. As Scott corrected Kara Simmons form, he turned to Allison across the room. She bit her lip and shyly looked away. Scott beamed and commenced correcting other students for the rest of the class period.

 

|~~***~~|

 

When the bell signaled, lunch, Stiles was growing more fidgety as he saw the Gryffindors slowly filling the Gryffindor table. His hands drummed against the strap of his bag as he waited at the entrance. He needed to tell Scott immediately what Allison was. Except, he couldn’t find his friend _anywhere_. He slightly regretted not joining Erica’s invitation to sit with them at the Hufflepuff table. The distraction of watching a bunch of Hufflepuffs freak out over a Slytherin sitting with them would have slightly calmed down Stiles, instead of him panicking that Allison was luring Scott into some trap.

After bouncing his leg insistently, he finally saw Scott walking toward the Great Hall with Allison in tow and Lydia freaking Martin. Stiles was shocked by Scott’s entourage but quelled his feelings for the Ravenclaw to look at Allison. Allison looked friendly enough and she sure played the innocent look with her charming smile and bright brown eyes, but Stiles had a feeling that was what made her dangerous. But as he watched her laugh with Scott and giggle at something Lydia said, Stiles began to question himself and something else replaced the panic in him with immediate worry.

He realized Cora was not with Scott. Ever since the fourth year winter break, Cora had been inseparable with Scott, and her not with him was raising alarm bells.

“Stiles, right?” Allison asked sweetly as the three finally reached him.

Stiles ignored her question and turned to Scott who wasn’t even paying attention to him. His entire focus was on Allison. “Scott. Where’s Cora?” Scott kept staring like a lovesick puppy in Allison’s direction. “Scott! Where is Cora?!”

Scott snapped out of his trance and looked to him in confusion. “I don’t know, she wasn’t even in classes today.”

“What do you mean?”

“I saw her in the morning when we got our schedules, but I haven’t seen her after that. Why?”

 _Cause the hot new French girl might have killed her_ , wanted to roll off Stiles’ tongue, but he held back. “I’ll tell you later. Like we really need to talk, just keep your eyes open and don’t trust anything you hear. Ok?” He met Lydia’s gaze and she looked at him with confusion and interest. The Ravenclaw looked to Allison and then back to Stiles with realization, and Stiles did not have the time to ponder what that meant at the moment.“I’m going to go look for Cora. I’ll see you later.” Stiles immediately took off. He thought of heading to the Gryffindor Tower first. He figured he could always manipulate some first year to give him the password, but as he headed up the stairs he looked down one corridor and saw the sixth year students exit the DADA room. He saw blues and yellows, and Stiles made up his mind to go look for Derek.

He reached down the corridor and saw that Derek was not with the Hufflepuff group. Stiles walked to see if Derek stayed in the room and he paused when he heard muffled voices.

“Why did Deaton hire you?” That was definitely Derek and Stiles noted that he had never heard him sound so spiteful before.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what.”

“He brought me to teach. I don’t care for your full moon affairs, Mr. Hale.”

“You’re lying, why would a hunter want to become a teacher?”

“I have quit being a hunter.”

“Lies. I can smell the wolfsbane around your neck.”

“This? It’s a family crest, I will not abandon such a sacred artifact. But yes, my family has taken a leave of absence from the line of work. Not everyone was following the code so I decided to leave.”

“You sure you left? I heard it was your doing who killed the Simone pack in France.”

“That was not me personally. My wife—she took care of that and that is the end of that story. I was not pleased how she handled it and took my daughter out of the hunting business. We are blood free.”

“I still don’t believe you. You’re here for a reason and I’m going to figure out what.”

Stiles heard footsteps.

“You know me Derek. I follow the code: we protect those who cannot protect themselves.”

“That’s not the code—”

“I have been following that code since my sister and father killed your family. My daughter heard of the news and she had said we should protect others and for that I decided to betray my family and go on trial to protect yours. So know this, Derek. I am here to teach and protect.”

“I still don’t believe you. You’re hiding something, so until you can prove yourself of being good or bringing back my dead family, I’m never going to trust anything that comes out of an Argent’s mouth ever again.”

Stiles heard footsteps approach the door. The door was pushed open all the way and Stiles nearly fell back. Derek caught him from the back of his collar and dragged him down the corridor into an empty hallway. He threw him against the wall.

“It’s rude to spy on people.” Derek snarled.

“We’re going to talk about rudeness? You keep slamming me against the entire freaking castle.” Stiles retorted as he was backed into the wall, their chests touching.

“Forget what you heard.”

“No, that’s just it, what I wanted to talk to you about. Cora’s missing.” Derek’s eyes opened wide. “Scott hasn’t seen her.” Stiles added. He pushed off the wall when Derek took about three steps back. “Derek?” Stiles questioned with worry, when Derek stomped down the corridor. Stiles pulled his bag strap over his shoulder chasing after Derek. Oh Merlin help him, he was now following werewolves like a freaking puppy. “Do you know where she is?”

“No.” Derek sternly said.

“So where are we going...oh right scent. C’mon boy. Sorry bad pun.”

Derek sent a quick glare over his shoulder. “She’s not in the castle.” Derek finally said.

“Where is she?”

“I don’t know, c’mon.”

Stiles had to lightly jog to keep up with Derek’s long strides until they were by the Black Lake. Both of them pushed through the trees until finally they saw Cora sitting against a whomping willow that wasn’t trying to kill someone. They both sighed in relief. Stiles jogged past Derek to the Gryffindor girl.

“Cora?”

“Are they still here?” Cora questioned, as she flipped through the book she was reading. It reminded Stiles of their first meeting. He didn’t have to question though who Cora was talking about.

“Yeah…”

She slammed her book shut and turned to the boys. “You have no idea how much I hate Deaton for bringing them here. They aren’t supposed to be here.”

Stiles sat beside Cora. He cringed when he felt he had sat on wet mud, but continued on, while Derek awkwardly hovered over them. “Deaton is an asshat.” Stiles settled with saying.

“I see you were talking to Erica.” Cora said.

“Yeah, she was angry too. But I get it. You have every right to be angry at Deaton for bringing the Argents here. I don’t know what the hell he’s thinking bringing them here but he has to have a reason right? He’s your emissary. Isn’t he supposed to protect you?”

Cora bit her lip. “How is this protection? The Argents murdered our family.”

Stiles looked to Derek. The elder Hale was looking across the Black Lake as if he was recalling something better left forgotten. Stiles wanted to ask so desperately what had happened. The only information he knew was from the Daily Prophet. Kate and Gerard Argent had burned the Hale Manor to the ground and that was as far as it went. His father also refused to tell him saying it was too dark for children ears and that really only served to spike Stiles’ curiosity. He knew it would be tactless to ask them to remember such a horrible night, but since when had Stiles ever held tact as an important issue.

“What happened that night?”

Cora looked to him. Her eyes were watery and Stiles was taken by surprise. Cora always seemed so strong. Cora stole a glance at Derek but Derek still kept looking off into the distance.

“The Argents somehow snuck through the wards of the manor.” Cora began. Stiles flinched at her voice. He hadn’t realized he had been staring at Derek for such a long time. “It was the night of the lunar eclipse and our family always came together during that time. Our werewolf powers are restrained during those few minutes and so is our magic. All of us were in the living room, my mother and father, my uncles, aunts, cousins, my grandparents. We were playing board games believe it or not when the Argents barged into our house. The Argents cast mountain ash around us.”

Cora took a long pause. “Those who were only wizards in our family tried to break the mountain ash but the Argents knocked them out. Our family was already weakened by the lunar eclipse so we couldn’t fight back when they disarmed anyone who had a wand. They cast an _Imperius_ on Uncle Peter and had him attack his husband.  And then they cast a _Cruciatus_ on our Aunt Cersei and our dad and our cousin Daryl. The Argents said they would remove the unforgivables if we did everything they said, so our mom agreed. They lead us to the basement of our home and then sealed us in with mountain ash. We didn’t know what they were planning when they left the Manor but it became pretty clear when we could smell wood burning.”

Stiles heart palpitated quickly. “They were using magical fire so everything was burning quickly around us. Uncle Peter tried breaking the floorboards with his bare hands but he couldn’t do anything. No one could. Mom had a magical outburst and was able to keep me safe until the Aurors arrived but they didn’t arrive in time. Fifteen people died in front of me and it took me years to get rid of the burning stench of flesh out of my nose.”

Stiles was brimming with rage when Cora stopped. His hands were trembling fiercely. How could anyone kill a family like that in cold blood? A family that had literally done nothing to deserve it. They had been playing board games for Merlin’s sake, minutes before they had died. They were a freaking normal family. They were most likely picturesque even. He wondered very briefly what the Hales would have been doing if their family hadn’t been killed? How different would Cora and Derek be?

He placed a hand on Cora’s shoulder and she leaned into it.

“Deaton wouldn’t cause your family more pain. You have to trust him, I’m sorry.” Stiles said, tears trickling down his cheeks.

Cora bit her lip. “I know. I don’t want to.”

“I don’t want to either. I’m so sorry.”

Derek turned away from the lake to stare at Stiles’ in disbelief. Stiles caught the older teen’s eyes. He wanted nothing more now to protect these werewolves. At first both of them were just a means to an end to keep Scott and the rest of the wizarding community safe, but now knowing the brutality of hunters—Stiles wanted to add them to the list of people he cared about. It was about time he extended that list. They had been through a lot, that he admired that they weren’t more emotionally stunted than they were now.

Cora fidgeted under his hand that Stiles removed it. He only removed his intense locked gaze with Derek when Cora began searching for something inside her pocket robes.

“Here.”

Stiles saw that she had pulled out a green box. It was tiny just like the one Erica had given him for Christmas. He gave her a final look and opened the box. Inside was a woven green bracelet with a celtic symbol tying it together. It was simple but beautiful.  “What is that sign?”

“It’s our pack symbol.”

Both Derek and Stiles looked at her with shock.

“Thank you.” Stiles smiled, putting the bracelet on beside his Batman watch.

“Don’t think too much into it. Let’s go to class.” Cora sighed, standing to her feet.

Cora and Stiles entered the Charms classroom. Stiles saw Scott sitting already with Allison and he was going to approach them but, Cora grabbed his wrist and pulled him away. The two ended up sitting next to the Slytherins. Scott met his look across from the class, demanding an explanation, but Stiles merely glanced at Cora. She needed him more at the moment.

The Hales needed him more.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Finally got to fifth year! Thank you for all those who are still sticking to this story. Now I am going to say that fifth year will most likely be the longest. This story is split into three arcs and we are still in the first arc and won't end until the holiday break of fifth year. I will also say that we are finally going to be seeing more Sterek interaction! So that's a plus.
> 
> Tell me what you think? Was Cora justified in yelling at Allison? Do you think Scott is acting like an idiot? How did you feel about the Hale backstory? 
> 
> Please review! It makes me write faster!
> 
> And thank for all the kudos and bookmarks and subscribers.


	21. Disagreements, Blood, and Dragon's Breath Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles learns how to read the Moonwalker book, Scott is useless, and they finally get a nice chat with Deaton.

The rest of the week delved into extreme tensions. With the full moon approaching, everyone was on edge, the most being Cora. Throughout the week, she snapped at anyone who tried to approach her and it took much convincing on Stiles’ and Derek’s part to make her go to DADA. She did. But she wasn’t very happy about it.

When the full moon finally came, all of them headed to Morrell’s office. However, as Derek knocked on the door, no one answered.

“Maybe she’s sleeping.” Isaac suggested.

Derek pulled out his wand. “ _Alohomora_.” The door clicked open. All of them shuffled inside, but it was clear that no one was there.

“Where is she?” Scott asked.

“I don’t know.” Derek glanced around the empty barren office.

“What are we going to do? Deaton said he would be gone today and full moon is an hour.” Boyd commented.

Stiles leaned against the doorway. “I guess, I can set the lines. I’m going to need to break into the greenhouse though for some mountain ash.”

No one else had a better plan, so they agreed. The werewolves waited by the Whomping Willow while Stiles snuck into the greenhouses. Erica and Cora had wanted to go with him, but Stiles refused, mentioning the last time he had an accomplice to sneak into the greenhouse, he got verbally assaulted by Professor Morrell. He didn’t want a repeat of that, even if Morrell would find justification in his break-in this time.

It didn’t take long. Stiles wasn’t sure if he was proud that he was able to smuggle things quickly or not. He knew his father most certainly wouldn’t be happy about that, not very surprised sure, but not very happy.

“What do you think Ethan and Aiden are doing?” Boyd asked, after all of them were in the tunnel.

“Aiden isn’t in the Slytherin room. He left about half an hour before I did.” Stiles nearly tripped on his feet. One of the wolves, Stiles’ wasn’t sure which one, helped him to his feet. “I figured he was going to hole up somewhere for the night. Didn’t really care.”

“Can we trust they won’t attack someone?” Erica questioned.

“They have pretty good control.” Cora pushed open the latch to enter the Shrieking Shack. She pulled herself up, helping Stiles get up first. “I did a prefect round with Ethan last night and he didn’t seem out of it once, even when I insulted him.”

“They aren’t our concern.” Derek said bluntly, the last one to enter the abandoned building.

As soon as they entered one of the more spacious rooms, Stiles began to drop the mountain ash at the doorway.  When he finished setting the last line, he froze. He looked to the Hales and wondered if they felt caged by him doing this. Did it remind them of the night their family died? He gulped down the guilt he felt for them and waited outside the barrier until he was positive nobody was going to flip a shit, as he so frankly began putting it.

The full moon rose and Stiles could feel his pendant warm against his chest. He was about to prepare for his usual bout of calming down Scott first, but when he turned to his best friend, he was perfectly calm. Stiles’ eyes scrunched. “What the hell,” Stiles stepped inside. Safety, be damned. Everyone seemed fidgety under the moon but none of them were shifting, which was as safe as it was going to get.

“What?” Scott questioned, eyes averting as if he had something to hide.

“Dude, you're perfectly in control. Did you finally learn to focus on me?”

Scott continue to avert his eyes. “Um...”

“What?”

“I’m not thinking of you.”

The others turned to Scott, to Stiles, and then back to Scott. “Then who?”

“Um...Allison.” He whispered, but everyone heard it.

Cora sat up. “Allison? Allison. The freaking hunter.” Cora’s voice was leveled but brimming with anger.

Stiles had informed Scott the second day of classes about Allison, but Scott had assured him that Allison was good. He couldn’t really find fault as Scott tended to be the better judge of character, but he was still wary of the Argents as a general precaution.

“She’s not a hunter.” Scott retorted.

“Right like I’m not a werewolf.” Cora shot back quickly.

“She isn’t.”

“Scott, she’s been trained as a hunter you can fucking tell in class. Do you see how she duels?”

“She’s just good in DADA. I’m good at DADA, Derek is good at DADA! Why does hunter training have to be involved?”

“Cause it always is when concerning the Argents.” Derek interrupted. “Look Scott we get it. You think she’s this perfect girl and all, but wake up. She is a hunter and has a strong chance of working against us. You need to be vigilant with her, not cavorting with her.”

“You can’t tell me what to do! You’re not my Alpha.”

Stiles rolled his eyes so hard he thought he would blind himself. “Nice way of sounding mature Scott.”

“You’re on their side?” Scott slammed his hands on the floorboards by his thighs. “You’ve never been on their side. You don’t even trust Derek! You hate him! You’ve said so before.”

Stiles glanced quickly at Derek in embarrassment. “That’s not true.” His heart stuttered and he knew the werewolves could hear the lie. He didn’t want them to think that though. “At least not anymore. I trust Derek now.” He gained confidence. “I trust them now a lot more than I trust the Argents.”

“I think its easy to trust Derek more than the Argents.” Erica smirked as she crossed one ankle over the other. “Have you seen Allison hanging out with Lydia Martin and Jackson Whittemore? Nothing good comes out of hanging out with that pretentious lot.”

Isaac who had been sitting beside Scott, gave him a slight nudge with his shoulder. “She has a point, you know.”

Scott growled loudly, his eyes turning yellow. Isaac recoiled.

“Just accept it.” Derek sternly said. His attention was pulled to the only window in the room as he stared at the full moon. “You need to be thinking of Deucalion and the plan, not a freaking Argent. She’s going to use you, that’s all the Argents do.”

Stiles found the comment odd. Derek’s tone suggested his words came from experience. What experience did Derek have with the Argents besides the fire?

“Plus,” Cora leaned back. “She seems like a complete self-centered bitch.”

Stiles flinched as Scott shifted and launched at Cora. They tumbled to the floor. Cora shifted into her Beta form as well, lifting her legs to throw Scott over her. Scott’s back collided on the floor. When he looked up, Cora had her claws poised to attack.

Derek growled to stop both of them, but they didn’t listen. Scott grabbed her wrist and twisted it harshly. The bone snapped. Cora roared in pain.

Derek jumped into the fray. His instinct begged him to inflict pain upon Scott, but Stiles’ magic got there first.

Stiles’ body felt as if it was suffering from an out of control heating spell. Underneath his skin, muscles and lungs constricted. Familiarity came with the burning sensation that he did not feel as shocked as he should have been when the red balls of swirling haze hovered around him. The lights exploded in several directions, hitting every werewolf in the room.

The lights did not deter Scott and Cora. The two continued tumbling on the floor and Stiles’ magic threw another wave of red lights. He was trying to control his breathing, remain calm, but his magic had a mind of its own.

The red lights cleared Derek’s instinct to kill. Thinking with clarity, he abandoned his sister, knowing very well his sister could hold her own against someone like Scott, and made his way to Stiles.

“Stiles!” Derek ducked from two red lights. “Stiles! Calm down!”

“I’m trying.” He called back. His legs shook causing him to fall to hands and knees. His own skin felt suffocating the longer the red lights thundered around the room.

Derek finally reached for Stiles’ shoulder. He shook him. “Calm down. Control your magic.”

Stiles couldn’t. The magic felt nothing like his own. Two hit Derek in the chest, he hissed, but he breathed through the pain, still unrelenting on his hold. Red lights forged anew. With the fresh batch, revelation came to the Slytherin. He effectively distinguished what the magic felt like.  The reason he perceived his magic with a quality of uncontrol was because this wasn’t his magic. It was his mother’s.

The epiphany made him unaware of the others. Isaac and Boyd separated Cora and Scott.

Both of them told Cora and Scott to get a hold of themselves. The Gryffindors still had anger pumping through their veins but for the sake of Stiles, thought of their anchors. The threat died down and so did Stiles’ magic.

The red wisps of light faded in Stiles’ line of sight. Although the Moonwalker magic simmered, Stiles’ body did not. His body shook and he felt the beginning of a panic attack. Why did the magic feel like his mom? It didn’t make sense. He crumbled to the floor and Derek, who still had his hands on Stiles’ shoulders became startled. “Stiles?” He called bending over to search for Stiles’ eyes. When Stiles wouldn’t rise, Derek tried to push him up.

“Stiles!” Scott shouted, moving away from Isaac’s hold. He ran to his friend, knees skidding against the wood. “Don’t touch him!” Scott shoved Derek away.

Derek snarled. “He’s freaking out. Why not?”

“Because that’s exactly why. You don’t touch him unless he says its ok!” Scott sternly informed. “Breathe, Stiles. Breathe.”

“I’m trying.” Stiles panted, sweat forming at the back of his neck.

“What’s wrong with him?” Boyd took a small step forward.

“He’s having a panic attack.” Isaac commented. He walked to Stiles’ slowly and dropped in front of him. “Stiles?” Stiles looked up slowly at Isaac’s face. He wasn’t concerned but rather understanding. And somehow that brought Stiles back. He sagged into Isaac. Isaac flinched at the unexpected contact; but when he met Scott’s eyes on what he should do, Isaac awkwardly wrapped his arms around Stiles. Stiles let his breathing return to a natural rhythm until he caught wind he was in an uncomfortable position. He pulled back abruptly.

“Again? What the fuck was that?” Isaac asked, trying to quell the embarrassment.

Stiles rubbed the back of his neck, rubbing the sweat into his skin. “Moonwalker magic. Whatever the fuck that means. Deaton still hasn’t gotten back to me on that.” He stood up and approached the corner of the room where he had left his bookbag. He ruffled inside until he found the large book he had been trying to figure out since he last found it. He sat down in the middle of the room, avoiding Scott’s apologetic gaze for causing Stiles’ panic attack.

“My mom was one. This pendant belonged to her and so did this book.”

“The book’s blank.” Isaac stated.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Thank you, Isaac for that rivetting information.” He huffed. “I’ve been trying to figure out what enchantment my mom put on the book. I have a strong feeling it’s about Moonwalkers. And I don’t know why but I have a strong feeling it could help us with Deucalion.”

“Have you asked Deaton?” Boyd asked, taking the book from Stiles to rifle through it.

“He doesn’t know either.”

“You’ll figure it out.” Derek said, sitting where Stiles had his panic attack minutes before.

Stiles caught his look. “Hope so.”

|~~***~~|

By the middle of September, Cora was refusing to acknowledge Scott. She didn’t speak with him, she didn’t even sit at the Gryffindor table anymore. She spent it with Derek and his Betas at the Hufflepuff table and usually dragged Stiles along with her. He had been spending a lot of time with Cora for the past few weeks and he noticed subsequently he was hanging out with Derek a lot more than usual.

It was strange hanging out with the older teen when stressful and panicky situations were not involved. Not that Stiles was complaining for the moment of reprieve. Currently, all three were at the clocktower courtyard, chatting. Literally just chatting. If someone had told his eleven year old self that he would be chatting with the freaking werewolf Hales he would have—Merlin, he didn’t even know what he would do, his first thought would be if someone had drugged him by sneaking a potion in his morning pumpkin juice. He had no idea how this happened. What was his world coming to?

“I can’t believe you're a fan of the Montrose Magpies,” Cora snarled to Stiles.

“How can you not be? They’re the most successful Quidditch team. They’ve won the League Cup thirty-two times! And give me back my chocolate frog.” He yanked the chocolate from her fingers.

“She does that,” Derek said, who was sitting in the alcove of the banisters, while reading a book.

Cora whined and tried taking the frog back. “Ah c’mon I bought you licorice wands two days ago.”

“You gave me half the box.” Stiles plopped chocolate into his mouth.

She rolled her eyes. “Semantics. But anyway that’s my point. You only like them cause they win. That’s not truly liking a team that’s liking their trophies.”

“All right then, who do you look like? Don’t tell me. You like the Holyhead Harpies.” Stiles groaned when Cora didn’t correct him. “Oh c’mon really? They have the best seeker in the league but their team is rubbish.”

“Yeah because rubbish means making it to the European Cup ten times running.”

“And yet not making it past the second round. C’mon Derek, tell you sister she has terrible taste in Quidditch teams.”

“No.” Derek said monotonously.

“Derek, doesn’t like Quidditch.” Cora looked up to her brother. “He tolerates it at best, cause he likes to support his baby sister.”

Derek made no comment and continued reading. “Ah that’s sweet Der-Bear.”

Derek immediately looked up from his book to glare at Stiles. “Say that one more time. I dare you.”

“You really should,” Cora grinned. “I’m highly curious to see what ingenious way he has of messing with you.”

Derek glared harder. “Maybe on a day when I’m really really bored.” Stiles said.

Out of nowhere, Erica was sprawled all across Derek’s back. The teen didn’t react and still continued reading the book. What the fuck was he reading? He glanced down at the book and saw it was a tattered copy of Wizard Fairy Tales. “Hey Derek, guess what?” She said.

Isaac appeared a second later and weaved his way to sit on the alcove beside him, wearing a ridiculous scarf. Stiles was really questioning Isaac’s fashion sense and wondered if Derek dressed him on a daily basis after Cora confirmed they all went shopping together. That was an amusing thought. Derek the werewolf stylist.

“What?” Derek asked, amusing the younger girl.

“Quidditch positions were just posted.” Isaac said.

Derek set his book down, hand over the cover. “And?”

Erica grinned ear to ear. “Meet Hufflepuff’s new Seeker and Beater.”

Stiles groaned. “No, now Slytherin will really be in third place this year.”

“What about Aiden? He’s one now.” Cora asked.

“I haven’t really confronted him about you know what yet and I don’t know if he’s going to want to use his new abilities for the game against Gryffindor.”

“It’s against Gryffindor. You guys are Slytherins. You really think he’s not going to cheat?” Isaac retorted.

“True, but two werewolves against one still not really fair.”

“At least being a Seeker is going to be fun now.” Cora commented. Erica grinned and the two high-fived each other over Derek. The teen didn’t even bat an eyelash.

“Congrats you two, but remember not to overdo it. Keep a cover.” Derek reminded them. It made Stiles chortle. He wondered if Derek knew how much he sounded like a parent to these wayward Hufflepuffs. “Where’s Boyd?”

“In the library.” Erica made a face. “Said something about Ancient Runes project due tomorrow.”

“Merlin’s polka dotted underpants!” Stiles exclaimed, grabbing his bag on the floor. He pulled out his Ancient Runes syllabus. “Crap, I thought that was due next week.”

“Anyway,” Isaac ignored Stiles’ freak out. “I’ve been spying just like you said. The Argent girl just joined the Dueling Club on orders of Lydia Martin. I caught her meeting her dad just two days ago and overheard them talking about getting back into training. Whatever that means. But other than that she’s been good. She’s actually kind of hot.”

Everyone sent Isaac a glare. Cora stood and pushed Isaac off the alcove. He yelped falling on the floor. Cora sat back down, continuing to steal Stiles’ Honeydukes’ treats.

“Spying?” Stiles asked Derek, slapping Cora’s hands away. She slapped harder that he was forced to surrender his last piece of chocolate.

“Precaution. I would do it but Argent already knows I’m one and I doubt he knows about them.”

“Why not have Scott spy? He’s the one hanging out with her nearly 24/7.”

“You honestly think he’s going to spy on the girl he has the hugest crush on?” Derek raised his brow. “Although I think you should join the dueling club to see what she’s up to.”

“Cora and Stiles are in the club, already. Why do we have to?” Isaac whined.

“Better in numbers.”

Isaac and Erica nodded. “It might take some convincing on Boyd’s part. But we can get him to at least show up.”

“Speaking of Boyd—” He stood up and stretched his limbs. “I’m gonna go meet him in the library to see if he’s going to let me copy. Congrats Erica and Isaac, I guess.”

“Good luck,” Erica wished him.

|~~***~~|

It was the end of September and Stiles finally found himself some breathing from all the drama that had been occurring all month. Instead of dying down, it only seemed to be escalating. Just two days ago, Scott and Cora had gone into a dueling match in the clocktower courtyard. The duel ended with Cora coughing slugs and Scott hanging by the pendulum of the clock tower upside down. It took Professor Finstock to get Scott down and send Cora to the Hospital Wing to finish coughing slugs. None of it was pretty and Stiles was lucky to avoid the crossfire by casting a surprising well timed _protego_. He felt strange thanking Argent’s lessons for that but he tried not to think about it too much.

However, after that, Stiles couldn’t deal with it anymore. He refused to be the middle man so he snuck away and was hiding instead in the empty Arithmancy classroom on a cloudy Saturday afternoon. He tapped his quill against his lips, distracted by the scenery outside. He could see a few people heading to Hogsmeade and Stiles felt jealous of every single one of them.

He groaned and turned back to his homework.

Several people had informed Stiles that fifth year was going to be the most difficult, but Stiles chose not to believe them at least until he was actually in it. Nearly all his classes called for about an hour or two of work each night, leaving little room to slack off. It was stressful as it added to the drama he was trying to avoid and the entire _Operation Don’t Die on the Lunar Eclipse While We Face Three Alphas and Fifty Uncontrollable Werewolves._ Merlin, he did need to find an acronym. ODDLEWWEFTAFUW? Operation Lunar? Operation LETAFUW? Stop Demon Wolf from rising another Demon Wolf?

Stop WOlf from Raising Demon?....Operation SWORD?

Hell yeah, that sounded cool. He needed to write that down. He searched for the right notebook and with a self-satisfied smirk wrote the name. He would probably change it but for now it was better than the former.

But truly everything was making him jittery and he was half tempted to go to the Hospital Wing for a Calming Draught. But the potion always made his stomach all funky, but all potions were that way.  

He pushed his Herbology book to the side. There were just too many thoughts. He stood up and began to pace the front of the classroom. He paced for nearly an hour, chewing on his lip and fingers in a fit of manic neurosis as he considered where to start. There were so many variables, so much planning, the Moonwalker book, so much homework to finish; he couldn’t put them in any sort of order that made any sense. Which was a first for Stiles. He was the best multi-tasker but that usually only came when he felt that he had a secure back to fall on. And that secure back was currently hanging out with Allison Argent instead of him.

He eventually gave up trying to find a starting point and simply sat on the floor, pulling his Charms textbook down with him. He began writing.

_“There you are.”_

Stiles jumped. He saw Lydia Martin at the door, closing it, and stepping inside.

Stiles peeked over his shoulder. Was this really happening? Was Lydia Martin alone with him in a classroom, looking for him?!

“I need the Arithmancy book.”

“What?” Stiles’ throat felt dry.

“New Theory of Numerology by Lukas Karuzos? The librarian said you had checked it out. I need the book for the essay due Wednesday. Are you done with it?”

“Not really.”

“Fine.” Lydia Martin walked over to the mountain of textbooks that Stiles had on a desk and she looked for the book. She pulled it out of the stack, grabbed an empty desk, and began to work.

“Uh…” Stiles licked his lips.

“Don’t say a word.” She said, crossing her legs.

“But.”

“Nope.”

Stiles gave one hard nod and continued working on his charms homework. Forty-five minutes in he looked up and examined Lydia. She appeared to be taking a break as she was just twirling her blue quill around.

“So um Arithmancy.” Stiles trailed.

Lydia slowly turned toward him.

Stiles licked his lips. “How’s the essay coming along?”

“Finished.”

“Oh. Then why are you still here? Not that I don’t want you to leave it’s just—”

“—Is this conversation leading somewhere or are you just going to waste valuable oxygen to gawk and drool.?”

“Uh...”

“Then, shush.”

“You finished the essay fast.”

“Arithmancy is easy.”

It wasn’t, despite it being Stiles’ second best subject, but Stiles’ didn’t refute. “Do you want to be an Arithmancer?”

“Yeah, have a few theories on magical patterns going on already.”

“Arithmancer. Wow thats difficult. I’m sure you could do it. You’re the smartest person in the school.”

Lydia hummed, knowing this information already. She looked at all the books on the desk and her eyes paused on one. She pulled it out of the stack, examining the front and back cover.

“What are you doing with this book?” Lydia asked, flipping through the empty pages.

He paused when he saw Lydia holding the Moonwalker book. She was handling it with care which Stiles appreciated, but Lydia was looking at it as if she knew exactly what it was.

“Excuse me?”

She set the book on the desk. “It’s an ancient pureblood book. Extremely ancient. One of your dad’s?”

Stiles nodded out of lying habit.

“What do you mean its a pureblood book?”

“In that only a specific bloodline can read the contents. Usually a few drops makes the book readable. That’s why I was asking. You're not a pureblood you would never be able to read the book.”

“Blood?”

She nodded, with a look of annoyance that she had to repeat herself.

“And hypothetically speaking if I could read the book what would be in it?”

“Dark curses probably,” She shut the book. “Now why would someone like you be interested in dark curses?”

Stiles began to stammer. “I wouldn’t.”

“Of course, just like you wouldn’t be interested in dark creatures.”

“What? What are you talking about?” Stiles laughed.

“The book you stole from Jackson in fourth year was about dark creatures.”

“Oh! _That!_ Yeah that was just a joke.”

Lydia smiled, knowingly. “What time is it? I was killing some time before I have to meet Aiden.”

“Uh, 1:30”

“Great.” She gathered her things. “Thank you for the book.”

With that, she left the room and Stiles was left stupidly standing in the empty Arithmancy classroom for nearly five minutes. When it finally clicked, Stiles stuffed four books in his bag while carrying three, including the Moonwalker book, and ran outside. He needed to find Scott to tell him the good news.

He wasn’t far from the Gryffindor common room so it only took him a short two minute run to get there. He spoke the password that Cora had been supplying to him since she became prefect and rushed inside. Nearly everyone was in Hogsmeade so the common room was nearly empty. Except for the two Gryffindors sitting at the couch and heavily making out.

Stiles yipped as he saw Allison sitting on Scott’s lap.

The noise startled both of them and Allison slowly climbed out of Scott’s lap while Scott was blushing like mad but with a blissed look on his face.

“Scott we need to talk,” Stiles said urgently. He didn’t bother to apologize.

“I’m kind of busy.” Scott spoke, glancing in Allison’s direction.

Allison waved at Stiles and Stiles waved back out of politeness. “Yeah this is a lot more important. No offence, Allison.”

Scott nodded. “I’ll be back.” He told Allison.

Both boys rushed to Scott’s room. “Ok, what?”

“I know how to read the book.”

“What book?”

“The book I found in my parent’s attic.” Stiles nearly shouted.

“Ok? So?”

“So this could help us with Deucalion.”

“I thought we had the plan basically covered. Why do we need that book?”

Stiles glared. “Because I need answers.” He grumbled. His agitation grew, the longer Scott asked questions instead of asking him to show him the book.

“Answers to what?”

Stiles choked on his words for a moment. Did Scott just really ask that? Scott knew exactly how important it was for him to figure out what he was. Was hanging out with Allison pushing everything about his friend to the side? “Why my mother died,” Stiles sternly said. He pulled his bag strap closer to his shoulder. “You can go back to Allison now, I can see that this isn’t important to you.”

“Stiles.” Scott muttered, but Stiles was already walking down the stairs.

“Is everything alright?” Allison asked sweetly, when she caught Stiles hard gaze.

“Yeah. Congrats on getting together.”

“Thank you.” She said completely missing the venomous tone. It was for the best though, he didn’t even really mean it anyway, it wasn’t Allison’s fault.

“I’ll see you Scott when you’re not busy.” He sarcastically mumbled and walked out of the Gryffindor Common Room.

As he began heading down the stairs, he realized that he had skipped lunch. Checking the time on his Batman watch, he still had about fifteen minutes before the House Elves cleaned up. He hurried down to the Great Hall and grabbed a few sandwiches.

He wanted to tell someone desperately about the book. But Scott was obviously no help. Checking the time absentmindedly again, Stiles’ attention focused on the Batman logo. Shoving a sandwich into his mouth he headed out of the castle and into the Forbidden Forest.

Stiles wasn’t positive if they were going to be there but he was immensely relieved when he saw Derek and his pack.

All of them were sparring, except Cora who was doing an extraneous workout. Isaac and Boyd were dueling with transfigured mannequins, while Derek taught Erica the appropriate time for a roundhouse kick.

It was Derek who smelled him first. He missed Erica’s successful kick as Stiles inched closer.  

“Sorry for interrupting,” Stiles muttered, feeling stupid for no reason Stiles could discern. He groaned as he set his heavy bag down and mentally cursed for not setting a feather light charm on his bag before he decided to walk all over the castle.

“What’s wrong? Cora asked, who paused her rigorous exercise of push ups.

“Nothing just figured out the book” Stiles smiled.

“Really?” Cora shot up. Everyone else stopped training too and looked at Stiles with wonderment.

“And that’s the reaction I wanted,” Stiles mumbled. He sat down cross legged and everyone sat down around him, except Derek who remained standing, but paying rapt attention nonetheless.

“How did you figure it out?” Erica questioned.

“Lydia helped.”

“Of course.” Cora murmured.

“So how do you read it?” Boyd asked, before Cora could go on a tangent about her distaste on the Ravenclaw.

“Well this is the part I'm a little wary on. She said blood lets you read the book.”

“Blood?” Isaac asked.

“Blood.”

“Are you sure its safe?” Erica asked.

“It should be my dad has a safe in Gringotts that he can only open with blood and nothing bad happens soo…”

“Ok so what are you waiting for?” Cora admonished.

Stiles nodded. He pulled out his wand and pressed the tip to his palm to cut a fine line.

“Wait.” Derek interrupted.

Stiles looked up expectantly.

“There are too many nerve endings there. Cut somewhere else.” Derek ordered.

“Where?”

“Back of your upper arm.”

Stiles groaned, but decided to take Derek’s word. He removed his robe and immediately felt the autumn chill raise goosebumps all across his skin. The air passing by lifted his scent into the air and all of the werewolves made disgusted faces. Derek seemed affected by it the most as his reaction looked like he just got hit by the Hogwarts Express itself.

“And yeah thats the complete reaction, I wanted when I take off my clothes in front of two pretty girls.” Stiles sarcastically quipped as he rolled up his left sleeve.

Cora made a gagging noise while Erica grinned. “You think we’re pretty, Stiles?”

Stiles preferred not to comment especially when Isaac made a face. “Are we not pretty? Cause I like to think I’m the prettiest dude here.”

Cora slapped Isaac upside the head as he laughed.

“Alright, here goes.” He cut a clean line along the back of his upper arm and waited for the blood to pool. He set his wand down by the Moonwalker book and with his wand hand, grabbed the blood to smear it across the front cover of the book.

It was disgusting beyond measure, but the book seemed to absorb all of the blood. When it looked like nothing was happening, Stiles was about to give up hope but then he felt something warm tingle across his skin. Looking back at the cover, he let out a surprised huff.

“Fucking Merlin!” Stiles screeched loudly, laughing. Several of the werewolves covered their ears or grimaced.

He opened the book and flipped through the pages rapidly. He could see everything. Every little detail. Every single ancient rune and every single note his mother had left on the margins of every page.

“Stiles.” Stiles, heard Derek say, but he ignored him for the sake of flipping through the book.

“Can you believe this, look.” Stiles, pushed the book under Cora’s nose.

“I can’t see anything.” She attempted to push the book back from squishing her nose.

“What do you mean its right there!” Stiles shouted.

“Stiles.” Derek repeated.

“What?”

“Your arm.”

Stiles looked down at his arm, where it was still in fact bleeding heavily. He cursed and tried to stop the blood flow but it was still too much. “I don’t suppose any of you guys know healing spells?” Everyone shook their head. “Great.”

“Here.” Erica said, pulling Isaac’s scarf from his neck to hand it to Stiles. Isaac protested but gave up his scarf when Erica growled. Stiles thanked the girl and tied the scarf tightly around his arm. After that was settled, it was easy to decipher that he was the only one able to read it and when the others dropped their blood on the book to see if it would work, it never did.

Stiles felt slightly proud of that. It made him feel more connected to his mother, knowing that she was the only one able to read the book as well. He felt tied to her.

“Ok so since we can’t read it, what does it say?” Isaac asked.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know.”

“Are you well aware that repeating everything I say, adds nothing to the conversation?”

Isaac grimaced, flipping him the bird. Stiles continued. “It’s written in a bunch of Ancient Runes that I’ve never seen before. Some of these are beyond archaic and my mother’s notes on the side are actually more confusing.”

“What do you mean?” Erica asked, leaning over Stiles’ shoulder, hoping she could read the print at a different angle.

“Well everything is basically initialed, she has weird drawings, and some weird acronyms and anagrams. None of it makes sense.”

“So like your notes.” Cora supplied.

“Yeah, basically.”

“Well good luck reading them.”

Stiles groaned and mindlessly began to flip through the pages as the other werewolves began to train again.

“It’s a start.”

“Huh?” Stiles asked, looking to Derek.

“It’s a start.”

Stiles gave a weak smile watching Derek head to the girls. Both of them ganged up on him and Stiles snorted as they began making a puppy wrestling pile with Isaac joining in a few seconds later. Boyd was the only one not jumping into the disarray but Stiles could see him grinning with amusement.

Stiles shook his head and pulled out his Ancient Runes book and got ready to translate the entire book.

|~~***~~|

Allison stretched her legs underneath the blue velvet blanket as she looked at the Black Lake. The Black Lake was intimidating as it stretched on for miles. Beauxbatons had scenery such as this, but it was much more elegant. Yet again, the school was much different than Hogwarts. Back in France, the Dining Hall always had wood nymphs serenading the students while they ate in polite hushed conversation. In the Great Hall it was much the opposite. Everyone was rowdy and boisterous and Allison loved every second of it.

Hogwarts was coming to feel like more to home to her than Beauxbatons ever did. In France, there were too many rules and all the staff demanded respect out of propriety sake rather than respect alone. She remembered that in every class back in France each time a professor entered the room, they would have to wait until the Professor sat themselves down before they could be seated. She never understood why.

Here at Hogwarts, the students deeply respected the staff in their own way. Silly trivialities were not in the way of education.

What she loved most about the school though were its houses. Beauxbatons was not divided in such a manner. She remembered reading in her history book that when Beauxbatons first began, there were houses, but the staff felt it created too much tension. Allison didn’t feel that way. There was a certain camaraderie of sharing a house with people with similar traits and perspectives near her own. And it was much easier to speak to other people outside of her house by understanding their fundamentals and values.

She was glad her father pulled her out of the school. Obviously, her getting pulled out had more to do than her father getting a new job.

She didn’t like to think about it but with the Black Lake right beside the Forbidden Forest, Allison was taken back to the summer before fourth year.

Her mother and father were arguing in their hushed and hurried French. It was nothing unusual and Allison bypassed it as another day. She waited for them to finish as usual and then proceed to training with her father.

He taught her everything he knew and Allison learned all of it with accurate precision. She learned fencing to help her with dueling spells, she learned how to use an arrow and crossbow, and she learned about dark creatures.

Allison was not ashamed that her family hunted dark creatures for a living, but she did begin to grow ashamed as time passed. People at school teased her mercilessly for her aunt and grandfather in Azkaban. She knew what they had done. They had broken the code and her father tried to instill the code in her as much as possible so she would not repeat the same mistakes.

Allison wouldn’t.

She didn’t understand what drove her family to kill an innocent family.

And thats when the fighting between her parents began. Her mother agreed with her Aunt Kate and Grandfather Gerard. She tried to instill all these prejudices about werewolves to Allison when she would receive lessons from her mother on strategic theories. Allison didn’t buy them for one bit. Not one, when the memory of a young eleven year old boy shaking as he waited for his accused to be put on trial crossed her mind.

But her mother still tried.

Victoria Argent took her out into the night to look for the Simone pack. It was in a dark French forest and an unexpected rain burst worked in their favor as it hid their scent. Victoria Argent took her daughter deeper into the Forest and ordered her to kill the pack once her mother had successfully blocked them from leaving. Allison couldn’t. She couldn’t kill them. So her mother did. She killed nearly everyone in the pack and in doing so paid with her own life. The Alpha of the pack used his last breath to slit her mother’s throat right in front of Allison.

Allison had cried for her dying mother for hours. Aurors apparated around her and it wasn’t until her father arrived that Allison realized how much time had passed.

The rest of the summer and fourth year was bleak and foggy. She wandered around the manor in a stupor and her father tried to get her out of it as best he could. She took her training more seriously as a distraction. It was the only way she could lose herself, but the more she trained, the more she hated herself. But this was all she knew how to do. It was a part of her blood whether she liked it or not.

When her fourth year began, she was angry instead of saddened as she had been during the summer. She became an outcast. The teasing didn’t stop and everyone questioned her about her mother. Allison got suspended when she had punched another girl in the throat for insinuating her mother had gone psychopathic. She couldn’t wait for the summer again.

It was at the beginning of her summer vacation when Alan Deaton had arrived on their doorstep, asking her father for a teaching position and help with a problem. Deaton had informed Allison that she could start all over and that knocked Allison out of her trance. Starting over in a new country where no one knew her sounded perfect.

“Of whom—of what are you thinking?” asked Lydia Martin, who she had been sharing a small picnic on a random October Thursday afternoon.

“Nothing,” returned Allison with a start.

“As is the reply we make instinctively to such a question.” Lydia teased. Allison was extremely fond of Lydia. The girl was brighter than anyone she had ever met and while she did know of Allison's past, she never spoke ill of it. “Let me guess, it involves a dopey eyed, cute Gryffindor boy.” Allison chuckled at Lydia’s guess.

“If your going to start talking about McCall, I’m leaving.” Jackson interrupted. The Slytherin boy lounged on the blanket with his eyes closed and his arms at the back of his head.

“You’re the one who wanted to come,” Lydia reminded him.

Allison rolled her eyes as the two began to banter. When she had first met the pair she honestly thought they were together but apparently, Lydia was dating, not dating, but dating Aiden Twine a fifth year in Slytherin. Which brought up the undeniable question that had been plaguing Allison’s mind since the start of the term.

“Why are there so many werewolves at Hogwarts?” Allison finally decided to ask.

Both Lydia and Jackson froze.

Allison didn’t understand their reaction. Didn’t everyone know? She was with Scott who was a werewolf himself. Allison sighed as it clicked. Of course they didn’t. Which also meant that Scott didn’t know that she knew he was a werewolf since day one of meeting him. Great. She needed to talk to Scott as soon as possible after her little lunch date with Lydia and Jackson.

“What do you mean?” Lydia deflected. She began to pour tea into Allison’s tea cup and add more biscuits to her plate. Allison took neither but she did catch the deflection in her friend’s tone.

“Is it supposed to be a secret?” She asked.

“Sort of.” Lydia answered.

Jackson sat up. “Wait Lydia. You knew McCall was a werewolf.”

“I’ve known for a bit.” She said.

Jackson placed his weight on his arms. “Oh, did McCall tell Allison and she told you?”

“I’ve known of November since last year.” She answered.

Ouch. Allison immediately wanted to get up and leave. “And you didn’t think to tell me!” Jackson spat. “You knew I was growing mad last year trying to figure out what the hell was going on with that Gryffindor idiot.”

“Scott’s not stupid.” Allison defended but it went unheard.

“Did it cross your mind that it wasn’t my place to tell. Have some class, Jackson, please.” Lydia retorted. She drank calmly from her tea.

Jackson glared at her but quickly turned to Allison. “Wait you said werewolves. Who else is one? I know the Hales are but there’s more right?”

If everything was meant to be kept secret, Allison decided to keep her mouth shut. “I don’t think its my place to tell either.” She knew for a fact Isaac Lahey was a werewolf as he had been stalking her since the start of the term, not very efficiently if she might add. And he always hung around Erica Reyes, and Vernon Boyd. After watching them closely for five minutes, it was easy to tell they were all werewolves, as well pack to Derek Hale. And then that left Aiden and Ethan who were werewolves themselves, but Allison didn’t know how they fit into the picture yet. “I’m sorry I brought it up. I thought everyone knew considering that it might not be safe to have that many werewolves in Hogwarts without prior notice to the other students. Guess I was wrong.”

“Speaking of them though. How’s dating Scott?” Lydia asked conspicuously with a sly grin.

“Different, but amazing.” Allison blushed.

“How’s your dad taking it?” Jackson asked.

“He’s indifferent which is more than I can ask for. He’s been trying to be supportive after what happened in the summer before my fourth year. And oh sweet Flamel. That’s why Scott didn’t understand the threats my dad was giving him last week when he invited us to dinner in his room. Great.”

“McCall doesn’t know you know he’s a freaking werewolf?” Jackson laughed. Allison shook her head trying to hold in her laughter as well. “And you still don’t think you’re boyfriend is an idiot.”

“He’s smart in certain areas.” Allison tried to defend. “I really need to talk him though.”

“How about this week for the Hogsmeade visit. It could be a double date, you and Scott, and Aiden and I.” Lydia proclaimed.

Jackson groaned and resumed his prior position of lying down. Allison looked at the girl with trepidation. She didn’t really want to go on a double date. She had already planned on a date with Scott the day prior and she wasn’t sure how he would react with her springing this on him. She wasn’t even happy with Lydia springing this up on her. Group dates were never her thing, but from the maniacal gleam in Lydia’s eyes she knew there would be no denying her.

“Sure…” Allison trailed and she kicked Jackson on the side as he began to chuckle.

“Great be sure to give me the Gryffindor password for Saturday then.”

“Why?”

“To help you choose your clothes for the date. I’m not going to let you go in school robes.”

Allison handed over the password to Lydia and she beamed with satisfaction. Oh, Allison hoped that nothing would go wrong.

|~~***~~|

“I’m sorry, about the Argents,” Deaton said as he waved his wand around over the tea he was brewing.

Derek, Stiles, Cora, Erica, Isaac, and Boyd were seated around the Headmaster’s office. Stiles tried to ignore that Scott was not amongst their group. After finally belittling Deaton for an explanation on his actions, the group of teens were finally able to get a meeting with the usually busy Headmaster.

“Sorry for what? Bringing them to Hogwarts or having us relive our worst memories? Because neither of those are going to be solved with an apology,” Derek snarled.

“For both, of course.” Deaton ignored his hostile tone.

“Oh I’m sure you do,” Cora snapped.

“I am, but I called Chris Argent here to help with the situation.”

“To help? We don’t need help from outsiders much less hunters.” Derek crossed his arms.

“The fact that you believe you don’t need help bothers me,” Deaton said calmly. “Would you like Dragon’s Breath or Pegasus Flight tea?”

Boyd who had been attempting to listen with an open mind was the only one to answer the question. “Dragon’s Breath.” Deaton handed Boyd the tea with a smile that the teen returned.

The others sent Boyd a glare, but Boyd merely smirked over his cup.

“See this is what bothers _me_.” Stiles interrupted. “I was actually going to ask how Chris Argent was going to help but you just gave me the answer. You said he’s here to help with the situation not help _us_. You are creating a position where we aren’t part of this plan at all.”

“Well you’re taking it to an extreme but I suppose that is what it looks like doesn’t it? Even still, you are right. I don’t want any of you involved.”

Stiles scoffed. “After hearing that makes me want to help even more.”

All the werewolves agreed.

“We aren’t weak.” Derek said. “We have a pretty good chance of stopping Deucalion amongst ourselves, why do you not want us to help?”

“Weakness isn’t the issue, its a matter of protecting all of you.”

“Whatever, it’s the same thing no matter which way you put it. Honestly, after training for months you want us to avoid this. Can we really do that?” Derek asked with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“I’m with Derek. All of us have put too much into this and what about me. I’m a Moonwalker. I can help, can’t I?”

Deaton was quiet, but then said calmly. “You’re children and yes Derek even you, despite you aren’t a minor anymore. I don’t want you to do this.”

Erica huffed loudly to get everyone’s attention. “You know what I heard? The same thing I used to hear before I became a werewolf. Don’t do this honey you are going to strain yourself.  Don’t do _this_ or _that_. It was a constant world of people never giving me the chance to show my true capabilities. They had no right to judge me on something that was out of my control. The same applies here; we can’t control we are underage. But all of us in here have seen things beyond our years that adults will probably never face.  You don’t want us to do this because you think we’ll fail but you have no idea what we can do.”

“This isn’t about failing. This is your lives at stake.”

“And the whole world’s,” Stiles said. “The Argents are the best hunters but one man against all of them. It’s not going to work.”

Deaton stared back at them calmly. Stiles was getting extremely acquainted with the fact that Deaton was good at distancing himself from outward emotion.

Derek stood. “We are going to do this and if I have to—”

“—Don’t you dare order me Derek Hale. I am bound to you as your emissary but as your emissary I am there guide you to choose the best course of action for this pack. If it is your choice to ban together and attempt to stop Deucalion, fine. I honestly have no other option but to comply, I will follow you as my Alpha but I will do it under my own free will, thank you.”

Derek nodded. “If Chris Argent wants to help, fine, but my pack won’t be working with him.”

“If you insist. If that is everything, I wish for you to take your leave. Take care of yourself and let me know if you any of you change your mind.”

The others complied. They left the office.

Derek went ahead of everyone else. He had that face of brash determination that Stiles decided to forgo everyone’s wise decision to give Derek some space in favor of pursuing the moody sourwolf.

“Hey Derek.”

“No.” Derek replied as he continued to walk down the empty hallway.

“You didn’t even let me finish.”

“Don’t want to hear it.”

Stiles groaned. “You’re nearly impossible to talk to, you know that.”

Derek huffed. “Stop following me, go hang out with Cora or something.”

“But you don’t seem very…”

Derek stopped, turning an annoyed glare in the other’s direction. “Seem what?”

“Are you alright?”

Derek gave him a long look. Stiles was ready with a witty quip but Derek finally surrendered. The older Hufflepuff glanced at his shoes before speaking. “I’m just thinking.”

Stiles smiled at the small victory at getting the other to talk. “I know, that’s why I’m concerned.”

Derek shot him another glare. Stiles wasn’t fazed by it one bit. He had really gotten a lot better with this werewolf thing.

But Stiles took a step forward, invading Derek’s personal space. It should have been sent all the sneakoscopes whistling a tune of ‘Get ready to split or get bit,’ but Stiles pushed forward with courage and a bit of worry for the older teen.

“Seriously? Are you—?”

“—I’m fine.” Derek cut him off.

Stiles nodded, shuffling awkwardly. “Well, I just want you to know that I agree with you. Deaton went behind your back which sucks, but he’s trying to protect those close to him. I get it, you know, I do the same with my dad. You do a lot of stupid shit to protect those that matter to you but sometimes one might take it too far and hurt the one they are trying to protect and I really don’t know where I’m going with this but I just want you to know that I understand. If you don’t stop Deucalion you’re gonna feel guilty for bitting the others and putting them through hell and it was a spit to the face on what Deaton did. So I’m with you all the way on helping you stop Deucalion.”  

Derek blinked. “I hate you sometimes.” Derek replied.

“Huh?”

“I hate your stupid face and you do these annoying things that make me want to rip your throat out but I tend to forget you’re smart. You just...get it.”

“Thank you?” Stiles didn’t know how to take the compliment. As far as he knew, this was probably the nicest thing the other had ever said to him. “The feeling is normal, I hear. A lot of people tell me that, the hate my face thing, not the smart part. People usually tend to tell me an idiot which I don’t get because considering I’m second in my—”

Derek snorted. “ —Stiles. Shut up.”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah my talking is probably one of those things you mentioned that make you want to rip my throat out huh?”

Derek stepped forward, their shoe tips touching. He leaned in, his breath hot in Stiles' ear almost as if he had accepted Deaton's Dragon's Breath tea offer. “One day I might, so be careful.”

Stiles flinched back and couldn’t help but laugh when he saw the teasing smirk at Derek’s lips. “Not a chance buddy. I can talk for hours.”

“Lucky me.” And then he walked off, leaving Stiles to evaluate whether this constituted him and Derek friends now.

Stiles hoped they were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the tons of reviews last chapter. I think that was the most I've gotten. I loved reading all your different theories and different pov on how Cora reacted. And thanks for any other form of giving me a boost of confidence with kudos, bookmarks, and subscriptions. 
> 
> How did you think about Scott? What do you think is in the book and why do you think Stiles' feels his mom's magic each time the red lights appear? What did you think of Allison's back story? And what did you think of the Sterek? Please review!


	22. A Grim Hogsmeade Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Double dates and kisses, and dead bodies are just a typical day.

Allison was going through her trunk on a late Saturday morning. In order to pass through a Lydia debacle much more quickly, Allison arranged her non-school robes along her bed so Lydia could choose from them much more easily. Allison quickly discovered that choosing the path of least resistance was the only way to survive the strawberry-blonde.

As she placed her skirts in one pile, she heard footsteps come up the stairs. The door clicked open and Allison’s roommates came into the dorm. Sweat covered all three of them as they pulled their Quidditch gear piece by piece, the heavy leather falling with a thump on the beds. She briefly wondered how hard Scott had worked the team and how difficult it must have been to coach a team when the co-captains didn’t get along. Cora, as usual ignored Allison and went to her bed to get a few stuff before heading to the showers.

“Still?” Danielle Rhodes asked. She kicked off her Quidditch boots and fell onto her bed.

“Yup,” Allison folded a sweater, throwing it on the bed in frustration and slight anger. “Still not a single word from her.”

“I bet it’s cause she’s jealous you stole Scott from her.” Heather inputted, leaning against Allison’s bedpost.

Allison’s mouth parted. “I wasn’t aware she had a crush on—”

“—She doesn’t.” Danielle spoke quickly. “Heather, just likes to dramatize everything. Though Cora is probably jealous you took Scott away from her as a friend. They became pretty close last year.”

“Oh now I feel bad. You think if I hang out with Lydia, Scott will hang out with Cora more. She was here first and I don’t want to take anyone’s friend away.”

“Yeah, that won’t work either.” Danielle sat up. “Cause apparently Scott is angry that Cora is hanging out with his best friend, Stiles.”

“Who I am about eighty percent sure Cora does have a crush on!” Heather giggled.

“No I don’t.” Cora called loudly from the showers.

“How does she always hear us?” Heather’s face formed a frown.

Allison knew but after speaking with Lydia, kept the answer a secret.

Heather and Danielle went to the showers as well and Allison was left to arrange her stuff in silence for another fifteen minutes.

“Oh c’mon not even a little?” Heather cooed, coming out of the bathroom with Cora behind her. Both of them were wearing towels, although Cora’s hair was already dried.

“No.” Cora said. She went through her trunk to get some clothes.

“But Stiles is—”

“—No, he reeks too much for me to have a crush on him.” Cora slammed her trunk shut and went back into the bathroom to go change.

“I think the real person who has a crush on Stiles is Erica Reyes.” Danielle said, coming out of the bathroom already dressed.

Heather groaned. She began changing in front of them, she was the least shy with her body. “I can’t stand her, getting all the attention from all the boys. You’re lucky Allison that you have a boy dedicated to you. I see him hang out with Reyes and he doesn’t look at her with lustful eyes like the others.”

Allison smiled, glad for that tidbit of information. “Well, Scott’s a gentleman.”

“And incredibly cute.” Heather giggled as she rubbed a towel over her head.

“Would we call Scott cute?” Allison asked, looking for her jewelry box.

“Yeah. See attractive boys fall into three ranks. Cute like your Scott and I would think Stiles would fall under that category too.” Heather inputted. Cora came out of the bathroom at that moment and made a retching noise at Stiles’ name. Heather giggled. Cora went through her trunk again to look for her boots. She sat on the bed and half-heartedly listened to Heather. “And then there’s pretty, like Jackson Whittemore and there’s handsome like Vernon Boyd or Derek Hale, the sixth year Hufflepuff. Oh he’s so dreamy, too bad he has the personality of a rock otherwise girls would be all over him.”

Cora snorted.

Allison’s face scrunched. “I would think Scott would be considered handsome.”

“Mmm...maybe if he cut his hair, but he has that dopey-puppy-eyed look about him that I can only see him as cute.”

Allison chuckled and carefully watched Cora maneuver around Heather to grab a coat and scarf.

“So where are _you_ going?” Heather asked.

“Hogsmeade.” Cora tied the scarf in a knot.

“Oh, with who?”

“ _CORA!_ ” They heard echo from the common room downstairs.

Cora’s eye twitched.

“ _Stiles?_ You’re going on a _date_ with Stiles to Hogsmeade?” Heather gaped.

“No.”

“But he’s here to pick you up. I don’t think he has ever come to pick you up!” Heather screeched.

“Agreed,” Danielle spoke. “Is this seriously a date?”

Cora rolled her eyes. She tied her hair in a ponytail. “We are meeting my brother and others in Hogsmeade cause they are already there. He didn’t want to wake up early so I said we could go after I finish Quidditch practice.”

“ _CORA!_ ”

“And that’s as far as it goes. _I’M FREAKING COMING! CAN YOU BE ANYMORE ANNOYING!_ I’ll see you two later.” She said.

“Have fun,” Allison said, trying to make amends.

Cora didn’t make any visible reaction. It made Allison want to hurl at her but any frustrating emotion rolled away as Lydia Martin headed up the stairway.

“All right Allison, what have you got for me?” Lydia said, bouncing over to Allison’s bed. She skimmed the bed once and turned to Allison with a smile. “Seriously, what else you got?”

“This is it.”

“Really? Ok fine, I can work with this. Try this on.”

Allison looked at the short white dress that Lydia had handed to her and Allison looked at it warily. It was one of those sorts of clothes that every girl owned meaning that she had bought it on a whim and had never worn in it in her life because she didn’t know how to pair it with other clothes or didn’t have an occasion to wear it. Allison went into the bathroom to go change and when she returned she saw Lydia charming one of her stockings to shift back and forth seamlessly to black to a light aquamarine color and then back again. Allison put the stockings on without question as Lydia looked through her coats. She handed her one she didn’t even know she owned and as she put it on, Lydia was already there fixing her hair.

“Is Aiden meeting us there?” Allison asked, holding the bobby pins out for her.

“He said he would meet us at the front entrance. Scott was downstairs when I got here and I set him back up to go change.”

“Why?”

“He was wearing ripped muggle jeans, Allison.”

Allison rolled her eyes and let Lydia braid her hair to the side. When Lydia seemed pleased enough with her work the two finally went downstairs where Scott was waiting for them. As Allison came down, Scott looked flabbergasted and it made Allison shyly smile.

“Ready?” Lydia asked, adjusting her coat.

The two Gryffindors nodded and headed to the front entrance where they were met with Aiden.

Going to Hogsmeade wasn’t that bad. Lydia gave them a bit of privacy by going up ahead with Aiden while Allison and Scott trailed behind much slowly. Allison kept glancing at Scott wondering when would be the appropriate time to tell him she knew he was a werewolf, but as Scott grabbed her hand, she figured the moment could wait.

“Begin operation double date?” Scott whispered to Allison as they began to cross the Hogwart’s bridge.

“Commencing in thirty seconds officer.” Allison replied. “Set flattery and charm to max power.”  

Scott laughed as he saluted. “Of course lieutenant.”

Allison giggled and squeezed Scott’s hand.

When they finally approached Hogsmeade. Lydia informed them that they would not head into the Three Broomsticks, but rather Madam Puddifoot's. As soon as the four entered the cozy tea shop, both Aiden and Scott began sneezing.

“Everything ok?” Allison asked, rubbing Scott’s back.

“Yeah, the smell is just a bit intense.” Scott wiggled his nose. Aiden agreed.

Lydia got the four a table. Allison sat down warily with Scott, not knowing what to expect from the Ravenclaw girl. They ordered their food as soon as they sat down and Allison waited for the awkward conversations to begin.

“So,” Lydia began. “You two are the cutest couple ever.”

Scott flushed. “Yeah um...yeah we’re doing good.”

Allison smiled and brushed a piece of Scott’s hair out of the way. “Good? I say we’re doing very good. And how about you two?”

Aiden crossed his arms on the table, smirking at Lydia. “Yeah how are we doing? Since you keep saying we aren’t dating.”

“But you two aren’t seeing other people right?” Allison asked. They both shook their heads. “So what’s stopping you?”

Lydia hummed. “Well we’re just having too much fun to take this seriously. Why complicate it?”

“Agreed. Dont want a ball and chain.”

Lydia gasped. “Are you insinuating—”

Luckily at that time, the food came.

The date wasn’t as awkward as it could have been. Scott held Allison’s hand under the table as they ate and they conversed fairly well with Lydia and Aiden. Scott tried to get to know Aiden more especially since the other was a werewolf but he didn’t appear to be very receptive unless it was toward Lydia. He acted polite enough toward Allison though, so Scott wasn’t going to bring it up.

Lydia insisted on paying for everyone’s meals when they were finished, and really there was no point in arguing with her. They left the tea shop and began walking around Hogsmeade. It was inevitable since there really was only one main road, so the four ended up by the Shrieking Shack.

Scott had avoided this place ever since he got bit a year ago. He swore he could see the scorch marks on the ground from his _Bombarda_ spell and some trees scruffed from where Cora had been thrown.

“Scott?” Allison whispered, her hand tightening in his in worry.

“Sorry just this place...um...yeah never mind.” He watched as Lydia and Aiden hovered near by. Lydia seemed to be trying to eavesdrop, but then Aiden whisked her away into the Forbidden Forest. Panic welled up in Scott’s stomach. He still didn’t know if he could trust Aiden. But as usual, Allison distracted him from the events in his life.

“Uh, Scott. I need to tell you something.” She spoke softly.

“About what?”

“Um about you.”

Scott froze. “Um hopefully its good?” He tried to cover.

“I know that you are werewolf.” She whispered.

Scott felt something catch in his throat and his stomach churn. “Uh—”

“—I don’t mind is what I’m trying to say.”

“How long have you known?”

“The first day I met you.”

“Crap.”

“What?”

“You are a hunter, aren’t you?”

“...Yeah. Honestly I thought you knew that I knew. Being a hunter and a world renowned hunter’s daughter I can spot lycanthropy characteristics fairly easily. And everyone knows my family’s legacy so I thought you would know too. I thought, here’s a werewolf who can look past my family’s name and care for me.”

“I didn’t know about your family. My friends told me, but I didn’t believe them. I should have.” He really really should have. He felt like the biggest tool in the world.

“Does this mean we’re breaking—”

Scott searched for her eyes. “No. I mean...I just...you're the sweetest girl I’ve met, Allison.” He took a deep breath. “And my opinion of you still hasn’t changed.”

Allison looked up, her large brown eyes disbelieving. Scott smiled and cupped her face with his hands. “You accepted me first. I want to do the same.”

Allison chuckled and leaned in to kiss him. Scott pulled back. “You know, your father’s threats that night he invited us to dinner in his office make a lot more sense now.”

Allison laughed. It made Scott want to sing odes to her dimples. He leaned in again, kissing her more softly. They still had a lot to talk about, a lot, such as: why Allison’s family was here, what her hunter status meant, and if she still hunted werewolves. However, their kiss felt like a promise that they would work out as it came along. Differences weren’t going to keep them apart. It was perfect.

Well it was up until they heard a scream come from the forest. Scott unlatched his lips from Allison’s. His eardrums felt as if they were shattering. His hands came up to shut out the noise. It wasn’t working.

“Scott!” Allison kneeled beside him. When had he fallen to his knees?

The noise didn’t stop. It took a moment, but Scott was able to pinpoint the voice. “Lydia.” He ground out through his teeth.

He bit through the pain to pull out his wand and run into the forest with Allison. He noticed Jackson and Danny right behind them but he didn’t have time to question it, not when Lydia was still screeching.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Derek had taken his Betas to the Hog’s Head in Hogsmeade. He much preferred it over the Three Broomsticks that always had too many students and too much noise. The Hog’s Head was perfect, better drinks too. He thanked the owner of the pub as he brought the table their drinks. Derek paid for everyone and gave the owner a tip, which the man took graciously. Derek took a sip of his firewhiskey and delighted in the slight burn. While alcohol didn’t really affect werewolves, Derek still appreciated the taste and was glad he was no longer a minor and could order to his hearts content.

He half heartedly paid attention to Erica who sat diagonally of him, going over Quidditch tactics with Isaac who sat at the head of the table, even though their first game wouldn’t be held until the end of November. Boyd sitting next to Derek, hardly paid attention either, he was reading his History book instead and drank his butterbeer calmly.

Derek turned to the entrance of the Hog’s Head seconds before the bell above the door chimed. He could smell his sister and Stiles long before they reached the building. They entered the pub arguing as usual. He attempted to look casual as he eavesdropped but as Erica gave him a sly grin, he knew wasn’t doing a very good job.

“I’m just saying that if he wants to cut Quidditch practice short to go on a date with the Argent then he should give me a weeks notice. I mean I’m as much of a captain as he is.” Cora snarled, setting her things down. She sat at the other end of the table while Stiles sat on Erica’s left, putting him in front of Derek.

Derek pushed the two untouched butterbeers in Cora and Stiles’ direction.

“Awesome, new people. Can someone change the subject because if I have to listen to Cora rant one more time about Scott I’m going to hang her over the owlery.”

Cora kicked Stiles under the table. He groaned at the pain and tried to breathe through it. “What the hell? I didn’t even deserve that!”

“You did.” She said.

“As long as we are talking about Quidditch,” Erica interrupted, leaning against Stiles. “How’s Jackson as the new Slytherin Captain.”

Stiles took a sip of his butterbeer. “Nice try Erica, but if it wasn’t for the fangs you would have almost had me fooled. You just don’t have the Slytherin subtlety. I’m not going to give information on Slytherin practices so you can tell your captain.”

Erica shrugged. “Worth a shot.”

“Keep trying.”

“Did you figure out the book yet?” Boyd asked instead.

Stiles backtracked and from his bag pulled out the Moonwalker book that Derek noticed that Stiles took everywhere with him nowadays. “Not even close. Why?”

Boyd grinned and from his own book bag pulled out another book. “Well you mentioned its written from the same period we had that exam on from Ancient Runes last year right?” Stiles nodded. “I took the liberty of ordering this book. It’s an Ancient Runes book to decode writing from that period. It’s not much since even the Runeologist don’t have everything figured out for that time, but it’s something and I thought it could help.”

“Shit.” Stiles grabbed his stool and book to sit between Boyd and Isaac. He flipped through the Ancient Runes textbook. “Boyd this must have cost you a fortune. You didn’t have to.”

“Don’t be an idiot.” Boyd informed. “I asked Derek for the money.”

Stiles leaned over Boyd to look at Derek. Derek shrugged. “He just asked for the money, I didn’t know what he was going to use it for.”

“Thanks. This is going to be a shit load of help.” Stiles flipped through the book. He paused, biting his lip. “Would you actually like to help me with translating the book? You're kind of the only one I know who can really help.”

“Sure, but I can’t read it.”

Stiles began to pull out parchment out of his book. “I already began copying stuff down.”

Boyd took the paper and then his Ancient Runes book and began to flip through it.

“And there goes the nerd duo.” Isaac commented, reclining in his stool.

Derek made no comment. He drank his firewhiskey in silence as the girls and Isaac began to talk. He tried to drag his attention away from Stiles but it was difficult, especially when his scent was making Derek want to pin him down on the table and begin scenting him. But that wasn’t the problem. The problem was that Derek had no idea when Stiles had seamlessly weaved himself with the others. It was almost as if he was pack. He was even starting to smell like it. And don’t even get him started when Cora gave him that stupid bracelet with their pack symbol on it. The freaking idiot was even wearing it right now.

He wondered if Stiles knew the weight of what it meant that Cora had given him that. Cora had accepted Stiles into their pack and Derek should really blame her for it but Derek couldn’t. He found himself associating Stiles with pack too and he guessed it had to with the first day back at school when Cora missed class.

Stiles had been so genuinely concerned for Cora that Derek at first thought Stiles liked her. But that wasn’t right. The way he had approached her screamed of brotherly comfort but more than that, it was there that Derek felt Stiles understood their family. And Derek was unsure how he felt about that. He felt a bit frightened that this outsider who wasn’t even Derek’s Beta was so close to them and willing to risk his life to help them.

But it was actually quite remarkable.

“Awesome, first sentence translated and that only took us what twenty minutes?” Stiles asked, checking his Batman watch. With the watch Erica gave him, Derek was quick to believe that Erica thought of Stiles as pack even before they were pack. The others seemed too as well. The way Boyd was helping Stiles and the way Isaac lazily joked with him. Stiles _was_ pack. _Shit._

“What’s it say?” Isaac asked.

“My name is Rhea Silvia, I write this in hope my descendants learn the way of walking on the moon.”

“That’s it?” Erica asked.

Stiles and Boyd both nodded.

“Rhea Silvia was the one who appointed emissary duties.” Derek said remembering the stories their mother used to tell them about the origins of werewolves.

“Is there anything else on her?”

“No. She gave them their duties but she was never an emissary herself. I know werewolves quickly learned the spell she used and reversed it so emissaries had to follow the Alpha of the pack rather than the other way around. And then after she appointed the emissaries, she went into hiding. No one heard from her.”

“I guess this book is going to tell us what she did.”

“If we begin to translate the book I’m sure it will get easier. Your mother left notes on the margins right? The more we decipher the easier it will get.” Boyd said.

“That implies that my mother’s notes stay consistent throughout the book and if my notes are anything like hers they aren’t going to follow a pattern but, here’s hoping.” Stiles said.

Boyd and Stiles continued working and scanning together the Ancient Rune book. Derek kept glancing over them and was astounded by the intelligence both possessed. Everything that Stiles had copied over looked like gibberish and everything they were translating just looked like scribbles all over the place. He hoped whatever they were doing was going to help.

After another twenty minutes, Erica groaned. No one really looked up at her, except Derek. She was leaning her arms on the table and looking at Stiles, glancing him up and down and smirking. He could smell the faint hint of arousal come from her and he wrinkled his nose at it. That was too much information that he needed to know. He was already far too annoyed that nearly everyone at Hogwarts smelled like arousal, but what else could one expect in a castle full of teenagers.

“I’m bored.” Erica announced. “Who wants to join me to go to Dogweed and Deathcap? I need some rosemary for my herbology project.”

“What herbology project?” Isaac asked dubiously, picking at the snacks at the center of the table he and Cora had brought a few minutes prior.

“Extra credit.”

“Aren’t you at the top of the class?”

“Which is the reason, I’m doing the extra credit. So who wants to join me?”

No one volunteered.

“ _Oh Stiles_ , you shouldn’t have!” Erica exclaimed, standing to her feet, smirking.

“Huh?” Stiles looked up from his book.

“You’re so sweet. Wanting to come with me to the herbology shop.”

“I never—”

“—Never want to let this golden beauty go on her own. Ugh you're a saint.” She went around the table and picked up Stiles, using a lot more force than necessary. Stiles made a squeak. She began to drag him across the pub by the collar of his shirt.

“Wait, my stuff!” Stiles yelped, trying to go back to the others.

“Boyd will gladly pick it up for you. C’mon.”

“No I won’t.” Boyd glared.

Erica glared back. “Fine, Derek, take his stuff.”

Derek sighed. “I’m not going to give into your demands.”

Erica gasped. “Derek!” She grinned wickedly. “I’ll tell the others the other nickname Laura gave you.”

“What other nickname?”

“The one involving a mushroom, a lake, and a baby squirrel.”

Derek’s eyes opened in fright. “I’ll take Stiles’ stuff back to the castle.” Derek volunteered.

“Thanks Derek.” Erica yelled and began dragging Stiles outside.

When they were out in the open, Stiles finally got a breather. Freaking werewolf strength so not fair. Once they passed the Hog’s Head, Stiles turned to Erica in confusion. “Morrell doesn’t give extra credit.”

Erica grinned. “Oh I know.”

Stiles raised a brow. “Ok, let’s play the creeper card. Just promise me you will return this fragile body in original packaging to the castle.”

“Of course. What do you take me for?” She grabbed his wrist and yanked him forward toward the other end of Hogsmeade to Dogweed and Deathcap. As she continued to pull, she let go of his wrist and seamlessly wrapped her hand in his.

Oh.

_Oooooh…._

That made more sense.

And _not_ at the same time.

Stiles felt himself blush as the two walked hand in hand down the walkway. Stiles looked around the village to see if he recognized anyone, but the other students and Hogsmeade villagers barely paid them attention. He didn’t know if he felt relieved by that. He felt his heart thudding against his chest and wondered if Erica could hear it. The way she smiled back at him made it positive that she did.

He didn’t even know Erica felt that way and Stiles frankly didn’t know how to react.

“So uhh…are we still going to the shop then?”

“Yup. It’s always been my favorite store here. The smells bother me a little more now, but its nothing too bad.”

“And my smell?”

“You get used to it. Still reek like mandrake fertilizer though.”

“You really know how to raise a guy’s ego.”

Erica rolled her eyes. Erica pulled him into the store and let go of his hand to examine the things inside. The store was like any herbology shop. There were several shelves of books lining the wall all about plants. The aisles were filled with jars filled with herbs and spices and the store had a backroom for the bigger plants.

Erica went down one aisle, Stiles followed close behind her, still blushing. “So uh what are you thinking of buying?”

“Stinksap from the Mimbulus Mimbletonia.”

“What for?”

“It cures animal wounds. Morrell has made potions to cure werewolves but we were both wondering if this would react in the same way. Ah here it is!” She went over to a shelf that was lined with several jars and vials of plant sap. None of the jars were labeled and Stiles wondered how Erica could distinguish one snotty green sap from another.

Erica made her way over to the cashier, paying for the sap. Erica tucked the tiny vial into her coat pocket and then turned back to Stiles. “Want to go to Zonkos?”

Stiles grinned. “Now you are speaking my language.”

“Of course,” Erica began pulling him out of the store “Everyone knows the way to a man’s heart is through Dungbombs and Nose Biting Teacups.”

“Don’t forget Boxing Telescopes and Extendable Ears.”

Erica snorted and continued to yank them forward.

When they entered Zonko’s, the pair found much amusement trying out everything put on display. Erica had her hair turned a lime green and Stiles was belching bubbles. However, after causing a ruckus with a few fireworks that both had accidentally set off, the pair were kicked out of the store.

When Stiles thought they would be heading back to the castle, Erica yanked him in between two shops. The alley was very narrow and if anyone were to peek, they would hardly be able to see them in the dimly lit alley.

“You know you're allowed to look. Everyone else does.” Erica said, pressing Stiles up against the wall.

“Um what do you mean?” He asked trying to keep up with the conversation and playing along. One always played along with Erica Reyes, it was safer that way.

Erica rolled her eyes playfully. “Ever since the term started. I notice you only look into my eyes.”

“Uh you have very beautiful eyes.”

Erica grinned. “You know what I mean.”

Stiles glanced down very quickly and noticed her low cut crop. He blushed even more and Erica laughed. She placed a delicate hand on his sternum and pressed him against the wall of the shop. Stiles sucked in a breath. Erica looked at him and then looked to his lips where Stiles reflexively licked them. Erica rolled her eyes but then leaned in and Stiles found himself doing the same.

They bumped noses rather harshly and both reeled back laughing and when their chuckles died down they leaned in again.

It was Stiles’ first kiss. He expected Erica to kiss with a ferocity and fire like her personality but her kiss was gentle and consuming. A bit like her old self and Stiles found himself, lifting his hand to place it in her golden hair. He felt Erica smile against the kiss making Stiles smile too. Erica began to kiss more intensely and pressed her body alongside his, her hands wrapped around the back of his neck, tickling the back of his hair.

He placed his other hand on her waist. He couldn’t quite believe he was kissing her. Erica had always been a friend since she helped him second year with the prank and while he held no romantic feelings for her, sharing his first kiss with her just felt right and not awkward as he thought his first kiss would entail. It was rather enjoyable and he tried to ignore what the others would say if they saw him kissing her. He tried to ignore Derek the most, worried that Derek would rip his throat out for defiling his Beta, but he could care less.

Erica was a fantastic kisser even though he had no base for comparison.

He grew more adventurous and bit her bottom lip, but immediately Erica pulled back harshly, gasping. He saw that her eyes had turned their Beta color. She clutched her hands by her head and kneeled over, grunting in pain.

“Erica? Shit! I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Erica groaned, covering her ears.

“Erica?!”

Stiles heard rapid footsteps at the end of the alley. He saw the other werewolves approaching. Stiles raised his hands in defense. “I didn’t do anything! We were kissing and—!” He stopped mid sentence when he saw the others covering their ears and whining.

“What's wrong?” Stiles asked, panicked.

Derek had a furrow between his brows as he looked to Stiles. “Lydia.”

“What?”

“She’s screaming.”

Stiles grew alarmed. “Where is she?”

“By the Shrieking Shack.”

It didn’t take long for Stiles and the others to rush out of the small alley and down the High Road to the Shrieking Shack.

 

|~~***~~|

 

“Jackson. I think this is very quickly going at the top of the list of the most depraved things you’ve done right on top of abusing your prefect duties by confiscating a first year’s cauldron cakes just because you were craving them.” Danny said, pulling his scarf closer to his face.

“It’s not. I’m just worried.” Jackson defended.

“You’re stalking, Lydia. It’s creepy. I have a best friend as a creeper.”

“We aren’t stalking her.” Jackson spat for the hundredth time. “We are checking up on her.”

“Checking up on her implies she is aware by our presence but she isn’t soooo—”

“—Ok fine! We are stalking Lydia. Happy?”

“No, I’m not happy. I want to go to the Three Broomsticks for a cup of warm butterbeer. Not stalk the girl you’ve been in love with since first year.”

Jackson turned a deep shade of red. “I don’t love Lydia! And you didn’t have to come.”

“Yeah, I did. You said, ‘Danny, Lydia is going on a double date with that sick twisted Aiden. We have to go see her now, and yes you have to come otherwise I’ll tell Finstock you are the one who snuck into his office for the firewhiskey.’ I didn’t feel like getting detention because my so called best friend was going to blackmail me, so here I am.”

“Well whatever. I just don’t trust Aiden.”

Jackson heard Danny’s voice actually grow serious. “Why?”

“It’s just a feeling.”

His voice took on a teaseful tone again. “You know, lately you’ve been sort of obsessive toward a large population of the male variety at Hogwarts. Is there something you aren’t telling me, Jackson?”

Jackson shoved his best friend. “Shut up. I just I like to keep tabs on people.”

“Right.”

They continued walking down the road. “If Lydia finds out we did this, you realize we might be sent to the Hospital Wing in a matchbox?”

That made Jackson pause all together. “I’m willing to face the danger for Lydia.”

“Right,” Danny beamed. “Cause you’re in love with her.”

Jackson exploded. “I’m not, can you quit saying that?!”

“Nope. I’m still not done with my servitude under the name of karma as you kept teasing me when you found out I liked Ethan.”

“I teased you cause he was a Gryffindor.”

“Still teasing. So I’m not going to stop.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you love me. I hear you mumble it every night in your sleep.”

Jackson shoved Danny again but couldn’t help the chuckle from deep in his throat.

They stopped at the road where they could see the Shrieking Shack. Jackson saw McCall and Allison making out, which _gross_. But he couldn’t see Lydia anywhere. Where the hell did she go? He tried to peek closer without getting caught, but suddenly he heard a scream.

“Lydia.” Jackson whispered.

He didn’t think twice. He sprinted across the clearing and into the forest where the noise had come from. He felt Danny running behind him and then he saw from the corner of his eye McCall and Allison running into the forest as well.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Lydia was pretending to be interested in what Aiden had to say. She wasn’t entirely sure what he was talking about. It was something about Quidditch, his brother, or probably both. She didn’t care. Aiden wasn’t interesting enough for her. He was attractive, an amazing kisser, and good company. So in other words, he was a good boyfriend to have as an accessory to add to her popularity. She would have felt guilty if not for that fact that Aiden was using her to get popular as well. She had no qualms about it.

Props to him for even catching her attention. Very few boys tended to do that.

So instead of listening to him, she tried to eavesdrop on Allison and Scott’s conversation. She wondered how he was taking it. Hopefully well. The two made a cute couple and she really liked Allison. She deserved to be happy after all she went through.

She turned to her own werewolf. She thought back to the beginning of the term. She was surprised when she saw Aiden. She really had not expected it. It wasn’t that hard to figure out that Deucalion had bit him and his brother, but Lydia didn’t know what that meant yet. And if there was one thing she hated the most was being left in the dark. She desperately wanted to ask Aiden about it but she feared she might put him in danger by knowing.

She didn’t fear for her own safety. Aiden had not given her any indication that he did not have control of his werewolf side. He was nearly the same except he was just slightly a little more aggressive during their makeout sessions. Which was exciting in all ways for Lydia.

She grinned when Aiden wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing his front against her back. “Want to go somewhere private?” He whispered.

She turned in his hold and began to drag him into the Forbidden Forest. They didn’t walk very far just a few feet from the clearing, but enough where the trees hid their presence. Immediately, Aiden had her pinned against one of the trees and was kissing her fiercely.

Lydia kissed back harder, raking her nails across his chest. He made hum of approval and rocked into her tiny frame. She gasped at the sensation pulling away for a moment. When he moved on to kiss her neck, Lydia froze as something gray flickered across her vision. What was that?

“Lydia?” Aiden asked, when Lydia was no longer a participant.

“Did you see that?”

“See what?”

“Something just...”

Aiden sniffed the air discreetly. She saw his confusion in the wrinkle of his brows. The grey passed through her vision again like a shooting star. She pushed Aiden away gently and tried to see into the darkness of the forest. And there it was.

A wispy moving trail of grey led her deeper into the forest. She followed it instinctively. Little did she know, her consciousness left her body standing still beside Aiden. When she left the physical plane, the world around her became drenched in grey and any object and figure around her appeared as smoky wisps of white light. She couldn’t concentrate on them as something kept pulling her closer. She paused when amongst the grey colored leaves a single drop of red contrasted brightly against the ground. She glanced at it strangely and began to follow the drops of red.

Around her, Aiden screamed her name, but Lydia only heard a muffled voice. It wasn’t enough to bring her out of her haze.

She walked deeper into the Forbidden Forest.

The drops of blood got bigger and thicker and less far apart. She was getting closer, to what, she wasn’t sure. Until finally, all she wanted to do was turn back.

In front of her were what must have been fifty bodies lying dead on the ground. They were sprawled in every way imaginable. Some had arrows in their bodies, others looked as if they had impaled themselves with their own claws. It was unbearable to look at when the grey world was stained in red. What was this? What _sick joke was this?_

She tried to find her breath as it latched in her throat until she could no longer hold it back. She screamed and screamed until the world was brought back into a rush of color as she was pushed into her body. The dead ones disappeared.

“LYDIA!”

She heard a familiar voice shout her name. _Jackson?_ What was Jackson doing in the Forbidden Forest? She wanted to ask him this question, but she couldn’t stop screaming. It was as if it was all her body was capable of doing.

Lydia felt her legs give and she fell against the ground, still screaming. No longer in one large belt but in short bouts of hysteria. Arms wrapped around her and Lydia tried to push them off. “Lydia, Lydia, it’s me. What’s wrong?” Jackson asked. “What did you do?” Jackson spat to Aiden.

“I didn’t do anything!” He shouted back.

She heard several other footsteps. She could see Allison, Scott, and Danny surrounding her with their wands out and scanning their surroundings, thinking as if something had attacked her. She could see Stilinski, Derek and his pack coming close and then she saw Stilinski running toward Aiden with a ferocity she had never seen before. She wanted to tell everyone to stop, but her body could not stop shaking and screaming. She had no control over it. Was this what a panic attack felt like? She checked off the symptoms in her head of everything she was feeling and she filled all the criteria. Great, she was having a panic attack. She was out of control of her body. _No._ This was the last thing she wanted. She needed to have control.

Stiles flicked his wand at Aiden. Aiden flew into a random tree and ropes bound his body to the trunk. “What did _you_ do?” Stiles voice was surprisingly dark as he dug his wand under Aiden’s throat.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“What did _you_ do?”

Aiden growled. “I didn’t do anything.” He repeated.

Allison marched over and shoved Stiles out of the way to place her own wand at Aiden’s temple. “You obviously did something!” Allison’s sweet voice was gone. Lydia was only mildly relieved she couldn’t see the darkness over her friend’s face.

“I swear; I didn’t do anything.”

“Stiles, Argent.” Derek reprimanded. “He’s telling the truth.

Stiles clenched his jaw. He stepped back and released the ropes on Aiden. Allison took a few steps back, but her wand remained poised. Aiden knew better than to attack the trained hunter so he stepped close to attack Stiles, but Scott and Cora shielded their Slytherin friend.

Aiden smirked. He peeked over Scott’s shoulder to shout at Stiles. “Next time you point your wand at me I will not hesitate to attack you.”

Derek stepped forward. “Open your mouth again, I dare you. I’ll make you regret threatening anyone here.”

Aiden stepped down and turned to Lydia who was shaking in Jackson’s hold.

Jackson grunted as he picked up Lydia. He balanced her weight as best he could. “I’m going to take her to the Hospital Wing. You and I will talk later.” He told Aiden with an unveiled threat. He left the group with Allison and Danny following behind him.

Everyone turned back to Aiden. It was when all those unaware about werewolves left, that the werewolves all shifted to growl at Aiden.

“Talk now.” Derek ordered. His red eyes left no room for messing around.

“She said she saw something. I don’t know what she saw but she was blank for nearly ten minutes and then she started screaming. It was painful to hear and I mean that in the literal sense.”

“What do you think she saw?” Scott asked.

“It could have been anything.” Isaac spoke. “The forest is filled with stuff we don’t even know about.”

“So now what?” Erica questioned, leaning against a tree.

“Let’s go back to the castle.” Derek ordered. All of them, except Aiden, began to turn back, but Derek stopped to look at the lone wolf. “Tell Deucalion to get ready for us.”

Aiden smirked. “Funny. He said to tell you the same.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important News: 
> 
> I started school again. Yippie! I love all my classes but being an English and Sociology person I have tons and tons of reading. Which means, I'm not going to be uploading as quickly as I have been. If I happen to be posting less, don't fret. No matter what, I will not abandon this story. I am pouring all my heart and soul into it that I'm not going to leave it just because things get in the way.
> 
> Other note. This chapter took me a long time to write because I had a lot of trouble writing it. I recently saw someone I knew get stabbed to death, and writing the scene with Lydia looking at the dead bodies got to me in which I had a few anxiety attacks. So I'm just warning you that if my chapters have gore and violence it might take me a little longer to write, but I'll still get it down. 
> 
> Sorry this chapter is still kind of a filler. But tell me what you thought of Lydia's Banshee powers? I will be mixing Banshee lore from HP and teen wolf and stuff I've researched on my own. Tell me what you thought of Derek's inner monologue. And please don't hate me for the Erica/Stiles kiss! It needs to happen. 
> 
> Please review.


	23. Repressed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia gets therapy, Jackson is the usual douche, and Stiles and Derek build a course for some puppies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sexual content in this chapter.

On Monday morning, Derek and his Betas, and Stiles sat together at the Hufflepuff table in the Great Hall. All of them were talking in harsh, hushed whispers on what had occurred on Saturday in Hogsmeade. Stiles was the one who noticed that Lydia was missing from the Ravenclaw table. He hoped the poor girl was fine. He was growing more worried for her.

“What are we going to do about the twins?” Isaac questioned.

“Someone needs to keep on eye on them. I’ll keep an eye on Ethan and Stiles can watch Aiden.” Cora volunteered grabbing some toast. .

Derek shook his head. “No, it’s too dangerous. We don’t know what they are capable of now that we know for certain the two are working for Deucalion. They haven’t caused trouble yet. We should continue on as normal and keep our distance from them.”

“They have caused trouble, Aiden attacked Lydia.” Cora placed her butter knife on the table. .

“He didn’t.” Derek said. “The poor kid was just as lost on what happened to her as we are.”

“I agree with Derek,” Boyd commented, reaching for the ketchup to add to his eggs. “It’s best we keep our distance. The less we know about them, the less they know about us.”

Stiles saw the point in Derek’s and Boyd’s reasoning, but he also agreed with Cora. The twins were starting to become unlikely dangerous players and they needed to be watched, lest someone get hurt or killed. He would speak to Cora in private and arrange some safe way to keep an eye on them so Derek wouldn’t have to know.

“Jackson’s here.” Erica, who had been keeping watch, whispered.

Everyone turned to the entrance of the Great Hall. Jackson came in with messy hair, skewed tie, rumpled clothes, and bags under his eyes. Stiles watched him carefully as he walked to the Slytherin table and sat next to Danny. The Slytherin boy had not slept in the Slytherin dorms for the past two nights. He had spent them dutifully in the Hospital Wing by Lydia’s side, refusing to leave her alone.

“What’s he saying?” Stiles asked the werewolves.

“Lydia just got released from the Hospital Wing.” Cora said, trying to hear. “He says that Lydia told him she’s fine, but he knows better.”

Everyone got quiet and stole a glance at Jackson who lazily picked at his breakfast food. Danny was looking at him with sympathy. When they turned away, the bell rang and all of them sighed. “We’ll talk about this later.” Derek said, gathering his things.

Cora left to History of Magic, the Hufflepuffs had a free period so they headed to the library to finish on homework they failed to complete during the weekend, while Stiles went to Herbology.

Herbology on Monday mornings was shared with Ravenclaws, but when Stiles arrived, Lydia was not there. He sat by Danny and leaned over him to speak with Jackson. “Where’s Lydia?” He asked.

Jackson blinked sleepily at him. “Went back to the dorms to rest.”

Stiles nodded and watched as Morrell walked into the classroom. She placed her bag on the desk and rifled through it, passing back everyone’s essay on self-fertilizing shrubs. Stiles had half-assed the assignment and was remarkably surprised that Morrell had given him a decent grade. But she had left a note on the side saying, _Next time, you decide to work on assignment the day its due, make sure you don't spill the breakfast pumpkin juice on it again._ And beside the note, she circled with her quill all the splotches Stiles had left. He chuckled and stuffed the essay back in his bag.

“Ok, everyone today we will be working with Chinese-Chomping Cabbages, please put on your dragonhide gloves and meet by Herbology Greenhouse #3. Everyone followed her orders and headed to the Greenhouse.

By the time Stiles exited class, the cabbages had chomped through his gloves and sunk their teeth in Stiles’ fingers that he found himself sucking on the cuts to relieve the sting. He expected Jackson to crack a joke about it, but Jackson seemed subdued and tired that Stiles even felt weird initiating any form of irritation from the other.

He began heading with Danny and Jackson to Double Potions that they shared with the Gryffindors. Aiden trailed behind them, speaking to Matt, and Stiles tried to ignore him but keep a close eye on him at the same time. As he began to head down to the dungeons though, he felt someone grab his arm and yank him to the side.

He squealed in fright but calmed down when he saw that it was Erica. When he realized it was just Erica and _only Erica_ he began to turn red, remembering the kiss. “Hey.” Stiles said awkwardly.

“Hey, let’s make this quick I have class in a bit, k.” She said impatiently, tilting her head to the side as she usually did when trying to appear superior.

“Ok, what’s up?”

“The kiss.” She grimaced.

“Uhh…”

“You’ve been kind of avoiding me after it and I kind of just want to ask about your feelings, even though I really don’t want to.”

Stiles eyes opened wide and he felt his stomach drop. He didn’t want to hurt Erica’s feelings, but she deserved to know. Also, the sooner she knew, the less likely the chance she would come at him with her claws if she found out he was faking. “Erica about that, you see I don’t have...I mean I like you and all...but I just don’t see you in—”

Erica gasped with a smile, “—Oh thank God!”

“What?”

“I thought you liked me!”

“Really, cause I was getting the distinct vibe that you liked me.”

“I do, well did. I used to have the hugest crush on you fourth year but not anymore.” _Anymore?_ What the hell did he do to get that reaction? “I just wanted to get my first kiss over with. I mean I’m fifteen, you know. And I wanted to share it with a boy I trusted.”

“You have Derek, Isaac, and Boyd at your disposal.”

“Oh God, can you imagine kissing Derek? The guy would throw me to the ground and break my skull the minute I made contact with him.” She had a point. Stiles couldn’t imagine Derek kissing anybody willingly. “And Isaac is like  brother and well Boyd is well he’s—”

Stiles grinned, his tongue peeking through. “Yeah?” He waggled his eyebrows.

Erica glared. She shoved him brutally against the wall and dug her claws against his chest. “Shut up, or I’ll dig my claws in your lungs.”

Stiles chuckled nervously. “Oh you gotta love those werewolf threats.”

“You tell anyone!” She warned.

“I won’t. Does he know?”

Erica retracted her claws and stepped back. “No.”

Stiles bounced on his heels. “My lips are sealed.”

“Thanks Batman.” She flirted, platonically.

“No problem, Catwoman.”

“Ah, I’ve see you have been reading.”

“Of course, can't disappoint my favorite golden person in all of Hogwarts.”

“Don't let Isaac hear you, you’ll break his heart.” She pouted dramatically.

“Tell him, he’s my favorite cheekbone boy.”

“You’ll have him bragging for weeks. No one in the Hufflepuff dorm would be able to deal with him. Plus, I’m positive Boyd would kill him.”

“Really? Boyd seems like he would be too lazy for that.”

“You’re right. I would do it as long as Derek didn’t get to him first.”

“So much for pack love.”

“We’re pack, not perfect rays of sunshine despite being a Hufflepuff. Anyway, how is Scott taking it?”

Stiles was confused. She had a bigger knack for changing conversations abruptly than Stiles did. “Taking what?”

“That you’re pack now.”

Stiles spluttered dramatically. “I’m _what?_ ”

Erica rolled her eyes. She firmly grabbed Stiles’ wrist and pulled his shirt sleeve up to his elbow to show his Batman watch and the bracelet Cora had given him.

“ _Oh!_ That’s just a present from Cora.” Erica’s eyebrow went up with confusion, as she let him go. Stiles saw where her mind was headed. “ _No!_ We aren’t anything. She just gave it to me.” He then proceeded to tell her what had happened on the first day back and Erica leaned against the wall, placing a heeled foot on it, he tried to ignore how her skirt rode up a few inches. _Hey!_ He might not have feelings for her but there was no denying she was one of the most gorgeous women Hogwarts had to offer.

“And Derek didn’t say anything about his little sister giving you that?”

“Nope.”

Erica scrunched her face. “Weird.”

“So, I’m pack?”

Erica grinned. “Well you most certainly smell like it.”

“What does pack even smell like?”

Erica shrugged. “Home, safety, warmth, sugar and spice and everything nice.” She groaned when Stiles gave her a confused look. “And oh my God, remind me to give you an entire lecture on muggle pop culture.”

“After OWLs, we can arrange one.” He said distractedly and then got quiet.

“What?”

“Nothing, just trying to wrap my head around when I started smelling like pack.”

“Does it matter?”

It did. It really did, but Stiles didn’t know why. “Not really.” He knew she could hear the lie, but Erica didn’t press upon it.

“Then don’t worry about it. You’re pack so we keep each other safe and happy. I don’t see how that’s a problem, especially now all things considering.”

“Right.” He wondered what Scott would say to all this. Would he hate him? Scott was turning like him from last year where he despised the Hales and at this moment, that was not a good change of character to have. “Shit, it’s been fifteen minutes, class started like ten minutes ago.”

“Let’s skip it.” Erica volunteered.

“Can’t. I have Potions with the Gryffindors and I’m Cora’s Potions partner. She would kill me if I left her alone.”

“Yeah, then you better go. See you at lunch.”

Stiles waved the girl off and headed to the dungeons where immediately, Professor Harris took away ten points from Slytherin and gave him detention. The utter prick. He sat beside Cora and looked over her notes to see what he had missed. It wasn’t much and he copied them down short form and tried to listen to Harris. It wasn’t very helpful.

“Stop twitching.” Cora whispered.

“You know that is utterly impossible for me, right?”

“Then twitch less.”

He tried, he really did but as he turned around to look at Scott. The other boy had his nostrils flared and was glaring at him from across the room. Allison who had been sitting beside him, tried to get his attention.

Shit, could Scott smell it? Could he smell that he was part of Derek’s pack now? _Fuck._

The class began to gather ingredients to start the potion that Harris had written on the board. Cora and him began to mix them together and really they should have known better when they partnered for this year. Both of them were rubbish at Potions. Their potion immediately exploded in Cora and Stiles’ face making their faces black.

He turned to Cora and proceeded to laugh at the sight of her face. She stuck her tongue at him and Stiles laughed so hard he didn’t even care that Harris took ten more points from Slytherin.

_Fuck it._

Cora was acting more like a friend than Scott was and if that was what pack meant, then Stiles could care less what Scott thought.

 

|~~***~~|

 

It had been four days since Lydia had her panic attack in the Forbidden Forest and really she was ready to put it behind her. It was just a fluke really. But no, apparently it was school policy that every student’s problems became the school’s so she was forced to endure attempted therapy sessions with her head of house.

Professor Harris’ office though was serving as a nice distraction as he driveled on about pointless psycho mumbo jumbo. He had several potion cauldrons all across the room, she counted about twenty-three in which nineteen of them were brewing. Really, she was impressed with Professor Harris’ skill. Potion ingredients in flasks lined the entire wall that had several shelves. She wanted to examine a few since she knew a few of the ingredients were only given to Potion Masters.

“Ms. Martin please pay attention.” Professor Harris sighed.

Lydia mimicked his sigh. _“What?”_

“You need to tell us what you saw.”

“I saw nothing as I have said for now counting the thirty-fifth time.”

“Then why did you scream?”

“I had a panic attack.”

“At least you admit that.”

“Can we just get this over with? I’m sure you can write a note to Headmaster Deaton that you filed this case over and done with it. It would save us both the trouble.”

“Ms. Martin that would be breaking school rules.”

Lydia smiled. “I wasn’t aware that you followed them.”

“Excuse me?”

“Lacewing flies, powdered bicorn horn, fluxweed by that cauldron there. I would say you are making a Polyjuice Potion, which is illegal to brew on school premises regardless of your Potion Mastery status. And by the window there which I’m guessing is being brewed by moonlight, is surrounded by wolfsbane, the wing bone of a thestral, wings of a forest fairy, and blood. And all of that together who knows what you’re making, but if you're including a creature of death and blood, it can’t be legal either.”

Harris clenched his jaw. “This stays between us.”

“No.”

“I will cancel our therapy sessions.”

“Great. Consider it forgotten.”

“But you will still continue therapy, with Morrell.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Then I will inform your parents of the matter on what occurred in the Forbidden Forest. We have kept it confidential on your wishes, but I’m willing to include them in this conversation.”

Lydia huffed. “Why are you so insistent on me doing this?”

“Because Deaton said that if you get therapy, I get a raise, he never clarified that _I_ had to run the session.”

Lydia rolled her eyes. She honestly wanted this to be done with it, but she would rather continue this stupid farce than have her parents know. They always made things worse. “Fine.”

“Good.” Professor Harris began to get a blank parchment and wrote down a note most likely for Morrell.

He handed it to Lydia and Lydia took it with an exasperated huff. She grabbed her things and left his office to head to Morrell’s. Might as well get this over with.

When she arrived at the Head of Hufflepuff’s office, she immediately noticed the lack of personal touch in the room. Even Professor Harris had a pictures of friends and family along the walls, but Morrell had nothing. Not even a cliche photograph. That was strange.

“I’m gonna guess you finally cracked Professor Harris,” Morrell smiled softly, as Lydia handed her the note.

“Yup.” Lydia sighed, sitting in the chair by Morrell’s desk. She looked around the office, trying to find anything to use against Morrell to get out of this therapy session as well, but really there was nothing, but a desk with student papers and teacher curriculum, three chairs, a small fireplace, and another door that led to Morrell’s living quarters.

Lydia waited a moment for Morrell to set things aside. “All right, let’s get straight to the point. What did you see in the Forbidden Forest, Ms. Martin.”

“Nothing.” She smiled. “I had a panic attack.”

“Ok.”

“That’s it?”

“You saw nothing and I’m willing to believe you. The Forbidden Forest is forbidden for many reasons, Ms. Martin. Not just because of the creatures that reside there but the forest itself carries very ancient magic. It is honestly plausible that your magic might have connected with it and the forest slipped you in a manic state. It is actually quite common, I remember three instances occurring of it when I was at Hogwarts.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what happened. Now can I go.”

“But the forest leaves a mark on those it touches and you are completely free. So this goes back to you.  You did see something but perhaps it wasn’t there for the others to see.”

“What do you mean?”

“Professor Blake had informed me she inquired young Aiden Twine on the matter and he says he saw you enter a trance like state. You were there but not completely.”

“A trance? Your joking right?”

“No. It could be you had a vision.”

“Like Divination? Really? You believe in that? Divination is the worst course this school has to offer. It’s a joke, nobody can see the future. There have been countless studies done to prove that Divination is a bunch of lies, so if you are trying to tell me that I had a vision, I’m leaving.”

“Then humor me.” Morrell stood to her feet and retreated to her room, closing the door behind her. She returned with a glass jar with a plant inside. “This is—”

“—Atropa Belladonna otherwise known as Deadly Nightshade.” Lydia answered.

“You are very bright Ms. Martin. Can you tell me what its used for?”

“Its a plant that people believe causes witches and wizards to get closer to the sight. Its utter bollocks. The only thing its good for is to polish brooms and help them fly.”

“It’s also used to see if you possess the gift of sight. Would you like to see how it works?”

Lydia pouted. “If I agree to this, can we both agree this will be the first and last therapy session that I will have?”

“Of course.”

Morrell took out the plant delicately. She cut the plant into nine pieces and laid them out on the desk in front of Lydia. Morrell then went to get a pot and with her wand added drops of water to the plant.

“All right, Ms. Martin I want you to gloss your hand over the pieces one by one without touching them. Slowly.”

Lydia rolled her eyes, but did as she was told.”Place two of your fingers in the water and then take them out and place them here.” Lydia did as she was told and placed her fingers in the new pot that Morrell had set out that was filled with oil. “Now remove them and gloss your hands over the pieces in the opposite direction.”

Lydia again did it and she jumped a bit as the last piece of belladonna stuck to her fingers.

“It seems you don’t posses the sight at all. The first piece indicates nothing and the last piece here indicates complete sight, its a spectrum of how strong your sight is.”

“I’m sorry, but really?” Lydia laughed.

Morrell quirked a brow and did the process herself. Lydia watched as the third piece stuck to her two fingers. “I posses the sight minimally. The best Divination witches haven’t gotten past the seventh piece.”

“So then this proves, I saw nothing.” Lydia said. “I really just had a panic attack.”

“But that’s where you're wrong, Ms Martin.” Morrell gathered the supplies and placed the belladonna back in its glass jar. She sat back down and crossed her legs. “Because I know you. You are the brightest witch Hogwarts has ever laid its eyes upon. You are calm and collected and if you were ever prone to a panic attack, you would deny it. You wouldn’t be telling others you lost control of yourself for even a moment, its far beneath you. You thrive upon attention, but only attention that puts you in a good light. This entire matter has cast you as the talk of Hogwarts and not in a good way from what I’ve heard in the hallways. If you could have, you would have avoided this entire situation all together. So, you saw something in the forest, not something corporeal, not by the forest alone, or by the gift of sight. You saw something only a person like you could see. So what was it?”

Lydia glared at the other woman and bit her tongue. “Are you really certified to say this to me? I could have my father’s best lawyers sack you for belittling a student.”

“But you wouldn’t, because you're dying to tell someone what you saw.” Morrell said calmly. “And its eating you slowly and it will continue to until you see it again and that is that last thing you want. So I’ll ask again Ms. Martin. What. Did. You. See?”

Lydia looked away from the other woman. She debated telling her, but really what was the harm. It was just a stupid vision. It didn’t mean anything, and if it did. She had no part in it. There would be no merit lost from this, only really her piece of mind. She need catharsis and Morrell was giving her an outlet.

“I saw werewolves.”

Morrell scrunched her brows as if that was the last thing she expected.

“There were about fifty of them, I didn’t really count but they were all dead. That’s what I saw.”

Morrell was silent as if in thought and then after a long moment, she breathed deeply through her nose. “Well, Ms. Martin I can guarantee you that what you saw must have been the forest playing tricks on you.”

“I thought you said the forest leaves a mark.”

“Sometimes the mark isn’t visible.” Morrell lied obviously. Why was the woman lying? “Now, that we have settled that matter. You are free to go and continue your reign on the school.”

Lydia gathered her things and left without another word. What the hell was that? She turned back at the closed door. Morrell knew what she saw and she seemed calm about it. People were not calm when someone mentioned death. It just wasn’t possible. So why the hell did Morrell lie?

As Lydia began to walk to the Ravenclaw tower, she already had a strong feeling on what it was. It had been plaguing her mind for a while on what she was, and now, Morrell knew it too.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Jackson had just finished Quidditch Practice and was walking around the Hogwarts castle. His team had complained that he had worked them too hard, but Jackson consoled them saying it could have been worse. Really, he could have them practice in the pouring rain but he chose not to, well that was an outright lie. He wanted to practice in the rain but the stupid Gryffindor Captains had booked those days for the Quidditch pitch. Freaking Gryffindorks.

He was about to head to the library to catch up on the reading that every professor just seemed to be piling on, but as he turned down the next corridor, he saw Lydia.

She was walking by herself, which was odd. She always had her Ravenclaw entourage behind her. He caught up with her and gave her a smile.

“Hey Lydia.”

“Hey.”

“Where you going?”

“Huh?”

“Where are you going?”

“Uh, nowhere just walking around.”

“Are you ok?”

“I’m fine.”

“And when girl says she’s fine she—”

“—By Morgana’s power, I swear Jackson if you finish that misogynistic sentence.” Lydia threatened.

Jackson gave a soft smile. “There she is. Now, c’mon what’s up?”

“Just thinking about what Professor Morrell said.”

“I thought you said you finished therapy with her a few days ago.”

Lydia continued walking and Jackson followed. “I did, but still thinking. Try it sometime, you can’t just be a pretty face.”

“Funny. Thinking about what?”

She didn’t answer.

Jackson groaned. “C’mon, I’m not in the mood to fucking play twenty questions here. Just spit it out already.”

Lydia huffed and began walking faster. But Jackson was going to have none of that. “Hey.” He grabbed the bend of her elbow and pulled her back. Lydia glared with the intensity that would make any basilisk proud. “What happened?”

Lydia didn’t back down. “Nothing. Now let me go.”

Jackson checked if he could push his luck. He pressed Lydia against the wall to try to make her talk, but her stare got more venomous. “Jackson.” She warned.

“If you don’t tell me what happened, I will talk to your parents.”

“Why does everyone think they are free to use that against me?” Lydia seethed. “How would you feel if I talked to yours? Oh wait, they’re dead.”

Jackson’s grip loosened on Lydia. He couldn’t believe she was resorting to those tactics. Whatever had happened to her in the forest must have shaken her badly.  “Take that back.” He seethed, getting in her face.

“I can take back death Jackson.”

“You know what I mean. Take it back.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’m sorry, now let me go.”

“Not until you tell me what happened.”

“Why? You never paid an interest to me before. Why now?”

“Lydia, you know that’s not true. I’ve always been there for you.” They both knew it, both of them had been there for each other in their worse times.

“No, you’ve been there for you. I’m the most popular girl in school and you use me as a tool to get popular and now that I no longer give you the time of day, you want my attention back. Too bad, Jackson. You took too long. I don’t need you and I most certainly don’t need this. So let me go before I reach for my wand.”

Jackson had felt multiple urges to punch Lydia in the face before, but nothing like this. His hands shook on her arms. He wanted to call a bluff, but Lydia was not joking. He pushed back roughly, slamming Lydia further into the wall. “Fine. Go fuck Aiden, that’s all you’re good for nowadays.”

He left the girl alone in the corridor and continued his journey to go to the library. He was literally fuming with rage and it was a stupid reason for it. He was frustrated by no ends because Lydia was frustrated. He wanted to scream. He hated when she got like this. It was beyond maddening.

He breathed deeply in and out as he approached the library.

Setting his things down at an empty table, he took a few minutes to calm down before pulling out his books. Finally, getting some sense of composure, he opened his eyes that he hadn’t realized he closed. Opening them, he saw the Hales a few tables down. Both of them were studying, if their concentrated faces said anything.

Alright fine, from here on out he was going to grow up. He wasn’t going to follow Lydia any longer; she wouldn’t be there to hold him back from making his own decisions. He would finally be able to achieve what he wanted without worrying about Lydia’s safety.

He grabbed his things and then approached their table.

The pair looked at him curiously as Jackson leaned closed to Derek. He placed his hand on the elder teen’s shoulder, squeezing it as an extra threat. “ _I know what you are, Hale_.” He smirked as he saw both their shocked faces.

He stood straight and walked out of the library. The plan was now in motion.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Stiles was minding his own business strangely enough, but he was catching up on some needed snooze in the Transfiguration courtyard. Not the best place, considering the amount of noise passing by, but it beat the noise of listening to Cora rant about Scott. And it most certainly beat Scott’s glares he had been receiving all throughout the castle. He could have always gone back to his dorm, but Matt had brought a girl and _ew._ Yeah, he wasn’t going to stay for that.

“Stiles.”

Opening his eyes, Stiles jumped back, his head knocking against the back of the tree as Derek was in his face. “Fuck!” Stiles seethed looking at the Hales. “Can we all agree you two need a bell?”

“Jackson.” Derek said.

Stiles rubbed the back of his head. “Use your words, Derek.”

“Jackson knows.”

 _Seriously could he more vague?_ “Knows what?”

Cora groaned behind Derek. “Are you really that daft? Jackson knows about _us_.”

“Us as in?”

“ _Yes_.” Both Hales said in tandem.

“And your coming to me because?”

“Deaton is nowhere to be found and Morrell is busy. And you are the only one close enough to get to Jackson.” Derek answered.

“Well what do you want me to do? Kill him?” No one made a noise. “You’re joking.” Silence. “Oh sweet Merlin you aren’t. I can’t kill Jackson, just cause he knows.”

“We don’t know what he will do with that information.” Derek said.

“Yeah in case you forgot, Jackson’s family is highly influential. They could have us killed.” Cora said.

Stiles looked up at them. “Ok, wait, back up. First of all, how sure are you that he knows?”

“Approached us in the library not too long ago, whispered menacingly. ‘I know what you are Hale’.” She mimicked his voice while sitting down. Derek sat as well.

“Great, Jackson, nice one on the creeper scale. We’ll I’ll figure something out.”

“Like what?” Derek asked.

“Talk?”

“Talk.” Derek narrowed his eyes.

“Ok sorry that doesn’t please your almighty werewolf Alpha-ness. I’ll make sure to tie him to a chair while I threaten him with my non-existent teeth and claws.” Stiles mimicked a growl in Derek’s direction.

Derek rolled his eyes. “Just get it done. We need to start planning for the lunar eclipse.”

“Ok, I’m on it.”

He rubbed the bridge of his nose, thinking. He pulled out his notebook. He added Jackson to the list. As he finished writing the name, Cora snatched the notebook on him.

“Why is there an entire data sheet on me?”

“Um...”

Cora pulled open the notebook more when she realized that Stiles had spellotaped more pages. The pages tumbled out until they hit the ground. “And several on Derek.”

Derek took the notebook from Cora without asking. He scanned his notes and turned back to Stiles. “How much have you been planning?” Derek questioned in disbelief.

“A lot. During the summer I did research on Deucalion, Kali, and Ennis. Sneaking into the Auror files, I learned what type of styles the three had. Kali is aggressive but calculating and apparently she’s an expert duelist. It was the reason the Aurors took forever to take her down. Ennis relies on brute strength but is very slow, but according to the reports has Cruciatus listed as his go to spell. And Deucalion he’s the big bad wolf we have to be worried about. But other than that we are going to do fine, I mean if you count the other fifty werewolves most likely going to kill us.”

Both Hales looked at him unimpressed with his sarcastic quips.

Cora swiped the notebook back from her brother and began to read his notes as well. “Cora agility ten, strength four? What is this?”

“I’ve been doing observations while watching you guys train. I set numbers on how good you are in that field in comparison to the others. You and Isaac are the fastest so you get a ten. But if I compare you to Boyd who's the strongest you rank as a four. I have other stuff in there like defense, magic, magic defense, accuracy…”

“Yeah but what are the numbers for?”

“Well I’m trying to place your score with someone else so they complement well. So if you were in a team with Isaac and your sister you guys would be able to take down Kali. Hypothetically speaking as it doesn’t account for outside variables. But theoretically speaking if it was just you three and just her I’m sure you can take her down. Werewolves tend to be stronger when they fight together anyway, right? Unless, I’m presuming because I’m just going off with when I saw Derek and Scott take Laura down.”

Cora guffawed. “You took Laura down?”

“With Scott,” Derek begrudgingly said.

Stiles smiled. “Yeah it was totally awesome you should have been there. Which reminds me, your sister is helping right?”

Derek nodded.

“Great, because I spent a lot of time on her data sheet too.”

“Why is there so much on me?” Derek asked, taking the notebook once more to read over the notes. Stiles snatched before he could read much further. He turned a faint shade of red as he stuffed the notebook at the bottom of his backpack. Most of the notes on Derek had been Stiles ranting of how aggravating Derek could be and he didn’t want the older teen to read that. He was sure Derek would pin him to the wall like usual.

Cora seemed to be unaware of Stiles’ panicked state as she leaned over to grab Stiles’ wrist. He was pulled harshly over. What was with werewolves and thinking they could just manhandle him? “Shit, I have class in five minutes. See you guys at dinner.” Cora gathered her things and left quickly.

Leaving Stiles alone with Derek… _awkward..._

“So um yeah, want to go over more plans?” Stiles asked, not really knowing how to interact with the older Hale when there was no one else around to act as a buffer.

“Actually, I was going to head to the forest to set up training for the Betas.”

“Oh, so I’ll head back to the dorms then.” Stiles said, standing up. Derek yanked him by his wrist as he stood up. He let go and then shoved him gently toward the direction of the forest. “You know you could have just asked if you wanted some help.”

Derek shoved him again and while Stiles couldn’t see him, he knew Derek was rolling his eyes.

They entered the forest and Stiles set his bags down. “Alright almighty Alpha. What do you have planned?”

“Obstacle course.”

Stiles laughed. “Really an obstacle course for the puppies?”

Derek made a face at the name. “Yeah.”

“Why? I mean not that the training by beating each other senseless with a dummy isn’t a good idea, but what does the obstacle course accomplish?”

“My mom used to do them.” Stiles paused and put on his straight serious face. Derek never talked about his family. “It brings the pack together and it teaches them things you can’t teach with just fighting, like being quiet for one, being precise, quick, and relying on other werewolf senses instead of just strength. They’ve been relying on strength too heavily, we can’t have that.”

“Why?”

“The lunar eclipse. It dulls strength and magic but not other abilities.”

“Ok, so we create an obstacle course to test other stuff. Gotcha.” Stiles stepped back. “What do you have in mind though?”

Derek began casting spells and Stiles stood back awkwardly. Derek formed this barb wire thing and then looked to Stiles.

“Go get my bag.” Derek instructed.

“I’m not your servant.”

“ _Get my bag, Stiles_.”

Stiles huffed, but retrieved it anyway.

“Inside there is a jar of wolfsbane. Since I can’t touch it, I need you to ground it and sprinkle it on the wire.”

Stiles grabbed the jar and grounded the contents with a spell. “Isn’t that a bit harsh?”

“It will teach them to be careful.”

“Fair enough.” Stiles stated.

Stiles helped with the remainder of the obstacle course. In between trying to figure out how to make the scent of wolfsbane change from one magical ring to another, he could see from the corner of his eye Derek watching him.

He paused in his spellwork. “Um…” Stiles trailed awkwardly.

“How do you activate the red lights?”

“Why?”

“They can help on the lunar eclipse.”

“Oh.” Stiles went back to work. “I’m..not too keen on using that.”

Derek didn’t ask why, as Stiles expected, but his look did. Upon first meeting him, Derek was a giant boulder of no emotion but now...well Stiles’ didn’t know how to put it. Derek’s face was more open around him. He wasn’t sure if it was because Derek felt more comfortable around him or it was because Stiles was just getting better at reading him. He kind of wanted to say both only for that fact that as Stiles got more comfortable around Derek, the more the other would talk.

“Do you remember back in September when I had a panic attack in the Shrieking Shack? Well the reason for that was because I finally figured out what those red lights were. It’s a protection spell, I think. Protection spells tend to leave a signature by the caster and well each time the red lights came up, my mother’s magic did too. The red lights are activated when I’m under intense stress or panic and if there is a werewolf in the vicinity...”

“It attacks all of them.” Derek finished.

“Yeah. I think my mom made the spell target only werewolves though. She somehow knew I was going to involve myself with them and she wasn’t quite fond of werewolves, at least from the stories she told me.” Stiles felt his heartbeat race in embarrassment. He used to only tell Scott such things about his mom. Telling someone else felt...satisfying.

“And you’re still helping, why?”

Stiles shrugged. “Because this is important. I think my mom would forgive me for that.”

Derek scrutinized Stiles for one long moment. Stiles felt fidgety but didn’t say anything.

“Thanks,” Derek murmurred. The expression was more than just helping the obstacle course. Stiles smirked.

He helped for the remainder of the the two hours. They didn’t talk much, well Derek didn’t. Stiles hummed songs from the Cornish Pixies, made grunts of frustration when a spell didn’t go his way, or just breathed too loudly, much to Derek’s annoyance and Stiles’ amusement. When they finished, Stiles looked at their job well done. “So, when are you training the pups?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Cool. Can’t wait to see their faces.” Stiles grinned, but then out of nowhere, Derek placed his hand on Stiles’ mouth and was dragging him away. Stiles hummed on Derek’s iron grip.

“Hush.” Derek whispered, pressing Stiles against a tree.

Stiles looked at him like he was mad.

And then he heard it.

Thunk.

Thunk.

It shook the ground and it sounded like someone was dragging their feet.

Stiles tried to peek over Derek’s shoulder.  He saw a Forest Troll a few feet away from them. Stiles eeped, and Derek pressed closer to him to hide them in the shadows. Their chest were pressed flushed against each other.

The Forest Troll didn’t look like was going anywhere though. He approached their obstacle course with curiosity. He picked up one of the logs they had placed and then sat down with a thunk. The ground shook.

Stile turned to Derek and saw him holding his breath while his eyes were heavily dilated. Right, he smelled like goblin piss to werewolves. He almost forgot about that. He felt especially bad, since Derek would have to deal with it for what looked like a long time.

Ten minutes passed in silence, other than the occasional grunt from the troll.

Derek had taken his hand off Stiles’ mouth and had pressed both arms flat on either side of Stiles’ head, caging him in. Stiles stared. Derek’s eyes were scrunched tight and he looked like he was holding back something. Derek then let out a small groan and tucked his face by Stiles’ neck. His stubble scraped against Stiles’ neck. Stiles’ gasped at the sensation and he could swear he heard Derek sniff. He tried to take back the loud noise but it was too late.

The Forest Troll heard it. He stood up quickly and then began walking quickly toward them.

Both of them abandoned their hiding place and began to pull back. Well, Derek had gripped Stiles’ arm and was pulling him further away.

But then they heard a loud grunt from their left.   
Their heads snapped. Another Forest Troll was walking toward them.

“Derek…” Stiles warned, pulling out his wand.

Forest Trolls were dense creatures literally and figuratively. Stiles knew if he aimed a spell at one of them, it would only anger them.

“Run!” Derek said, pushing Stiles back.

“What? Are you crazy?” Stiles screeched.

The Forest Trolls came faster. Derek crouched low and roared. It startled the trolls for a few seconds but they took the noise as competition instead. So the trolls roared back at Derek and began to run in their direction.

Stiles took several steps back while Derek remained in place, his features shifting. He growled again, but the trolls didn’t seem to like that. They swiped at Derek with their large hands. Derek dodged one of them but the second troll swiped a little too quickly and grabbed Derek. Derek was lifted off the ground and tried to break free, but even werewolf strength couldn’t match a troll’s brute force.

Stiles panicked.

This wasn’t good. He looked around the forest and got an idea. “ _Diffindo!_ ” The trees above the trolls made a groaning noise and then a second later broke off. Several heavy branches came tumbling down. The trolls stared stupidly up at them. The branches fell on the trolls, knocking them out.

Stiles rushed forward. He levitated several branches and threw them several feet, looking for Derek in the mess.

He heard a groan under him. He lifted the large branch off Derek’s stomach with his wand. Derek groaned again. Stiles pulled Derek up, sliding his arms around him so they could both start running. When they got back to the edge of the forest, Stiles watched distastefully as Derek lifted his shirt.

He felt like vomiting.

One of his ribs had come clean through his chest and Derek was forcing it back inside.

“Oh, that’s disgusting.” Stiles retched.

“You can always look away.”

“Are you kidding? That’s the most disgusting thing I’ve seen. I have to look at it.”

Derek made no comment, grunting as his body tried to heal.

“We seem to forget the Forbidden Forest is forbidden for a reason,” Stiles muttered, sagging against a tree.

“Yeah.”

“Still training the pups tomorrow?”

“Yup.”

“Awe-some. I’ll be there.”

Derek snorted.

The next morning, Stiles tucked his Slytherin scarf closer to his face as he walked down to the Forbidden Forest. It was way too early, but Stiles understood that they needed to do this before classes. When he got there, Derek was the only one wide awake. The trio and Cora were groaning and sprawled across the floor ready to nap.

Derek was trying to wake them up but none of them were moving.

Derek looked to Stiles for help. Stiles sighed, pulling out his wand. He walked around the werewolves and then hid behind Derek. Derek gave him a quizzical look.  

“Don’t feel like getting maimed this early in the morning. _Augementi!_ ” Water poured from the tip of his wand and landed with a splash on all the werewolves. All of them shot up like taut rubber bands. They growled, each of their eyes flashing yellow. Stiles eeped, tucking further behind Derek.

Erica was the first to attempt to launch at Stiles, but Derek quieted her down with a look alone. “Great, you’re awake. Training starts now.”

“Why is it so early?” Isaac whined, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“Whoever wins gets a prize at the end.” Derek grumbled. That had been Stiles’ idea. Everyone perked at the idea of a reward and suddenly everyone seemed refreshed.

Derek walked them over to the obstacle course and all the Betas gave Derek a ‘are you really serious’ look.

“The one who completes it with the fastest time wins.” Derek stated.

“Easy,” Erica grinned cockily.

“No.” Derek said. “Rules. No werewolf strength.”

Everyone whined.

“And when you do the course you have to be as quiet as possible which means that if you are doing the course too loud you start all over. Got it?”

His Betas nodded. “Good, Erica you first.”

The blonde smiled. She cracked her ankles and rolled her shoulders before commencing.

There were three pairs of parallel bars, the middle one being the lowest. One had to support their weight and travel across the bars without their feet touching the ground. It was the easiest thing on the obstacle course Derek had created. He had placed it at the beginning to give the pups a false sense of security that the obstacle course was going to be easy. Stiles thought it was cruel.

Derek set a floating timer when Erica began. She did the parallel bars with little struggling then moved on to the magical glowing rings Derek and Stiles set on the ground. One had to place their feet on the rings. The werewolves had to rely on their sense of smell as certain rings contained the scent of wolfsbane. If one choose the wrong one, as Erica just did...

Everyone grimaced as Erica was shot back in an explosion. She gasped in pain as she landed at the start of the course. “What the hell Derek?” Erica hissed, standing up.

“Time is still going. Start all over.” Derek said with the most deadpanned voice he could muster.

Erica did. She went through the parallel bars and then through the rings. Again the rings shot her back. She went again. The rings shot her back one more time. She groaned and then went again this time looking at the rings carefully. She stepped on them slowly sniffing out the correct ones. She made it through to the next obstacle course.

There was a short wall about three feet one had to climb over. She did it without trouble. The next wall one had to climb over as well but this one was twelve feet tall. There was a rope one had to climb. Erica struggled to climb up as she had tired herself out with the bars at the beginning of the course, but she made it to the top anyway. She climbed down on the other side and landed on the ground with a harsh thunk.

“Start all over,” Derek commanded.

“What?”

“You were too loud. Start over.”

“This is bullshit.”

“Giving up?”

Erica glared. She placed her hands on her hips but did as she was told. When she got to the rings she had to sniff again as the scent had shifted on the rings. She made it through and got back to the tall wall landing on the ground much quieter. The next part was to crawl under barbed wire coated in wolfsbane. Erica went very slowly as to not have anything cut her.

The next part was the monkey bars. Stiles found this part extremely fun. He made it even better by having a timer on the bars. If one took too long to reach the next one, the bar would disappear and they would have to start all over, as Erica had to do.

Erica was panting and sweating when she reached the monkey bars again but as not to fall, pushed her body to strive forward. The last part of the obstacle course were a bunch of logs laid on the floor. One had to use balance to walk across. Easy enough.

Except, when Erica stepped on the first log it floated to the air. She struggled to maintain her balance but if she went extra slow she got through all five floating logs and reached the end of the course.

“Twenty-five minutes.” Derek timed.

Erica didn’t even have the energy to argue. She collapsed on the ground beside Stiles. Stiles patted her shoulder in sympathy, watching the others.

They didn’t do much better. Their times ranged from twenty minutes to thirty. Cora had gotten the twenty but only because she had remembered doing obstacle courses with their family, but she was obviously rusty.

“How is anyone supposed to do this without werewolf strength?” Isaac complained.

“Muggles do it all the time. Some can do it in five minutes.” Derek said.

“You’re lying. Some of that is impossible. I kinda cheated and used werewolf strength to do a lot of that stuff.”  

“I know.” Derek said. “Here is your prize Cora.”

Derek handed her a slip of paper.

“Oh fuck you, Derek!” Cora grumbled. “A fifteen sickle gift card to Zonko’s for that.”

“It’s honestly not that hard.” Derek stated. “I need you four to not rely on your werewolf powers so heavily. The lunar eclipse will hamper them, you need to understand that.”

“Fine,” Boyd said. “You do it then.”

Derek rolled his eyes.

Stiles watched as Derek removed his shirt. He was much more muscular than he had been last year. Stiles felt a bit strange for making that observation but it was difficult not to. “Set the time, Stiles.” Stiles nodded, mouth agape.

Derek went through the course as if it was a simple morning jog. All of them could see he didn’t use any werewolf strength but his own to go through the course.

“Seven minutes,” Stiles said when Derek finished the course.

All the Betas whined since it meant that it was possible for them too. Which also meant that Derek was going to call them back later to try again.

Around seven o’clock the Betas headed back to the castle to shower and Stiles remained with Derek to help him vanish the obstacle course from other creatures or anyone who wandered by. However, Stiles took one look at the course and got an idea. If the course didn’t rely on werewolf strength then perhaps...

“Can I try?” Stiles asked.

“What?”

“The course?”

Derek chuckled. “By every means. I can use a laugh.”

Stiles made a face, but went to the start of the course anyway. He jumped onto the first parallel bar and crossed it fairly easily. He thanked Quidditch training for that. He jumped onto the lowest one and crossed that one and then he tried to jump onto the higher one. He missed the bars and fell flat on his face and shoulder.

Derek chuckled again.

“Oh screw you!” Stiles retorted, wiping his face with his clothes. .

Derek shrugged from where he was sitting down watching Stiles. Stiles suddenly, felt self conscious, but he wasn’t going to be beat.

He went on the bars again and almost fell on the third one again, but as he felt himself losing grip, two hands held onto his sides, catching him midfall. Stiles froze. “Uhhh..” He knew he was blushing as Derek manhandled him back on the bars.

“Keep your back straight and legs tight when crossing the bars.”

“You couldn’t have told Isaac that.”

“He can figure it out on his own. Plus, the training is for them. Not you.”

Stiles huffed and Derek let him go. He did the final bar and and landed by the rings. “Yeah, not looking forward to getting blasted since I can’t smell soooo…” He went around the rings and to the wall. He made a fool of himself trying to get past the short wall and then the tall wall. His arms were going to give out soon but Stiles’ felt that same determination that Erica felt and pushed his body to reach the top. He took a small breather and then slowly went down the wall to not make any noise. He noticed that Derek was following him on the side closely, which offended him slightly, but Stiles understood. He couldn’t heal like werewolves, so Derek was there to catch him in case he fell from the twelve foot wall.

He went under the barb wire without difficulty, since he was pretty lanky to begin with and he didn’t have hair like the girls or Isaac where it could get stuck. The monkey bars were next which Stiles grinned. This was fun, he could do that. He went by them like breeze until the logs.

Quidditch called for perfect balance to ride a broom so Stiles barely struggled with the logs too. He almost tripped only because of his clumsy feet though but Derek was there stretching his arms. Stiles straightened himself out on his own. “I got it.” He said and finished the last log, jumping to the ground.

Derek rolled his eyes at Stiles’ triumphant grin. He began to vanish the obstacle course and Stiles helped. When they gathered their things and began to head back, Derek spoke, “Twelve minutes.”

Stiles laughed and Derek ignored him as Stiles did a dance all the way back to the castle. Fuck yeah, take that! Human triumph over werewolves!

Stiles returned to Slytherin dorms and went straight for the showers. Thankfully everyone else was still sleeping. He didn’t want them yelling at him for tracking dirt and mud into the dorm.

Under the warm spray, Stiles saw a few bruises lining his mole covered shoulders. He couldn’t even find himself to regret them. The adrenaline of completing the course far better than the werewolves was still pumping through him. And because of the adrenaline of course blood was pouring down to a certain part of his anatomy.

He took the moment for a quickie since he knew it would be a matter of time for his roommates to wake up. He didn’t think of any coherent fantasy due to the time constraint but rather just focused on the feeling and the morning’s events. He thought of the way Erica’s breasts bounced when she climbed down the wall, he thought of Cora’s long legs swinging on the monkey bars. He gasped as he thumbed his head and his stroking began to get faster and rougher. He bit his lip to hold in the moan and instead breathed heavily through his nostrils.

His skin was practically on fire as he could feel the distinct sensation of his rapid pulse throbbing between his legs. He shuddered, his breath catching in chest. He was so turned on. If any of the others walked in on him, he wasn’t sure he would be able to stop.

He bit back a groan as his slim fingers pressed hard right under the swollen ridge of his crown. He saw stars behind his eyelids as his thoughts started to unravel and come loose.

Stiles began to really get into it. He worked his foreskin, roughly against the head of his cock. His whole body was burning.

He started to struggle on keeping quiet but a high moaned whine came out of him anyway. His thoughts went to the way Cora and Erica stretched...to Derek’s muscles constricting on the parallel bars to Derek on the wall. A heavy body pushing and pressing him against a tree. Stubble scraping across his neck. Everything was rising up, like something hot, pushing out from the inside.

He moaned loudly. It came out so low and so fucking needy. Suddenly, Stiles knew what had happened. Knew his mistake in thinking these thoughts, but it was too late to stop, because he was cumming.

His whole body jerked and shuddered against the tile wall, his seed shooting out between his fingers and landing on the shower wall.

Stiles was left standing there with his limp dick in his hand as he tried to cleanse his brain. Ok. That was to never be thought of ever again. Ever. _Ever!_

He finished showering quickly, panting quickly, and headed to get some clean clothes. He pulled on his Slytherin tie and was brought back to a nagging feeling he knew he had thought of before the winter holidays last year. Nope. _Nope!_ He tied his tie backwards since his fingers weren’t cooperating with him. That was still a thought for another time. He could still procrastinate. After all, he was fond of ignoring a problem until it went away.

Luckily for him, he forgot all about the problem as he stuffed two toast in his mouth. Yup, he could still procrastinate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow didn't expect to upload this soon but its the labor day weekend and I just had a lot of time on my hands. Hope you liked the Sterek? Tell me what you think of it! Also what do you think of Lydia and Jackson right now?


	24. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson's plan is revealed and the others try to stop it.

After hanging out with the Hales and Betas during dinner, Stiles went to the Slytherin common room for the night. As soon as he stepped through the portrait, he felt a strong hand capture the bend of his elbow and drag him out. Stiles jumped dramatically. “What the hell?” Stiles looked over his shoulder and saw Jackson manhandle him out of the common room and then out into the dungeons. Stiles put up a mighty fight of trying to claw Jackson’s fingers off but Jackson had the death grip of someone who had reached rigor mortis. He pleaded to his fellow Slytherins but no one even batted an eyelash. “You slimy gits!” Stiles called, especially when he saw Malia smile at him and keep walking.

A door groaned as it was forcefully opened. He nearly tripped over his feet as he was thrown into an empty classroom in the random abandon hallways of the dungeons. Stiles banged harshly against one of the desk to get his footing. Jackson slammed the door. The pretentious asswipe leaned against the wooden frame as he waited for Stiles to get his bearings. “All right Stilinski. Let’s make this short and sweet. I know about your friends, don’t try to deny it.”

Stiles stood straight. He rearranged his clothes and huffed. “All right you know, what about it?”

“I want in.”

Stiles played dumb. “In? You mean you want to be my friend?”

Jackson’s eyes narrowed. “No, you idiot. I want the bite.”

Stiles reeled back. That wasn’t anything he expected to come out of Jackson’s mouth. He had considered Derek and Cora’s words carefully and truly believed their ideas that Jackson would blackmail them. “Uh...I can’t give you the bite.” He said after a moment. “I’m not a—”

“—Of course you can’t give me the bite, you’re not the Alpha. You’re not even a werewolf.”

Stiles felt insulted for whatever reason and feigned untapped power. “How do you know that?”

Jackson rolled his eyes, changing the conversation. “You’re going to tell me who the freaking Alpha is.”

“I’m not going to tell you.”

Jackson pulled out his wand.

Stiles smirked. “Yeah, I stopped being scared of you first year, Jackson. Now can you move? I have to take a shower.”

“Who is the Alpha?” Jackson enunciated, walking several steps forward to jab Stiles in the middle of his chest with the point of his wand.

Stiles rolled his eyes if Jackson thought he was going to cave because Slytherin rules dictated to never argue with the point of a wand, then Jackson was in for a rude awakening. “I’m not going to tell you.”

Jackson dug the wand in deeper. “It can’t be McCall. He’s an idiot.”

“He’s not...yeah he kinda is...but he means well.”Jackson took a step forward, which caused Stiles to step back. Soon enough, Stiles was pressed against one of the desks. “If you wanted to bend me over a desk Jackson…” Stiles taunted.

Jackson cut him off. “Or it can’t be Reyes, or Lahey, or Boyd.”

“How do you know? I mean have you seen Boyd, perfect Alpha material.”

“Because they didn’t start acting weird until this year and this has been going for a while.”

“Jackson, seriously c’mon. I’m not going to tell you. Really it could be Scott for all you know. Plus, the Alpha isn’t going to give you the bite you don’t brood or wear enough leather for his tastes.” Stiles groaned and leaned his head back. “ _Oh shit._ ”

“It’s Derek? Derek Hale? Of course.”

“I didn’t say that.” Stiles whined. He was generally a good liar but he was still lacking when it came to Slytherins.

Jackson stepped back, pleased. “He’s going to give me the bite.”

“Why do you even want it?!”

“Why do you think?”

“That you’re suicidal and want to be condemned by all society?”

“No, because werewolves are the strongest creatures. I become one and I’m strong.”

Stiles grinned. “What? Did the vampires reject your application?”

Jackson dug his wand in Stiles’ sternum. “Shut up. Vampires can’t go out in sunlight, werewolves can go anywhere as long they have control. You can remain hidden for years.”

“Yeah, but that’s if you get it and Derek isn’t going to give you the bite.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I know him.” Stiles said assuredly.

“He will. I’m a great negotiator.”

“He’s not going to want an asshole in his pack.”

“He has you.”

“Good point, but that’s because I’m a great asset to the pack. You're not going to bring anything but problems. He’s not going to bite you. And don’t think about threatening them and revealing who they are to get your way. One of them or I will get to you before you can.”

“Congratulations you learned to give threats. Did you pick it up from them?”

“More or less.”

There was a beat of silence and then Jackson smiled maliciously. “Why hasn’t Derek Hale given _you_ the bite?”

“I don’t want it.”

“Bullshit.”

“I don’t. Now really move out of the way.”

He shoved Jackson and began stomping to the door. With his hand on the door knob, Jackson spoke again. “I’m going to be a werewolf, Stilinski. Trust me.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and opened the door, heading back to the dorms.

Without either knowing, Aiden hid in the shadows down the hall and listened to their every word.

 

|~~***~~|

 

On Monday morning, Stiles headed to the dungeons for Potions. Jackson had been a creep since he cornered him in the empty classroom and now he wouldn’t stop bugging. He kept giving him these side eyed looks that had Stiles shivering in his seat.

The bite. _The freaking bite._ Stiles still didn’t know how to tell Derek that Jackson wanted the bite. He knew the older teen would laugh and outright refuse Jackson, in which Jackson would either, A: hex Derek (which was unlikely since Derek was extremely capable of taking care of himself) or B: Jackson would tell his uncle and Stiles’ father which would condemn the Hales and the rest of his friends to a life in Azkaban. B seemed highly likely, which was the reason Stiles felt so on edge. He needed help fast to convince Jackson he didn’t need the bite.

Cora and Erica were out of the equation immediately. They would use violence on Jackson which might cause more harm than good.

There was Isaac, but Jackson didn’t take him very seriously.

There was Boyd. Boyd was the most reasonable of all, but Boyd’s ‘I don’t care’ attitude would have Boyd telling Stiles to just ignore Jackson. But Boyd, hadn’t shared a dorm with Jackson for four years to know that Jackson was outright persistent. Just like any other Slytherin.

That really only left one other person. Which Stiles knew could help immensely.

But, Stiles didn’t even know how to approach him because Scott had been avoiding him ever since Erica had casually informed him he smelled like Derek’s pack. _Fucking Mordred and Morgana!_

Stiles cracked his neck in frustration and tried to listen to Professor Harris. Midway on listening to Harris explaining the difference between a Confusing Draught with a Befuddlement Draught, Stiles got an idea on how to talk to Scott. He shuffled in his seat which caused Cora to give him a strange look.

He grabbed his notebook, tearing a page out.

_You need to lend me your baby dog, Mr. Howly now. We have a major snake problem that Mr. Eyebrows, the bunny rabbit, needs to deal with immediately._

He crumpled the paper and looked to Harris. When his back was turned, he threw the paper ahead of him where Scott and Allison were sitting two rows ahead.

“What are you doing?” Cora whispered.

“It’s for Allison.”

“Why?”

“Because I need to talk to Scott.”

“But why?”

“We need Scott.”

The paper hit Allison in the back of the head. The French girl turned around and Stiles motioned for her to grab the paper and read it. She did. She turned back meeting Stiles’ eyes with confusion, Stiles urged her on to write. She turned back and she showed the paper to Scott where the two began to whisper.

After a minute or two, Allison used a levitation spell to have the note back on his desk. He opened it.

_My baby dog? Really? And Mr. Howly doesn’t want to speak with you. He thinks you’ve been cuddling too much with Mr. Eyebrows and Ms. Huffyhuff-rolls-eyes. And what snake problem?_

Cora huffed when she saw the euphemism that Allison wrote. “Not now.” Stiles scolded.

_Well Mr. Howly has been spending too much time with you. The snake though wants Mr. Eyebrows special attention. I need Mr. Howly. He can help. Please convince him._

Allison read, showed Scott, wrote again and threw it back.

_Mr. Howly says no. Why can’t Cheekbones, Mr. Intimidator or BloodPops (Why do you have such terrible names) help?_

Stiles groaned.

_Because. Please. I need Mr. Howly._

He threw the paper once more but the paper changed direction abruptly. Stiles followed the paper and Harris caught it in the palm of his hand. “Passing notes, Mr. Stilinski?”

“Uh..”

“Let’s see what you have been writing which is more important than the rest of the class.” Harris grinned and began to read the note aloud in a very condescending tone. Everyone laughed. “Well, Mr. Stilinski I am glad to see you care so much for your pets but I will be much happier if you would join me for detention today.”

“Will do Professor,” Stiles grinned, giving him a thumbs up.

“Now. Who else was passing notes?”

No one spoke up.

“Really? Then I guess the Slytherin and Gryffindor Houses wouldn’t mind losing forty points each.” Harris stated.

And then Stiles saw the perfect opportunity to get to his friend.  “Scott.” Stiles shouted. Harris turned to him, raising a brow. “I was passing notes with Scott.”

Scott turned on his stool quickly with an exaggerated gasp. “No I didn’t!”

“I frankly don’t care. Both of you have detention at six.” He stated and then walked to the front of the classroom. “As I was saying the Confounding Draught…”

Scott glared at Stiles venomously from the front of the classroom and Stiles gulped, leaning back in his stool. Cora leaned to him and whispered, “He’s going to kill you after class, you know that right?”

“Yup. Wanna cover for me? Just enough so I can get a running start to Ancient Runes.”

“I guess. I want three strawberry chocolate frogs though.”

“Done.”  

When the bell rang, Stiles was grateful for Cora’s quick reflexes. She stopped Scott before he could get to Stiles and by the time she was distracting him, Stiles was already running down the dungeon hallway for his life.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Stiles for the first time was excited for detention. Which, what the hell because he swore his eleven year old self would have passed out from shock. He entered the Potions classroom at exactly six o’clock where Scott and Harris were already present. Stiles beamed and sat on a different bench than Scott.

“All right, I have potions to brew so both of you are just going to sit here doing nothing for an hour. Got that? Good. I will check up on you on random intervals.” With that, Professor Harris did a dramatic flair with his robes to exit the room, finally leaving the Slytherin and Gryffindor alone.

Stiles expected to spring into action, but when a minute turned to five and then turned to ten with no one saying a word, Stiles found himself getting more and more wary and losing his courage. Both of them were eerily quiet, staring at the black board ahead of them.

Stiles was bouncing his leg with no apparent rhythm, while Scott was picking under his nails.

Scott hadn’t even looked at him once since he entered and then Stiles began to fear the worst. What if he was losing his best friend? What if they never spoke to each other again? And with that thought, it brought Stiles his resolve to take a deep breath and hope for the best.

“Sooooo.” Stiles spoke slowly.

Scott made no move.

“Uh….how are you and Allison?”

Scott stared without blinking for a long moment before turning to Stiles. “Good.” He said and then turned ahead of him again. “How are you and Derek?”

“Wait. What?” _Because really. What?!_

“You _are_ part of his pack.”

 _Oh…._ “It’s not like I asked for it. They took me in cause you ditched me.”

Scott turned his upper body toward Stiles. “I didn’t ditch you! I was gone for a few days to hang out with Allison and then I see you hanging out with Cora and Derek. I thought you could handle yourself a few days, but no, you had to replace me.”

“I didn’t replace you. If anything you replaced me. The second Allison walked into Hogwarts she was the only thing on your mind.”

“So what, you're going to be like the others and start talking crap about her too?”

“What? No! Look, if you’re into her then she’s probably as great as you say, but that still does not counter that she comes from a family of werewolf hunters and she has been trained to hunt werewolves herself. You can’t blame the Hales for being cautious when her aunt and grandfather killed their entire family. You can just look at things from your perspective, Scott. Think about it. She is a full fledged hunter. Derek and Cora told me about the Simone pack in France, that was her initiation.”

“Oh my perspective! Have any of you even bothered to ask hers? She’s the one facing all their bigoted bullshit. She didn’t ask for her family to kill the Hales. She didn’t ask for the training, they gave it to her because it was expected. She didn’t have a choice and that Simone pack in France had nothing to do with her, it was all her mother. And her mother paid the price by dying. Allison is innocent, she hasn’t killed anyone.”

“How do you know? She could be lying.”

“Werewolf remember. I can tell when people are lying. Plus, I spoke to her dad and Deaton about it. Both of them gave me the same story. I’m not stupid enough to engage in a relationship when their family dedicates their life to kill creatures like me. And more importantly, she knows I’m a werewolf and she doesn’t care. Her dad, well maybe gave me a few threats but I figure even if  I wasn’t a werewolf he would give me the same treatment. The point being is perhaps you and your pack have been the ones treating us unfairly. None of you bothered to even confront us in a civil manner.”

“And what about coming to us? You couldn’t talk to your friends? You couldn’t have talked to me. To me! Your best friend! Why didn’t you tell me this, about her, or about anything when you found out? Why did you shut me out and avoid me? I would have convinced the others and all of this bullshit could have been avoided and we could have been focusing on what we’ve been planning since last term. To stop Deucalion.”

Scott was silent. He turned back to the board, ashamed to look at his friend. “Because a part of me wanted it to go away.”

“What?”

“Stiles, I’m sorry but once you started smelling like Derek’s pack, my werewolf side just associated you with all of that nonsense and that’s what I was trying to get away from.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Stiles, you know, ever since I got bit, I haven’t lived a normal life. I miss it. Allison, spending time with her, made me forget about all of the werewolf stuff I have to deal with everyday. She made me feel human, she became—”

“—Your anchor.”

“Yeah. The second you got involved with me in this mess, your presence just reminded me of being a werewolf, not of being human. And I’m sorry, if that offends you but it’s the truth. Pushing you away just seemed like a good way of living a normal life. And then when I saw you hanging out with Derek and his pack and laughing and just having a good time, I figured, maybe this separation isn’t so bad. You have more friends, I have Allison and I’m in control but…”

“But it’s not realistic.”

“Exactly.”

“Scott the werewolf is part of you, nothing is going to change that. And frankly, you're better with it. You're more popular, you’re more confident and sure of yourself with it. I’m sorry if the werewolf prejudice I used to spout at you made you hate that part of yourself. I didn’t mean for that to happen. I understand now completely werewolves are exactly the same as humans there are good ones and bad ones. And you are one of the good ones, the better ones. And plus, being normal just sounds so boring.”

Scott huffed out a smile.

Stiles smiled back and then rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. He got up the nerve to stand and sit by his friend. “I’m sorry.” Stiles said. “All of this is my fault too. I got angry at you for stuff I would have been distracted with too if I was in your position. I should have made the effort to understand where you were coming from.”

Scott nudged him. “Are you kidding? Cora was pissed at me! You made the right move to take her side. It was a matter of survival!”

“I didn’t agree with her with everything. Freaking Salazar, can that woman rant. I was ready to strangle her if it wasn’t for the fact that she would strangle me first.”

Scott laughed. It was contagious. Stiles threw his head back and then both began to laugh without stopping. Scott smiled. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too, buddy.”

Scott threw his arm over Stiles shoulder to bring him in for a hug. The two embraced for a long time, not wanting to let go. The only reason they did was because Professor Harris walked into the classroom. He stopped at the doorway and just stared. “Great, I guess Bobby Finstock wasn’t lying. Damn, I owe him a galleon.” With that, he left the room again, which proceeded with another round of laughter.

They breathed with a sigh of relief as everything that had been plaguing them was pushed away. “So Jackson.” Stiles brought up, casually.

“Yeah, I didn’t really understand your note.”

“You’re never gonna guess what Jackson is doing. He knows about werewolves and he wants the bite.”

“He what? _Why?_ ”

“It’s Jackson. Power-hungry creepy Jackson.”

“So you needed my help for?”

“I need someone to help me convince him that he really doesn’t want the bite.”

“It’s Jackson.”

“ _I know_.”

“I can try. I guess.”

“Great, we need to do this as soon possible though. Knowing Jackson he will throw a diva fit which causes everyone to die.”

“When? It’s kind of difficult to corner Jackson.”

“Saturday. We have Quidditch tryouts, he won’t be able to escape. We’ll corner him after them.”

“Tryouts? Stiles, its October. Tryouts were supposed to be in the beginning of September.”

“Jackson is in denial that our Slytherin Captain left who was our best Seeker so Jackson’s been putting it off. Danny finally convinced him about three days ago to finally hold them.”

“Well at least this gives me the confidence boost that Gryffindor will most likely win.”

“Shut up. You wish.”

 

|~~***~~|

 

Stiles headed to the Quidditch pitch in the early morning and realized nearly half the Slytherin boys were waiting to tryout, even though the only position open was a Seeker position. The current team was forced to attend on Jackson’s orders without any explanation, but they were all lounging on the ground watching Jackson bark orders while Danny helped make the tryouts more civil. Stiles groaned as he waited and craned his neck, looking up. Scott was hidden in the shadows in the upper stands, waiting for tryouts to be over to face Jackson, but it was going to take a while from the looks of it.

“All right,” Jackson stated, heading to his current team. “You losers get your gear on and get ready to try out.”

“What?!” All of them hollered.

“You are trying out. If someone out there is better than you, you are off the team. Simple as that.”

“You can’t do this!” Unger shouted.

“Yeah, the Slytherin team has never done this!” Reddick backed up.

Jackson shrugged. “Thank Danny. He brought up a good point. After getting second place last year for the first time in twenty three years, things need to change. We aren’t the best anymore so we need to find the best. So gear up.”

Everyone sent their glares at Jackson since no one was mean enough to glare at Danny, but they followed instructions anyway. Stiles was peeved he would have to try out again, but Danny did bring up a good point.

Jackson started with the basic test, demanding all applicants for the team to divide into groups of ten and fly around the pitch. Stiles watched the first group go which consisted of second years. Most of them had poor flying technique and were too scared to go the height that Quidditch was usually played at, so they were immediately cut.

The second group fared better as they were from third year, but Stiles could see that their technique was sloppy and he knew Jackson saw it too, so they were cut.

The third group consisted of the remaining third years and a few fourth and fifth years. But Jackson stopped them immediately, when he spotted Malia Tate in the group.

The current team ran after Jackson. “What are you doing?” Jackson asked Malia.

Malia huffed. “Trying out.”

“No girls allowed.”

“Really Jackson?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not going to listen to this misogynist bullshit. I’m trying out.”

“There hasn’t been a girl on the Slytherin team ever because they are weaker than the men. So save yourself the embarrassment and leave.”

Malia rolled her eyes. “Ok I’ll leave to inform Professor Blake of how you talk about the inferiority of women so casually.”

Jackson clenched his jaw, but at the mention of Blake had him stepping down. He let the group continue to fly. Stiles watched Malia fly into the air and he let out a small chuckle at watching her fly. She was quicker than everyone else and her technique was on par with Jackson’s. When she dismounted, she blew a kiss at Jackson and stepped to the side.

Jackson rolled his eyes and let the remainder groups go. When they finished they were only about thirty students left from the eighty that came. They were all fifth and upper years which was expected. Jackson asked them what they were trying out for and separated the thirty accordingly. Six people were trying out for Beaters, five for Keeper, twelve for Chaser, and seven for Seeker which included Malia Tate.

The Beaters went first. None of them could compare to Unger and Reddick who had perfected a bond in working together, but a seventh year was able to knock Jackson off his broom. Unluckily for the one trying out that same bludger came back and knocked the seventh year off his own broom. So Unger and Reddick remained in their positions.

The Keepers were next. Jackson had Aiden shooting the ball and Stiles knew that he was doing it because of course Jackson had also discovered that the twins were werewolves. So when Aiden shot the ball with such force at the unsuspecting new Keepers, most of them had broken or sprained a bone in trying to catch the Quaffle. It was Danny who had to try out as well and caught all five goals.

Stiles was shocked how Danny was catching the Quaffle. Apparently, he had been watching Aiden during the tryouts, that when it was Danny’s turn, Danny squared his shoulders and pushed back on the Quaffle when he caught it to avoid getting the force of it. Danny grinned at Aiden and dismounted his broom with confidence. Danny kept his position.

The chasers were next. Stiles actually felt a bit worried as he wasn’t the best on the team. He made eight out of the ten shots and wasn’t knocked by Unger and Reddick once. He felt mildly relieved, but it didn’t last when Liam, a third year, scored all ten and wasn’t knocked down once. _Shit._ Stiles watched patiently at the other chasers and a few reached his score but they kept getting hit by the bludgers. But Stiles didn’t know why he was watching, he knew the position was going to go to Liam. This wasn’t fair. Stiles should have tried harder. And fuck, his dad hadn’t even seen a single game, yet.

He waited for Jackson to announce the new chasers, and Stiles felt his heart sink.

“Slytherin chasers are Aiden Twine and Stiles Stilinski. Substitutes Liam Dunbar and Garrett Dye.” Jackson announced.

Stiles guffawed and slapped Aiden in the chest out of excitement, forgetting that he was meant to be the enemy.

“What?” Liam’s voice cracked. “I scored more shots than him.”

Jackson grinned. “I know, but I asked Unger and Reddick and Danny to go harder on Stilinski.”

“You what?” Stiles shouted in outrage, remembering that he had nearly crashed to the floor to avoid a bludger coming straight for his head.

Jackson shrugged. “Wanted you out, but it turns out you're not that bad. Shocking. So you stay on the team. And you,” He turned to the Liam, “Can go.”

Everyone thought Liam would hex Jackson but Liam knew that it would be more trouble than it was worth, so he contented himself with an ugly grimace and stormed away.

That left the Seeker position. Jackson had released the snitch at the beginning of tryouts and now was releasing the Seekers to search for the golden ball. When Malia caught the snitch, Jackson grumbled and had the snitch released again. And again. And Again. But each time Malia was there.

Danny was there to stop Jackson from ordering another chase and smiled at Malia. “Congratulations and welcome to team.” Danny said politely.

Malia hummed and strutted to Jackson. “What was that about girls?”

Jackson glared at her, “First practice is on Thursday at three. Don’t be late.”

“Of course, Captain.” Malia grinned and turned dramatically on her heel to grab her stuff and leave.

The remaining six teammates returned to the locker rooms to go shower and change. Stiles showered quickly and was immensely grateful that Jackson was always the last one out of the showers. Everyone had already left, when Jackson finally emerged out of the shower stall just wearing a towel.

Scott and Stiles were outside his stall, waiting for him.

“Really?” Jackson asked, holding the towel at his waist tighter. “I understand that everyone wants a piece of this but—”

“—Jackson.” Scott interrupted before he could finish that sentence. “You don’t want the bite.”

Jackson scoffed and moved to head to his locker. Both Scott and Stiles stopped him. “Really? We’re going to have this conversation while I’m half naked?”

“If it keeps you from running away, yeah.” Stiles barked.

“Fine. I will humor you then. Why don’t I want the bite Scott?”

“Besides the obvious that you might not survive it.” Scott said.

“I will.”

“And the first full moon.”

“What?”

“You have two options as a bitten werewolf, kill or kill yourself. Do any of those options seem relatively good ideas?”

Jackson stopped, sincerely thinking about the situation. “I won’t do either. I’m strong, having the werewolf strain in my system won’t affect me negatively at all.”

“But you can’t be sure.” Scott said.

“I’m positive that being a werewolf is better than a human. So I’m going to do what I want. Nothing you say will convince me otherwise. This bite is going to be amazing and if Derek won’t bite me then I’ll ask the twins.”

“What?” Stiles asked.

“I know they are working for Deucalion.It’s obvious, they aren’t part of Derek’s pack and its just coincidence that their village gets attacked during the summer and they turn out perfectly ok. So  I’ll ask Deucalion for the bite. I’m going to get it. You can’t stop me.”

“I say we just chain him up and ask Deaton to obliviate him about this entire dilemma.” Stiles inputted. “Or we can go with Derek’s first plan and kill him. I’m starting to see the upside to murder.”

“Or we can have Deucalion bite him.” Scott said, glaring at Jackson.

“Uh, Scott?”

“No, it’s perfectly reasonable. Deucalion is an Alpha making an army of werewolves and Jackson is just so happy to serve him and so willing to die for him.”

“What?” Jackson snickered.

“Yeah, did you know about that? Deucalion is turning people to serve as sacrifices to bring Lycaon the first werewolf. You are just going to be a pawn in his game. And if thats what you want then go ahead Jackson.”

“You’re bluffing.”

Scott shrugged. “I could be, but I’m not. Derek won’t give you the bite and if Deucalion bites you, you will die either way, so get over your power hungry search and move on. It’s pathetic.” Scott snarled, the wolf rising.

Jackson’s anger sparked instantly. He was about to hit Scott, but Stiles reacted much more quickly. Out of all the spells he could have used, the only thing running through his head was that he really wanted to punch this son of a witch in the jaw. So he did.

Jackson lost balance and leaned against the lockers.  “Don’t you dare, Jackson.” Stiles spat. He didn’t want a repeat of last year when Jackson had fought with Scott.

“Did you just hit me?”

“Yes.” Stiles said darkly. He didn’t have time for Jackson’s bullshit.

Jackson’s lost his edge as he saw that Stiles was being serious. He knew Stiles from a young age and could distinctly remember that Stiles was prone to violent outbursts if rattled the wrong way. He had discovered this on the wrong side of the stick, unfortunately, as Jackson had teased Stiles about his sick mother when they were younger. Jackson had been left with a black eye and only self-preservation of his ego saved Stiles from ratting him out to the adults.

Jackson turned to Scott as he began to speak. “My life has been shit since I got bit. Trust me you don’t want it Jackson. Your uncle is one of the Auror’s on the Deucalion case, you really think you can hide it from him?”

Jackson glared at Scott. “I’m not an idiot like you.”

Jackson had never seen Scott so angry. Scott stepped to the side and grabbed Stiles. “Let’s go.”

“What? No we need to convince him.”

“I have a better idea.”

Scott and Stiles left the Slytherin locker and headed back to the castle. Stiles was shocked by Scott’s determined strides as they headed to the Hufflepuff dorms, but when they reached the basement, Scott stopped and turned to look at Stiles with a foolish smile, all serious Scott gone. “You wouldn’t have any idea on how to get in would you?”

Stiles laughed and looked ahead. The Hufflepuff dorms were located in a nook on the right side of the kitchen corridor which were concealed by a stack of barrels. Stiles knew that he had to tap the barrels in the rhythm of Helga Hufflepuff, whatever that meant, to reveal the passageway. “Not really, but how hard can it be?” Stiles stepped forward and tapped the barrel two from the bottom, in the middle of the second row and began to tap.

When a few seconds passed and nothing had occurred, Stiles turned to Scott. “Maybe we have the wrong corridor?” And then without warning all the barrels burst open dousing Stiles in vinegar and thus barring him access from entering the Hufflepuff dorms.

“What the hell?” Stiles screeched, coughing up the taste of vinegar. “I swear all Hufflepuffs are evil! Evil!” He shouted at the barrels.

_“At least that's an improvement to your usual scent.”_

Both Scott and Stiles turned swiftly around and saw Isaac grinning at them. He approached the two and took a closer look at Stiles where he began to laugh.

“Oh great. Yeah, laugh all you want.” Stiles grumbled and then wiped his hands on Isaac’s robes. Isaac side stepped away from Stiles’ hands and laughed harder.

“Sorry just, its always funny to see this you know?”

“How do you get in?” Scott asked.

“You don’t. Not a single person outside of Hufflepuff has ever set foot in our home and we like to keep it that way.”

“Again Hufflepuffs are evil.”

Isaac shrugged, grinning. “We are. Just better at hiding it than you Slytherins. But anyway why were you trying to get in?”

“We need to speak to Derek.” Scott said, before Stiles could banter with Isaac.

Isaac nodded and walked over to the barrels. He tapped the barrels away from the prying eyes of Scott and Stiles and made his way down, where Stiles caught a peek of their common room. It was filled with yellows and very very bright. The trap door shut and Stiles and Scott were forced to wait outside.

It wasn’t long, Derek came out with the rest of his Hufflepuff trio.

Derek sniffed the air confusedly. “You smell like vinegar.” Derek stated, while Erica and Boyd laughed.

“Improvement right?” Isaac grinned.

Derek huffed. “Not really.” He said and then he looked to Scott. Derek didn’t glare or huff like his usual broody moods, instead he just stared. Stiles didn’t know how to decipher that look and Derek didn’t give him enough time.

“Hey,” Stiles placed a hand on Derek’s shoulder. Derek gave him a pointed look. “Taking my hand off. But we need to talk, it’s about Jackson.”

Again, Derek looked to Scott.

“He’s ok. Trust me.”

“Why should I trust you?”

Stiles stood his ground. “Because I’m pack.”

Derek didn’t have any retort for that. “Let’s look for an empty classroom.”

“How bout the Room of Requirement?” Erica asked. “Much more private.”

“The what?” Stiles questioned.

“The Room of Requirement. That’s what I started calling it now.” Erica said. “It’s the place where Derek bit me. It could be our Bat Cave.”

Boyd rolled his eyes. “What’s with you and your comics?”

“I love them. And I bet you would too. Didn’t you grow up with them?”

“I wasn’t really into comics...”

Before that could start another conversation, Derek used his Alpha voice. “Erica go find Cora. I’ll take them to the room.”

“Ok, do you know how to activate it?”

“...No.”

“Walk by it three times and think what you want. It’s that simple.” Erica instructed. She grabbed Boyd’s forearm and started dragging him off so they could finish arguing while looking for the Gryffindor girl.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Derek took the others to the seventh floor until he found the right wall. All the others waited patiently as Derek began to pace.

_We need a room that’s private...somewhere we can hold pack meetings...just like my parents did...but a place that’s comfortable...and where only pack can enter..._

A slightly rustic red door appeared in the middle of the wall. He pulled it open, stepping inside. The others trailed behind him.

The room was spacious and had a cabin like feel. Santos mahogany wood decked the entire floor, walls, and high ceiling. Floating light fixtures casted a warm glow around the room. Faded leather sofas and recliners in shades of red and brown had several seat cushion indentations from long use. The furniture had throw pillows in different colors and patterns in which none of them matched but added a homey feel to the room. A coffee table with scratch marks and a crack through one of the legs rested in the middle of all the furniture. On the side of the room was a fireplace made from faded brown and gray bricks of different sizes and shapes basking welcomed warmth.

“Woah,” Stiles, Scott, and Isaac said in tandem.

They began shucking off their robes and stripping to their dress shirts as they dashed to the sofas. The three sagged into their seats.

“Oh Merlin,” Stiles groaned, hugging one of the baby blue colored throw pillows. “This place is amazing.”

Derek agreed because it was a room he thought he would never see again. A direct copy of the old Hale Manor living room sat inside Hogwarts walls. Tentatively he stepped inside, his hands stroking on the recliners. This used to be his father’s and mother’s favorite recliner chair. He remembered the two used to always argue of who the seat belonged to when it was family night. He smiled. Sitting on the recliner, his hands continued to stroke the arm chairs. His fingers caught on a tear of the leather. His smile widened. He remembered the tear had been made when he and Laura had been fighting over the chair themselves and resorted to claws. Their father had been the one to cry over the damaged furniture, both had gotten time outs despite being past the age of timeouts.

When he looked up, he caught Stiles’ stare. Immediately, Derek dropped the smile and put on a serious face. He wasn’t ready to share that part of himself yet.

“So what is this room?” Isaac spoke up, his feet resting on the coffee table.

“Erica found it. She said it’s a room that gives you what you want.”

“And you created this room?” Stiles guffawed. Derek was getting to know the boy more to realize he was teasing, but he still sent a glare.

“It reminds me of the Gryffindor common room.” Scott pipped up.

“A bit, but the leather reminds of the Slytherin one.” Stiles said.

“Really seems more Hufflepuff to me.” Isaac stated.

Derek knew that. The Hale family had been sorted into all four houses throughout the years so the Hale Manor had been designed as a mesh of all four. He liked it. He took down his shields cautiously as he leaned against the recliner chair to relax.

It didn’t take long for the other three to arrive.

Erica came in laughing with Cora and Boyd. Erica and Boyd were in awe of the room, while Cora stood frozen. Her eyes scanned the room slowly until they locked with Derek’s eyes. He gave her a soft smile. She walked further into the room until she stopped for a completely different reason.

“What is _he_ doing here?” Cora glared at Scott.

“Cora, let it go.” Derek said. He didn’t want to either, but Stiles said to trust him and frankly Derek didn’t know why that struck such a strong cord within Derek. He had always been too trusting.

“Let it go? He’s sucking face with an Argent.”

Scott stood up. “Allison is not what you think. I’m willing to explain to all of you what happened with her. I can’t explain everything that happened with the Simone pack because she said that’s private but I can give you a general gist of it.”

“How do you even trust her?” Cora questioned.

“Because she’s my anchor.”

Cora rolled her eyes but moved over to sit beside Isaac. She thunked her feet on the coffee table. “Fine, explain.”

It took Scott about half an hour to talk about Allison, he kept getting distracted and going on tangents when speaking about her hair or her eyes, or other parts of her body that everyone in the room was better off not knowing. But Scott finally gave it all out.

Before, Cora could utter anything when Scott finished, Derek spoke up. “Allison Argent might not have killed anyone. But she is trained so we will continue to be cautious of her but we can promise that we will not speak ill of her as long as she does not threaten the pack.”

Scott seemed to like this answer because he sagged in relief and released the largest grin, Derek had ever seen on the Gryffindor. He knew that look. Scott was utterly in love with her. And that was dangerous.

“All right,” Stiles spoke beside Isaac. “Let’s get onto what we came here for. So Jackson is not planning on ratting any of you out. I know weird. But it’s Jackson, instead Jackson wants you to bite him.”

Derek darkly chuckled. “I’m not going to.”

“That’s what I said,” Stiles said. “He’s being persistent, which could prove more trouble than it’s worth. So, I say you are the one who tells him no.”

“Done.” Derek stated.

Erica who had lain claim to the love seat couch, groaned from where she was lying down. “Jackson would be a terrible addition to the pack.”

“He’s smart though and highly capable,” Boyd spoke from the small space, Erica relinquished for him. “Are we sure we don’t want him in the pack?”

Derek thought it over.

Stiles shook his head exaggeratedly. Derek turned to him, listening attentively to what he had to say. “Nope, even if Jackson was as smart as Lydia Martin, Jackson does not play well with others.”

“Neither do you,” Isaac inputted with a sardonic grin and long limbs outstretched in every direction.

Stiles made a face at him. “Yeah, well I’m not a werewolf. Jackson would be insane and more insufferable as one. And let’s not forget his uncle is working with my dad on the Deucalion case. If Jackson gives a single hint to his uncle he’s a werewolf you can bet the aurors would be on all of our cases. We can’t have that.”

Stiles made a good point.

“How bout we just include him in the pack without the bite?” Isaac asked.

Cora snickered from the large couch she shared with Scott, there was still a large distance between the two. “Please, Jackson would hate that.”

Derek agreed. “I’ll confront him.”

“But,” Scott interrupted. “He said he’s willing to go to Deucalion. He knows about the twins.”

“Oh my god Boyd. I think you might have been wrong on that smart part.” Erica nudged Boyd with her foot.

“Does he know, he’ll die?” Cora asked.

“He doesn’t believe death will happen to him.” Stiles said.

“So then what?” Isaac asked.

Stiles smiled. “Let’s see Derek doesn’t bite Jackson, Jackson goes to Deucalion and dies either way. If Derek does bite Jackson, and if he lives he’s a jackass, more so. If he dies well, I’m sure we will be sad and throw a party or two but I don’t see a downside to that one.”

“Have you tried to convince him?” Boyd questioned.

“We did. No luck.” Scott answered.

Derek thought about it for a long time. “We have to get Deaton.” He finally said. He didn’t want to. He hadn’t spoke to his emissary since Deaton informed them he didn’t want them participating with Deucalion.

“Great, we can lure Jackson into the Headmaster’s office.” Stiles said. “Sometime around dinner tomorrow?”

Derek nodded. “Deaton can convince him and if not, obliviate him.”

Stiles smiled. “See!” He leaned over to slap Scott’s chest. “I told you we should have done that in the first place.”

Scott rolled his eyes, but everyone seemed content with the plan. The fifth years all began talking amongst themselves while Derek walked over to the large windows on the side of the wall. Heavy curtains shielded them, and Derek peeked through them.

He sensed Scott coming behind him and Derek turned. He watched Scott cast a _silencio_ bubble around him.

“Sorry, wanted to talk to you in private.”

“About?”

“Stiles.” Derek gave him a look. “Stiles, is in your pack now.” Derek didn’t answer, they both knew it to be true. “And I just wanted to say, if anything happens to him or you do anything to him. I’ll be there to hunt you down. Stiles being part of your pack is not a joke, he’s putting aside everything he knows about werewolves, everything his mother taught him to help you. Don’t ruin the trust he’s giving you by hurting him.”

“Stiles doesn’t trust me.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “If you trust him and I know you do, the amount of trust he will place in you is suffocating, you have to know that about him.” Derek didn’t know what to say. “But other than that, keep him safe.”

Scott was about to remove the silencing spell, when Derek spoke. “You can be in the pack too.”

Scott looked at the others. Erica was wrestling with Isaac, while Stiles had suffered in the crossfire and was gasping for air underneath the Hufflepuff boy.

“I would like to but I feel like I wouldn’t belong because of Allison and I don’t want to let her go. Maybe in the future when you can accept her, I will reconsider. But I appreciate the consideration.”

“You’re fifteen, you can’t make decisions of love at that age and abandon a group of people that will be like family.”

“We are all young, Derek. We’re about to go fight a werewolf war, we made a decision on that. I think love can equate making a grand decision as big as war, so I don’t think rejecting your offer is stupid.  It’s my choice. But I will help you in every way I can to stop Deucalion, think of me as an temporary member.” With that, he diminished the spell and jogged over to pull Isaac away from trouble.

Derek was left standing by the window in a stupor. Apparently, Scott the idiotic Gryffindor wasn’t so stupid. He sighed, accepting that Scott wouldn’t be part of his pack. He looked to Stiles. Cora and Boyd had taken to sitting on Erica, crushing Isaac who was on top of Stiles. Stiles screeched dramatically for Scott’s help.

Stiles trusted him because Derek trusted him?

But Derek could have sworn it was the other way around. Stiles had trusted him first, right? The day he had cried for their family, that was Stiles giving his trust. Derek thought about it. _No._ Allowing Cora to speak so intimately about their family life was Derek trusting Stiles all the way. It was he who had opened up first. Derek smoothed down the curtains. Who would have thought after all that had happened six years ago, he would be able to trust again.

Derek liked the feeling. Pack was built on trust and he wasn’t going to destroy it. And more importantly, he wasn’t going to destroy his trust with Stiles.

He continued to watch Stiles. He was pulled free. He gasped for air and a bright pink tinted his cheeks that would have been missed if it wasn’t for the fireplace casting a nice warm glow on the other. A strange flutter of warmth passed quickly at the pit of his stomach. It made him want to smile for some unknown reason. He squashed the feeling in favor of helping his sister who was now wrestling with Boyd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a test tomorrow. Hahahahahaha. 
> 
> Anyway. Tell me what you thought. Tell me what you thought of Scott rejecting Derek? I had like eight different version how this went down and would love to hear your opinion. Thank you those who have been waiting patiently.


	25. St. Mungos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson gets what Jackson wants. And so does Lydia Martin.

Jackson knew something was amiss the minute he woke up. Stilinski and his friends had been acting strange the entire day, sending him weird glances in classes. He couldn’t walk down the hallways without one of Stilinski’s stupid friends following him. He pretended to be none the wiser by ignoring their stares, but he just knew they were planning something. And he had a strong feeling that plan revolved around a way to stop him from getting the bite.

But Jackson merely laughed in their endeavor.

They really should have known better that he wasn’t so idiotic. He would get the bite no matter what and if he had to force Hale to bite him under illegal means, then so be it.

So when dinner time came around, Jackson avoided the Great Hall and began to walk around the corridors searching for an empty classroom to corner Derek Hale.

Five minutes heading up the moving staircase, Jackson smirked.

Derek Hale was following him diligently.

Perfect. Hale was going to fall into his trap.

He was around the seventh floor when he turned onto the next corridor. He paused when he saw strawberry blonde curls. _Shit._ Jackson looked behind and saw Derek Hale slipping into the darkness of the last corridor to avoid being seen.

“Where have you been?!” Lydia seethed, marching to him, her heels clicking on the cobblestone floor.

Jackson groaned. “Lydia, you can’t be here right now.”

“I can be wherever I want, thank you.” Her hands went to her hips.

There was only one way to get rid of her. “Ok fine, Lydia. I will play along. What do you want to talk about?”

“You.”

Jackson laughed, arms crossing over his chest. “Me? That’s different. You never seem to want to talk about anyone but yourself, although lately after your situation in the forest—”

“—We aren’t talking about that.” She took a large huff. “No wait. We are. We are going to talk about exactly what happened in the forest. I saw something in the woods and I haven’t told anyone outside Professor Morrell and I’m going to tell you because someone informed me that you have been planning something utterly idiotic and if what I saw convinces you to stop, then I’m willing to tell you what happened.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Jackson played dumb.

Lydia rolled her eyes. “Please, Jackson. You spend so much time in front of the mirror, it would lead me to believe you know how to control your face when you’re lying.”

Jackson shifted his weight and fought the urge to throw a crude gesture at her. “Who told you?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

He raised his voice. “Who told you?”

“It doesn’t matter. We are going to nip this in the bud. So…” She leaned her weight against one leg. “Derek Hale! I know you’re hiding over there I saw you following Jackson!”

Derek Hale appeared at the end of the corridor looking peeved, but Jackson didn’t see that expression as anything new.

Lydia stood straighter as Derek approached. “I know what you are and I might have information that might help.”

“What are you talking about?” Derek Hale questioned.

“Not here, somewhere private.”

Derek looked uncomfortable. “How about we head to Deaton’s office?”

“No. I’m not telling him.” Lydia said.

“He’s the headmaster, if you saw something, shouldn’t you tell him?” Hale was losing patience.

“He’s not involved in the matter like you are.”

“I think you would be mistaken.” Hale smiled darkly.

“No. And you can’t possibly make me. I know several spells to incapacitate a werewolf. So you don’t have a choice.” Lydia threatened.

Jackson wasn’t the least bit shocked. Lydia Martin always got what she wanted.

Hale rolled his eyes. “Fine, follow me.”

Derek Hale led them down to another corridor and to the middle of an empty wall. Jackson was about to question what he was playing at, but then a red door appeared. Derek Hale walked in first so Jackson and Lydia were forced to follow.

The door closed behind him.

“Talk.” Hale ordered.

Lydia took a second to examine the room, until she settled on one of the red recliner chairs. She crossed her legs. The seat made her look tinier than what she was but her strong gaze gave her an aura that she was the one in control here. Hale leaned his weight against one of the sofa’s armrest, while Jackson remained standing in the middle of the room.

“In the forest I had some sort of vision but its not a vision like in divination it was just a vision, but I saw fifty werewolves dead in the Forbidden Forest. I don’t know what the fifty werewolves mean, but I do know that it has something to do with Deucalion and you have been turning Hufflepuffs to stop him.”

Hale looked Lydia curiously. “Are you sure you saw that?”

“...Yes.”

“What else?”

Jackson scoffed. “You can’t believe that!” He turned to Lydia. “How do _you_ even believe it? You don’t believe in Divination.”

Lydia ignored him. She bit her lip in concentration. “That was it. I saw the dead bodies and I screamed.”

Hale looked pensive and Jackson scoffed, speaking up. “Is this really your plan to stop me from getting the bite?”

“Yes.”

“Nothing is going to stop me.”

“Why do you even want it? Really Jackson?” Lydia reprimanded, standing up.

Jackson sneaked a glance at Hale, he now seemed uncomfortable listening to their argument. “Because I need it....” He avoided her look.

“You don’t need the bite to prove yourself for people who are dead.”

“You don’t understand.”

Lydia rolled her eyes dramatically. Jackson’s attention turned to Hale who spoke. “I do.” Derek said.

“So you’ll give me the bite?”

Derek sighed deeply. “You’ll go to Deucalion won’t you, if I don’t? At least with this, you have a chance of surviving, but you have to tell me exactly why you want the bite and give your utmost loyalty to me.”

Jackson mulled it over. “Fat chance.”

“Then enjoy being a pawn for Deucalion.” Derek began to walk away.

Jackson muttered a curse under his breath and stepped forward. “My parents were murdered.”

Derek turned around, face blank.

“Growing up everyone always told me how they were such great people. My father was Head Auror before Stilinski’s, my mother was a highly revered DADA master.” He licked his lips. “Except my dad was a werewolf.”

Lydia and Derek Hale both looked at him with shocked eyes.

“My father got bit by a werewolf on the field around the same time my mother got pregnant. No one knew except my aunt, uncle, and my mother. My mother took care of him every full moon. During the last month, when my mother was pregnant with me, a gang of wizards who had a vendetta against my father broke through the wards. It was a full moon. There was a fight and both my parents died but the Healers managed to save me.”

“How did you know this?” Lydia asked, gripping his hand.

“I overheard my aunt and uncle talking about it when I was ten they caught me listening in and decided to just tell me everything. That’s why I want to be a werewolf.”

“I still don’t get it.” Lydia whispered.

“It’s my connection to them. My father was still great as a werewolf. I want to carry some of their legacy. I refuse to carry my uncle’s.”

Derek turned to Jackson. “Now the second part.” Derek ordered.

“What?”

“Swear your loyalty.”

Jackson rolled his eyes. “This is fucking ridiculous. But yeah whatever, I swear to be loyal.”

Lydia huffed, stomping a heel. “You can’t be serious, Jackson. You didn’t even know your parents. Your aunt and uncle raised you. That makes them your parents and if you were to die because of this bite, you would be wasting everything they did for you.”

“My aunt and uncle never approved of my father after he got bit. They tolerated me because I was a Whittemore if I had been a werewolf they would have abandoned me. That’s why I don’t care so much for them. They’re just like all other disgusting purebloods.” Jackson stepped forward. “So are you going to give me the bite or what?”

Derek sighed, but nodded.

“No!” Lydia stood in between both of them. “I’m not going to let this happen.”

“Why? Is it because purebloods told you werewolves are evil?” Jackson laughed.

Lydia rolled her entire head. “The day I listen to pureblood prejudices with no scientific basis is the day I repeat an outfit.”

“Then move.” Jackson ordered.

“No. You still have a chance of dying.”

“Lydia.” Jackson said growing frustrated.

“Nope.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Lydia.”

“No. If you want the bite so badly then Derek Hale is going to have to bite me too.”

Jackson shrugged. “Fine.”

Jackson watched Lydia look at him with disbelief and shock. He knew what she was planning. She thought that he wouldn’t bargain her life for this. But she was wrong. Jackson felt too desperate to get the bite and think about anything else. And it wasn’t his job to protect Lydia, she knew the consequences of getting the bite. If she died, it would be on her own hands not Jackson’s.

Derek Hale spoke up. “I’m not going to bite—”

Lydia turned on her heel to face him. “—I’m the smartest witch in Hogwarts perhaps the smartest witch Hogwarts has ever had. Rejecting me from your pack would be a dumb move.”

“I still don’t think…”

“Give me the bite or I inform the aurors of what you and your pack are planning.”

Jackson could see Derek clench his jaw and wanting to leave. But both of them had him in a situation where he couldn’t back out. Derek needed to bite him, for the sake that Derek truly believed he needed to stop Jackson from dying. But Derek seemed to forget he was a Slytherin and manipulation was in his blood. He wasn’t going to go to Deucalion. That was suicidal but Derek didn’t need to know that. And because Derek now felt responsible for Jackson he would have to bite Lydia too because Lydia would inform authorities. He was stuck.

“Fine.” Derek finally huffed broodily.

He scanned both their bodies. “Both of you lift your shirts.” He stated.

“Why?” Jackson asked, Lydia was removing her robes without question.

Derek rolled his eyes. “Because both of you are too skinny. I need to bite in an area with more meat.” He stated, elongating his teeth.

“I’m not too skinny.” Jackson retorted, crossing his arms defensively.

“Shut up, Jackson.” Lydia commanded, unbuttoning her dress shirt down to a white cami top. She rolled it up, as she walked back to one of the couches. Jackson went too, removing his clothes.

Derek hesitated for a few seconds before he leaned down and bit Jackson first and then Lydia. They both screamed at the pain and Lydia’s hand searched for Jackson’s. He took it. Derek sat up wiping the blood with his robes.

“Now what?” Jackson panted.

“We wait to see if the bite gives.” He instructed. He moved over to one of the recliner chairs and broodily stared at the fireplace.

Jackson sighed and tried to breathe through the pain. He shut his eyes, falling asleep.

It couldn’t have been more than half an hour before the pain began to subside. He raised his hand to his side and stroked the wound. It was still there but it was no longer bleeding. He sat up with a groan. Did this mean it worked? He kept touching the wound, it should have been deeper. Was it healing? He pressed against the wound, smirking as he felt it already scabbing. It was. He looked to Lydia and that’s when he panicked.

She was breathing shallowly and her entire side was bleeding, staining the couch an even deeper red. “Lydia…” Jackson whispered. The girl was choking out unintelligible mutters. “DEREK!” Jackson cried out.

Derek woke up with a start. His nostrils flared and practically flew toward Lydia’s side. His hand hovered over the wound.  

“Her body, its not…” Derek trailed off.

Jackson gulped down his tremor. “We need to get her help now.” Jackson lifted Lydia off the couch.

“There’s no cure.” Derek whispered.

“Fuck you! This is your fault!” Jackson spat instead. He cast a charm on Lydia to make her weightless as he rushed out of the room to the Hospital Wing, Derek following. Jackson didn’t run into any students who questioned why he was carrying a bleeding body as it was already late evening. Mostly everyone in the castle had retired to their rooms.

However, as he reached the fifth floor he noticed Chris Argent. Jackson sagged. “Help!” Jackson screamed.

Chris turned to him with scared eyes. He ran toward Jackson, looking over Lydia.

“She got bit.” Jackson informed.

“I can see that. Come on, follow me. We will use the fireplace to take her to St. Mungos.”

It was at that moment, Jackson saw Allison, McCall, Stilinski, and Cora Hale coming down the staircase running toward them.

“Dude!” Stilinski shouted with tremor as he saw Lydia lying limp in Jackson’s hold.

It was Allison though that sprung first. Tears were quick to well up in her eyes. She was panicking as much as Jackson. She tried to get through to see Lydia but her father held her back. She wheezed, wanting to collapse. Allison though got a bit of courage and stomped toward Derek, wand poised. She pinned him to the wall with a spell and dug her wand below his jaw. “What did you do?” Allison shouted.

“Allison!” Chris Argent warned. “Later. You and Ms. Hale go to Deaton and tell him about the situation.” The two girls looked like they wanted to argue. “NOW!” Chris shouted. Allison pushed away from Derek and the girls left running.

Chris turned his attention on Jackson. He sighed and they took off running to his office round the hallway. All the students stepped into his office and it was Jackson who first stepped into the fireplace with Chris Argent beside him.

After the flames died out, Scott turned to Derek. “What did you do?”

Derek stuttered, unable to voice anything.

“You were supposed to guide Jackson to the headmaster’s office. Not bite Lydia!” Stiles retorted, his voice growing dark. “We were all waiting for you, when you didn’t show up everyone started getting worried.”

“Why did you even bite her? I thought Jackson wanted the bite?” Scott asked.

“Because I had to bite Jackson and she wouldn’t let me bite him unless I bit her.”

Stiles groaned and flailed around the room. “You _aghh!_ ” He screamed. “That was not part of the plan! We did this whole thing so you _wouldn’t_ bite Jackson.”

“Jackson agreed to help and gave me justifiable reasoning for the bite.”

Stiles groaned. “Jackson liiiiiiiieeeeees. He probably manipulated you. Ugh they both did and now look what’s happening to Lydia.”

Scott intervened, pushing Stiles who had gotten in Derek’s face. “Stiles you know better than anyone, there is no saying no to Lydia Martin.”

“Jackson didn’t lie,” Derek added softly.

Stiles groaned again. “I knew you were bound to kill someone sooner or later,” Stiles huffed and then stepped into the fireplace, flooing to the hospital.

Scott turned to Derek. “He doesn’t mean that. It’s just. Lydia’s dying. Is there a cure?”

“No.” Derek’s fists clenched by his sides and then his jaw. “She’s going to die because of me.”

“No she’s not. C’mon maybe the Healers have something. The reports Stiles stole from his father don’t have any cases where they brought in someone still breathing from the bite. Maybe they have a shot. Are you coming?” Scott asked, going to the fireplace.

Derek shook his head.

“Ok.” Scott said softly and then left.

When Scott entered the room, he had been transported into the emergency ward. He sniffed around inconspicuously for his friends and saw that Chris Argent was shouting at the receptionist while Jackson was on the floor with Stiles, trying to apply pressure to Lydia’s wound.

Scott rushed forward.

“What do you mean you won’t help?!” Chris Argent barked.

“She got bit.” The receptionist said. “If she’s dying then she is going to die. There is no cure. We would be wasting resources that could have gone to someone else.”

“But she’s a child!”

“Sorry. I can direct you to the aurors to have an investigation done on the werewolf bite, but that is as far as it goes. Now, please move to the side there are other patients waiting.”

Chris Argent shouted in rage, throwing things off her desk. He tried to argue again. Scott approached cautiously near Lydia. He could hear her heartbeat and breath but they were growing faint. When he looked to Jackson the fifteen year old was sobbing, cradling Lydia in his arms. It was so unlike Jackson, that Scott felt he had to do something.

He stood up, sniffing the room. He had a vague idea and he hoped it would work. He caught the familiar scent quickly and followed it down a hallway and past two doors.

“Mom!” Scott shouted when he found her.

Melissa had been writing down something in a file and speaking to two other Healers. When she looked to him, she panicked. “Scott? Honey what’s wrong?”

Scott grabbed her sleeve and began to drag her. “My friend got bit by a werewolf. She’s dying.” Scott cried.

Melissa’s eyes opened wide. She turned to the two other Healers and beckoned them to follow her. The four ran down the hallways until they were back in the main reception room. Melissa leaned down to Jackson.

“Sweetie, let her go. I’ll help ok.” Melissa said softly but orderly.

Jackson nodded and watched the Healers call upon a floating gurney. They put Lydia on the gurney and ran into a room, with Scott, Stiles, and Jackson behind them.

One of the Healers, a blonde woman, looked at the bite on Lydia’s side. “She’s not going to survive no matter what we do.” She stated.

Melissa rolled her eyes. “If you are not going to help, then leave.”

The Healer nodded and left, leaving only Melissa and a male Healer with flaming red hair. The boys stood awkwardly in the corner watching the Healer and Melissa close Lydia’s wound. “She’s lost a lot of blood.” Melissa said calmly. “Go get a blood replenishing potion. Now!”

The Healer went to the side of the room where there was a cabinet stocked with several potions. He pulled out a red liquid and helped Melissa lift her to have Lydia drink the potion. Melissa ran her wand over Lydia’s body and then frowned. “It’s not working.” Melissa said. “What’s the concentration of the potion?”

“Ten.” The Healer said.

“Get a fifteen.”

“Fifteen? Her body is too small for that. It would just kill her faster.”

“ _Go get it._ ”

The Healer shuffled through the cabinets again and gave Melissa the potion. They repeated the process but again nothing worked. Melissa groaned in frustration.

“Healer McCall?” The ginger Healer questioned.

Melissa hummed as she tried to find the source of what was blocking the potion on Lydia.

“I have other patients. I’m sorry, but this is a lost cause.” He said and then left.

Melissa grunted. She loomed over Lydia.

“Mom?” Scott said. “Is she going to...?”

Melissa eyebrows flew to her head, looking at the three boys. “The potion doesn’t work on non-humans.”

“What?” Jackson asked. “But her body is not accepting the bite. She’s not a werewolf yet.”

“Exactly. It’s rejecting it because she’s not human. But she’s lost a lot of blood.” Her eyes opened wide. “Muggle way it is.” She pulled out a bunch of random supplies and then used her wand to transfigure them into a small thin tube, needles, and bags. Melissa prepped Lydia, while she spoke to her son. “Scott, grab the alcohol from the cabinet and disinfect your arm now.”

“Uh..” Scott stammered.

“Are you cutting her open!” Jackson screeched in outrage, when he saw that Melissa had inserted a needle in Lydia’s wrist. His knowledge on muggle medicine, didn’t extend very far.

“I need to give her blood.” Melissa instructed. “We have to do it the muggle way. C’mon Scott. _Now._ You are the only one I know for sure in this room who is a universal blood donor.”

“I don’t think that giving her my blood is smart.”

“What? Scott! This isn’t the time to—”

“—Putting my blood in her would only infect her more,” Scott shouted.

Melissa paused, her eyes locking on her son. She was broken out of her trance when Stiles stepped forward. “Use my blood.” He urged, lifting his sleeves.

“It doesn’t work that way. We need to see if your blood matches with hers or we can cause more harm than good.”

“Well check it!”

Melissa pricked his finger with a needle to get a few drops of blood in which she took the sample to the side of the room, where she began to fiddle with a bunch of potions. She sighed. “You match, thank god.” She attached Stiles to the tube and then she sagged in relief when blood began to pour into the clear tube. She checked Lydia with her wand again and saw that her body was taking the blood in her system. She began to check over the wound again and began to close it more properly and disinfect the area.

Jackson stepped forward. “Is she ok?”

Melissa didn’t look at them. “Go to the waiting room.”

“Mom?” Scott asked.

“ _Go._ ” She said sternly, still catering to Lydia. “Both of you.”

The two teens shuffled awkwardly out of the emergency room.

It took fifteen minutes for Lydia to get some color. Stiles only wished he felt the same way. Is this how muggles restored blood? It seemed counter-productive to him.

“Here.” Melissa said, handing him a low grade blood replenishing potion. He downed the potion in one go to avoid tasting the bitterness of it.

“Is she actually surviving the bite?”

“Yeah.”

“How?”

“The bite only kills humans. Lydia isn’t…”

“What is she?”

Melissa shrugged. “I don’t know.” He noticed Melissa began to take samples of Lydia’s blood and then began to run several tests on them with potions and spells. After a moment of silence, Melissa sighed placing her Healer supplies gently to the side. “What were you children doing with werewolves? Why is Scott a werewolf?”

Stiles rubbed the side of his neck with the arm that wasn’t drawing his blood. “That’s kind of a long story.”

“Stiles.”

“I want to answer everything, honestly, but I think that should be Scott’s place.”

“Can you tell me how long my son has been a werewolf at least?”

“October of last year.”

“A year ago?”

Stiles nodded sadly. “I’m sorry we lied.”

“Did he bite Lydia?”

“What? No!”

“Did he bite Jackson? Oh please, Stiles don’t give me that look. I saw that from his shirt he was bleeding in the same place that Lydia was. His body accepted it and hers didn’t.”

“No, Scott didn’t.”

“Was it the same person who bit Scott?”

“No.”

“Deucalion?”

Stiles eyes opened wide. “No! I’m sorry but you really should talk to Scott.”

She nodded and looked to Lydia. “I think we can remove the IV now. We’ll see if her body stabilizes and then give her another round of blood in an hour or so if it doesn’t.” Stiles watched as Melissa meticulously began to handle everything and then set things to side.

”We should probably keep this from your father,” She said after a moment.

“No duh, he would flip a shit if he knew all the stuff I was involved with.”

Melissa paused. “How involved are you?” She whispered.

“Too much.”

She sighed, trying to wrap her head around the fact that her son and the one she unconsciously adopted were involved in this mess. “Go to the receptionist and tell her to find an empty room in the Creature Induced Injuries Ward. We need to make this room available for other emergency patients.”

Stiles left to give the woman needed space.

Walking into the room, he saw Chris Argent, Scott, and Jackson in the waiting room. They all looked like they were in fits of distress. “She’s ok.” Stiles said softly, rubbing his arm.

All three of them sagged in relief.

Stiles left the three to head to the receptionist. He gave her the information and watched her fiddle with an enchanted map of St. Mungos. It took her a few moments and then she was sending a magical airplane note across the hospital where most likely Melissa was.

He headed back to the waiting room and noticed Chris Argent was missing. “He went back to Hogwarts to tell Deaton,” Scott said, reading his mind.

Stiles turned to Jackson. He looked completely unraveled and vulnerable. His entire right leg was shaking nervously and sweat was beading against his forehead.

“Jackson?” Stiles placed a hand on his fellow Slytherin’s shoulder.

“What?” He spat, but Stiles noticed that the usual grimace was missing.

“You might want to head to the bathroom and clean up your wound and shirt. People will get suspicious.”

Jackson let out a shaky gasp, but he followed Stiles’ orders, heading as inconspicuously to the nearest bathroom.

“He’s in full control,” Scott noted.

Stiles agreed. “I think it’s because I’m here. I’m acting as a temporary anchor for him like I did for you last year.”

“Or…” Scott stated. “It might be Lydia.”

Stiles didn’t want to think about the relationship between Jackson and Lydia so he just leaned back against his chair, waiting for Melissa to come back and tell them of Lydia’s current state.

It wasn’t until three hours later that Melissa came back. “If you would like to see Lydia, come with me.”

The three boys followed.

They entered the room and Lydia was breathing deeply.

“She’s unconscious.” Melissa informed as the boys piled inside the room. Jackson took the seat next to her and grasped her hands. Stiles and Scott stood at the foot of the bed. “I’m not sure when she will wake up.”

“What? But you’re the Healer!” Jackson spat to her.

“I specialize in humans.” Melissa said calmly.

“Lydia is human! She’s a pureblood!” Jackson stood from his seat.

“Not entirely.”

Jackson’s eyes flickered a bright yellow, fangs elongating. Melissa stepped back. Her hand reaching for her wand. Scott stood in front of his mother protecting her, his own features changing.

Stiles panicked. Oh this wasn’t good. They couldn’t fight here. “ _ **Jackson, calm down.**_ ” Stiles ordered.

Jackson’s eyes glazed over and he obeyed the command. Stiles couldn’t have been more happy at this moment because of his abilities. Jackson sat back down, his breathing returning to normal.

Melissa’s eyes turned to Stiles with confusion. “Maybe you and Scott should have that conversation now.” Stiles said.

Melissa turned to her son. “Agreed. Scott, in my office.” Scott hesitantly left the room with his mother.

Stiles and Jackson were the only ones left in the room and Stiles felt awkward for being here. But someone needed to keep an eye on the newly converted werewolf.

The two remained in silence for a few minutes, until Jackson spoke up. “What did you do to me?”

“What?”

“I feel calm, but it feels unnatural.”

Stiles smirked. “You’re under my command Jackson.”

“Bullshit. You’re not the Alpha.”

“No, but I am a Moonwalker. Which means I have power over you. So if you want to keep living secretly as a werewolf, then you better not fuck up what we have planned and listen to what I tell you.”

Jackson wisely agreed and remained quiet, even if he didn’t know what a Moonwalker was.

Again, the two didn’t say a word, although Stiles noticed that Jackson was covering his nose from Stiles’ scent. Stiles ignored his behavior. Stiles began to drift off after two hours in his own seat and he noticed Jackson doing the same. They couldn’t sleep, they had to make sure they were awake in case Lydia did. So Stiles forced himself to stand. “I’m going to go get something to wake up. I’ll be back.”

Stiles walked the halls of St. Mungos. The building was huge and for no reason, confusing just like any other hospital, so it took him a while to find the small rec area where they sold drinks and such. He took as much as his arms could carry, and even put a few candy bars in his mouth as he walked back to the room. He opened the door carefully, being extra cautious to avoid spilling the two cups of coffee. He finally paused when he heard a soft murmur.

Peeking through the door, He saw Jackson whispering.

“Come on Lydia. Look you don’t have a freaking choice here. I’m telling you, you gotta wake up. Yes, this me ordering the Great Lydia Martin. I need you, Lydia. I mean how am I gonna pass Potions, you know? And who am I going to hang out with at night and talk about everything we did all day. You’re my best friend. I’m sorry for...You’ve always...I love you, Lydia.”

Stiles stepped back from the door. He had intruded upon something he should not have listened to. He stood outside awkwardly. He knew Lydia would never feel anything for him. He had accepted that from first year, but he still held onto some hope that she would fall into his arms. But if Jackson, was here revealing his feelings to her, Stiles knew that there would be nothing now to keep them apart. Stiles felt slightly devastated but somehow at the same time, set free. His obsession toward an unrealistic fantasy was finally leveling out into an acceptance. Which perhaps was for the best, because now as his obsessive mind cleared, he saw Lydia as a person rather than an object of conquest.

Lydia had gotten bit because she didn’t want harm coming to her friends. Lydia had stupidly ordered an Alpha. Lydia had learned about the werewolves on her own and kept it a secret to protect people she didn’t even associate with or gave even the time of day.

It was everything she had done that spoke to Stiles greatly. He didn’t know she held such compassion. He didn’t know the first thing about her. Still. That didn’t mean he was going to abandon every thought toward her. He still cared for her, but perhaps not with the same obsessive intensity, now it was a flicker that he knew would lead to loving her as a friend. Strangely, he felt ok with that.

“ _Stiles?!_ ”

Stiles was startled. He dropped several of the snacks and managed to spill hot coffee on his hands. He cursed trying to clean himself up as turned toward the hallway absentmindedly. He saw a figure strutting toward him. He turned back to his ruined clothes but then realization hit him, he turned back. “Dad?!”

“What are you doing here?” John interrogated when he was by Stiles.

“Uh what are you?” Stiles countered, glancing back at the two Aurors behind his father. He recognized them as Auror Jordan Parrish and Auror Tara Graem.

“The Auror office was informed that someone got bit by a werewolf. I need to question the patient.”

They heard a moan from the slightly open door. “Ugh, Jackson?” They heard Lydia groan.

John Stilinski went to open the door. Stiles panicked. He stepped in front of the door, shutting it behind him, consequently spilling the rest of the coffee on the floor. He hoped, Jackson got the message to remain quiet.

“Uh why?”

“Stiles, move out of the way.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“ _John_.”

Stiles’ head snapped when he saw Melissa and Scott approaching.

“Melissa?”

“What are you doing here?” She asked John.

“I’m here to question one of your patients.”

“Do you have clearance?”

“Uh...no.”

“Then no.” She smiled.

Melissa stepped forward. “I have to check on my patient, now excuse me.”

“Melissa this could be a lead to the Deucalion case.”

Melissa glared, her arms coming to her hips. “I don’t care. I’m responsible for my patients. You need clearance and a signed slip from her parents as she is a minor.”

“I need to get to her. She got bit and she is alive. She is now a werewolf and we need to take her into questioning.”

Melissa chuckled. “Who said she is a werewolf?”

“But she’s alive.”

“And?”

“Melissa.” _Oh_ , and Stiles had heard that tone of voice before. It was heavy exasperation one that usually had Stiles ripping at the seams and spilling everything. But apparently, it wasn’t working on Melissa.

Melissa stood up straight. “No John. Now move out of the way before I call security. I think it would be entertaining to read the headlines on the Daily Prophet on that one.”

John sighed in resignation. He stepped to the side with his two Aurors as Melissa stepped inside. Scott went into the room with her. Stiles spared his father a glance before stepping inside as well and shutting the door.

“Thank you mom,” Scott said, his eyes shaking with respect and admiration.

She smiled. “You’re welcome.” She gave the children a long look. “I’m going to protect you kids, ok.”

Scott hugged her.

Stiles turned his attention to Lydia who was sitting wide awake on the bed.

“How do you feel, Ms. Martin?” Melissa asked, releasing her son.

“Tired.”

“As expected.” She said, moving over Lydia to use her wand. After a moment, she spoke again. “Ms. Martin are you aware that you are part fairy? Banshee specifically.”

“What?”

Melissa nodded. She pulled out a few vials out of her coat pocket. “I ran some tests and your blood matches that of a banshee.”

Lydia looked at the vials. “I had a feeling actually.” She sighed.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Well it was a good thing you are. Dark creatures blood don’t mix well. Your banshee blood saved you from the bite.”

It was at that moment the door flung open. Stiles thought it would be his father, but then he saw two adults he only recognized from the Daily Prophet. Lydia’s parents.

“Lydia!” Her two parents cried, rushing forward.

Melissa stepped back to allow her parents to hold her. The two adults were cooing over their daughter, while Lydia let them treat her like a ragdoll.

“Is our baby ok?” Mr. Martin cried.

“Dad, I’m fine.”

“Yes. She just needs some rest. We can release her most likely tomorrow night.” Melissa said.

Mrs. Martin (or was it Miss Martin since Stiles knew Lydia’s parents had split, the divorce had been all over the Daily Prophet, _the scandal of the century_ , he remembered reading) looked to him and Scott. “What is that blood traitor doing in here?” Mrs. Martin snapped.

Melissa was about to retort, but Lydia spoke quickly. “That blood traitor helped save my life. Now will everyone leave but Ms. McCall and my parents, please.”

“Lydia…” Jackson gave her a sympathizing stare.

Lydia sent Jackson a glare.

He sighed and left with the others.

“Lydia, dear what happened?” Lydia heard the fake tone of her mother.

“I got bit by a werewolf,” She said nonchalantly. “I’m glad to see it only took a few hours for my parents to come visit me. Did the business feat in Belgium hold you up against your only daughter, daddy? And mother, I’m glad you finished your hair appointment before coming to see me, your hair looks great.”

Melissa stood awkwardly by the foot of the bed.   

Mrs. Martin missed the hateful tone entirely. “Thank you! I see you got a new hairstyle too! When did you do it?”

“Oh, I did it on a whim of August of last year.” Lydia smiled. “Now, Mrs. McCall I think now would be the perfect time to explain my blood line.”

Both of Lydia’s parents turned to the Healer. Melissa took a deep breath. “Your daughter got bit by a werewolf. Now, she’s not a werewolf because the bite doesn’t work on non-humans.”

“Non-humans?!” Mr. Martin snapped.

“Yes, your daughter has Banshee blood.” Melissa informed.

“Banshee? Neither of us are Banshees.” Mr. Martin exclaimed.

“No, but Banshees are a type of fairy. Fairies are notorious for tricking humans into impregnating them and the blood line is carried down usually skipping several generations. For all we know one of you can be carrying fairy blood as far back as five hundred years or so.”

Mrs. Martin stood up straight. “Well, it’s not my bloodline that’s for sure. No one would dare sleep with a Banshee. That’s disgusting.”

“Well, it’s not mine!” Mr. Martin retorted.

Lydia rolled her eyes as her parents began to argue. Lydia caught Melissa’s sympathetic stare and all Lydia did was smile. She was far too used to their arguing. She ignored it in favor to speak to Melissa. “When can I be released, again?”

“Tomorrow. Although you are stable enough to return to Hogwarts and you can spend it in the Hospital Wing until you regain your strength. Would you prefer that?”

“Yes, please. As soon as possible.”

Melissa left the room to take care of the move, while Lydia remained in the middle of her parents arguing literally right over her. She turned them out, like she used to and instead focused on what happened.

She couldn’t quite believe that Jackson had let Derek bite her. No, that was a lie. She could completely believe it. Jackson was a determined prick. It used to be a quality she admired so greatly in the other but she wasn’t sure how she felt about the quality being used against her. She felt several conflicting emotions toward Jackson. On one hand, she was livid that Jackson disregarded her safety. On the other hand, she knew if she was in Jackson’s place she would have done far worse than he had done.

However, when she awoke she heard Jackson speaking. She feigned sleep, listening to his confession. As she opened her eyes, she was met with Jackson’s puffy red ones and dried tears on his cheek. The anger wanted to melt away. Lydia could tell that Jackson wasn’t ever going to take her for granted again but there was still something in her that was utterly peeved. And when she thought about it. She had every right to be.

She came to a decision.

She would follow up on his confession but she would make him work for it.

“Lydia?”

The door opened. Jackson peeked through, her parents still fighting. “I flooed over quickly to your place to get you clothes.” He looked almost bashful.

Lydia smiled, these vulnerable looks were only for her.

“Thank you. I’ll be out in a bit.” He threw the clothes on the bed and walked out.

Lydia breathed deeply and looked to her parents. Still arguing. Merlin, did they ever come up for air?

“Daddy, didn’t you have a business meeting in Singapore after your Belgium one?”

Mr. Martin stopped arguing and looked to his daughter. “You’re right.” He began to stand straight and collected, heading to the door.

“Don’t you walk away from me!” Her mother cried.

“Mom, I thought you were meant to be preparing for the dinner with the Māhealanis?”

“Oh I forgot! Honey, I’m so sorry to leave you, but you are feeling better, right?”

“Completely,” Lydia lied.

“Great. Then no harm. I’ll see you during the winter break.”

Lydia let out a breath when her parents finally left the room. She changed quickly into the clothes, Jackson had brought, smirking when she saw that he had picked her favorite colors. She stepped outside and with a feigned confidence that got her through the day she made her way to the waiting room.

 

|~~***~~|

 

After, Lydia had been transferred back to Hogwarts, Scott and Stiles headed back to Hogwarts as well. It was around four in the morning. Any form of sleep would be futile so the two friends spent it in the Gryffindor common room. Scott was eating Fizzing Whizbees causing him to hover for a few seconds on the couch before settling back down again. The process was repeated as he stuffed more in his mouth. Stiles was snapping a few licorice wands in between his teeth.

“So how did it go with your mom?” Stiles asked.

“Surprisingly well.”

“Really?”

“She said she knew I was sort of different when I went home for that first break but she didn’t know what happened to me. She was actually more upset that I didn’t tell her.”

“Figures. How much did you tell her?”

“Everything. Even the whole plan with Deucalion thing, even you.”

“What? Why?”

“Cause she’s my mom Stiles. She’s worried that we’re involved in this, but she has faith in me. She also said she was going to be ready for the night we fight Deucalion in case anyone gets hurt.”

Stiles remained quiet. “Your mom is amazing.”

“I’m sorry, that you can’t tell your father.”

“Nah, I get it. He’s Head Auror. He can’t be involved with all of this and besides he’s safer if he doesn’t know.”

Scott smirked, grabbing a few Fizzing Whizbees and throwing them at Stiles. “Hey, no sad faces. We just saved Lydia and we planned to celebrate with a bunch of candy and crash later in the afternoon.”

Stiles smiled. “You’re right. Did you get more licorice wands?”

Scott nodded, pulling from his stash. The two enjoyed a comfortable silence, watching the fireplace and eating more candy than they could handle. It wasn’t until thirty minutes later when Stiles, sighed. “I should actually head back.”

“Why?”

“Cause someone needs to keep an eye on Aiden.”

“Oh. Do you want me to walk you down?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Alright, see you tomorrow.”

Stiles waved him off and left. He descended the stairs, mindful not to make any noise but then as he was about to reach the dungeons, he saw Boyd and Isaac running past him. They didn’t seem to notice him.

“BOYD! ISAAC!” Stiles shouted to get their attention. His voice ricocheted against the walls.

They halted to a stop. Stiles’ breath caught in his throat when he saw the panicked looks on both their faces. “What happened?”

“Derek.” Boyd spoke. “We felt something was happening to him.”

Stiles’ mouth fell open. “Where is he?”

“Forbidden Forest, we think.”

Stiles nodded.

They snuck out of the castle, rushing to the forest. Boyd and Isaac had werewolf speed on their side so Stiles lagged behind them. Isaac suggested carrying Stiles on his back, but Stiles’ didn’t want to slow them down. He told them to go up on ahead.

When Stiles reached his destination he saw Isaac and Boyd shifted into their Beta forms. Both of them were growling at a fuming Allison who had a wand in one hand and a crossbow in the other. Stiles’ eyes searched for Derek. Derek had fallen to his hands and knees in which several arrows had pierced his body. “Derek.” He whispered. As he attempted to get closer, Isaac and Boyd charged at Allison. And Allison didn’t look like she was going to back down.

And holy freaking Merlin! She was insane! She couldn’t take on two werewolves.

Boyd lifted his claws to strike at Allison. Stiles was about to scream in warning, but Allison merely narrowed her eyes.

She extended her wand and cast several shield charms, the two Betas hit them with no luck. She aimed her crossbow. The sound of pulled string exploded and the quick whimper of werewolf spiked through it. Isaac and Boyd dropped, blood pooling beneath them on the dirt. They tried to pull the arrow out but it was made of a highly concentrated wolfsbane. They hissed as the arrow burned their palms. She had hit them in their legs and arms, the two wouldn’t be moving anytime soon.

There was no time to think, period, because here was Allison the FREAKING HUNTER, and was well on her way to finish the job with Derek.

Stiles didn’t even hesitate.

He pulled out his wand. “ _Expelliarmus!_ ”

Allison’s wand flew out into the woods. She turned her murderous glare on Stiles.

“What are you doing?! Are you fucking crazy?” Stiles shouted.

“He attacked Lydia!” Allison spat. “He bit her.”

Stiles followed the finger she had raised. Derek was breathing, but he didn’t look like he was putting much of a fight. He was accepting his fate. _The freaking asshole!_ Who did he think he was?

“Lydia’s alive!” Stiles said.

“It doesn’t excuse what he did. I already gave him the benefit of the doubt years ago. I see I was mistaken.”

“Allison, you can’t kill Derek. It was a mistake.”

Allison smiled darkly. Her dimples casting a shadow on it. “Mistake? She almost died.” Allison stepped back and leaned down slowly, picking up her wand.

“Allison, stop.”

“It’s justice, Stiles.”

“I won’t let you.”

“Fine. _Stupefy!_ ”

Stiles ducked quickly.

“Are you mad?”

Allison didn’t answer. She fired more spells and Stiles used _Protego_ to block each one of them.

He didn’t want to attack Allison, it was his best friend’s girlfriend; however, after she knocked him off his feet with a spell, Stiles knew there was no holding back. She fired a spell as he looked up at her from the ground. Stiles rolled away in time. She kept firing and Stiles had to keep rolling. With quick Quidditch reflexes, Stiles was able to get up and cast a spell.

She blocked it and sent another bombardement of them.

The two dueled back and forth, their spells lighting up the dark forest. Allison’s form was beautiful while Stiles dueled with the grace of a troll as dueling was not his forte. But he needed to get into her head to stop killing the others.

He gasped as Allison took a running start at him. She jumped in the air and kicked him in his sternum with both her feet. Stiles felt the air leave him as he tumbled into the dirt with a grunt. Allison fell back as well.

They sat up at the same time and fired spells again. Allison kept getting closer to him and before Stiles knew it, Allison was using her entire body to attack. As he blocked a spell, her left arm came punching into his chest or face. Stiles was getting beaten badly. But he didn’t want to punch her back.

He cast a spell that sent her flying into one of the trees instead. She groaned at the force.

“Allison, please stop. This isn’t you. Just give me the wolfsbane you used on them and we can have a civilized talk.” Stiles informed, he leaned down to meet her eyes.

Allison didn’t like this plan because from the floor she lifted her right leg and struck Stiles across the face.

Stiles bent over in pain. And there she was again casting spells. Stiles really needed to end this.

He looked around the forest and saw a long branch. Transfiguration. That’s what he could do. He transfigured the branch into a bright yellow whip of burning magic attached to the tip of his wand.

He used the whip to keep a distance from Allison as he swung it back and forth.

The whip propelled in the air, striking the ground like lightning. It illuminated the forest wherever it struck and left scorch marks across the forest floor. Allison’s eyes opened in fear as she struggled to dodge it, but she was still not backing out. She tried to make a distance, but Stiles didn’t want her getting the upper hand. He lifted the whip and flung it toward her like a fishing line.

Finally, Stiles had wrapped the magic whip around her upper body and tugged. Allison was forced to drop her wand. Stiles pulled her closer, until he could reach for her wand. He tucked it inside his robes.

“Allison, it’s over. I know you’re angry but—”

“—I’m not leaving until I kill him.” Allison grunted in frustration as the whip sent tiny electric shocks through her body. She struggled against the whip until a small dagger fell out of her pocket. She leaned down to reach it. The dagger wasn’t long enough to reach the whip. But Stiles wasn’t ever lucky. The dagger magically extended until it was long sabre. She maneuvered it until she cut the whip.

She went at him again, this time with the sabre. Stiles blocked with his lightning whip until only clanging could be heard in the forest. Allison swiped over his head and Stiles only managed to duck in time. His sudden shift in weight caused him to lose balance and fall to the floor. Soon, Allison was pushing him to the ground. Her legs opposite side of his chest and the sabre, digging into his throat.

“Stiles.” Derek called out in worry. He tried to move.

“You shouldn’t have meddled.” Allison seethed.

“Allison, stop.”

“No, this is justice.”

“Allison.”

There was a loud roar. Derek had shifted and was weakly charging at Allison. No, he couldn’t make this worse. “ _ **Derek, sit down!**_ ”

Derek paused in his tracks and then obeyed. Allison gasped, her grip on the sabre loosening. “How did you?”

She got up slowly and looked to Derek then back at Stiles. “You’re a Moonwalker…” Allison finally said.

“ _What?_ ” How did she know?

Allison mistook his question as curiosity. “A Moonwalker, you know, the ultimate killer of werewolves?”

“ _I’m what?_ ”

“And you're part of his pack. Why?”

Allison seemed to have lost her dangerous edge. “We need to stop Deucalion, that’s why.”

“You are planning on stopping him?” Allison scrunched her brows in confusion. After a moment, she fumbled inside her pocket. She threw the bag at Stiles’ feet. “That’s the wolfsbane I coated on the arrows. I have to go.”

Allison left the scene running.

Stiles wanted to ponder it but he had three dying werewolves to deal with. He headed to Derek first. “No!”

“Derek, you need to—”

“—Isaac and Boyd first.”

Stiles groaned. It would take longer to argue. He headed to the younger teens with Derek groaning beside him. Derek held Isaac down first as Stiles ripped the arrows from his body. Stiles wasted no time in grabbing the wolfsbane and setting it alight as he pressed the ash on Isaac’s wounds. Isaac convulsed and screeched as the wolfsbane burned out of his system.

Next, was Boyd. He reacted in the same manner that Isaac had.

The two panted as they regained their breath. Both Betas began to crawl toward Derek. “No, go back to the castle.”

“What, but you need to heal.”

“I can deal with this myself. Go.”

The Betas had no choice but to obey.

After the two left the forest, Stiles was left alone with Derek. “I said go back.”

“You can’t order me around.” He kneeled down meeting Derek’s eyes. He pulled the first arrow out of Derek’s thigh. Derek snarled. “Oh shut up you baby,” Stiles said, but his voice was shaking as he pressed the wolfsbane ash into the deep wound. Derek’s eyes flashed red and he growled directly in Stiles’ face, less than four inches apart. Stiles didn’t even flinch. There were five arrows left. Three in Derek’s back, one on his left bicep, and the other in his left flank. Shit, Allison had got him good. He made a mental note to tell Scott to never piss off his girlfriend.

He pulled each arrow in silence and muttered quiet apologies as he applied the wolfsbane on Derek. The last one at his flank had Derek snarling more and he could see why. The wound was deeper than the others. It took a while to close. Derek’s nostrils flared as he breathed heavily through the pain.

He seemed to lose some of his consciousness because after a while, Stiles found himself supporting Derek who had rested his head in Stiles’ neck.

“Uhhh.” Stiles didn’t know how to react.

“Shut up.” Derek inhaled and nuzzled against Stiles’ neck.

“Yeah, that’s not ever going to happen. I thought I smelled bad.”

“You get used to it.”

Stiles scrunched his brows and let Derek inhale his scent or whatever the hell he was doing. He felt his stubble scratch his neck. It brought him back to when they were hiding from the Forest Troll. “So uhh what happened?” He asked to hide his gasp.

Derek pulled back slowly. Stiles rolled his shoulder, getting used to the empty feeling.

“Oh c’mon don’t give me the brooding silent treatment. I just saved your little werewolf ass and your freaking pups. I deserve an explanation.”

Derek leaned his back against the trunk of a tree. Stiles crossed his legs.

“I decided to take a walk. Needed to clear my head after nearly killing Lydia. So I decided to head to the forest. Allison followed me.”

Stiles looked at Derek’s face closely. Derek was looking at his hands. He seemed so vulnerable that Stiles was beginning to question whether he should have hugged Derek before. Instead, to give him a piece of mind, Stiles said, “Lydia’s alive.”

“So I’ve heard. Is she a—?”

“—No. Scott’s mom ran some tests on her. She’s a banshee, creature’s blood don’t mix very well. She was dying from blood loss rather than the bite.” Stiles informed.

“The scream and the visions.”

“Huh?”

“Lydia screamed back in Hogsmeade.”

“A Banshee’s wail.” Stiles said having an epiphany.

“Yeah, and she told me she had a vision.”

“Of what?”

“Fifty dead werewolves.”

“Crap.”

“Yeah.”

“Banshee predictions are very rarely wrong.” Stiles stated, remembering reading about it in his DADA book.

“I’m hoping it was a warning rather than a prediction.”

Stiles hummed in agreement. He sneaked a glance at Derek’s side and arm. “Is it healing?”

“Slowly.”

“How does it feel?”

“According to my family it’s not much different that stitching back cuts with magic.”

“No, I meant the pain, you idiot.”

“Hurts. _What?_ ” He asked defensively when Stiles gave him a strange look.

“Nothing, just shocked you didn’t bother lying.”

“You’re pack.” Derek’s eyes softened. “You’re hurt.” He reached out his arm as if to touch Stiles’ face, but he stopped and placed his hand back in lap.

Stiles reached out his own hand and hissed as his fingertips grazed the bruise on his jaw from where Allison had kicked him. “Not that bad,” and then he remembered that Derek hadn’t lied, “Well ok yeah it hurts but its nothing compared to you.”

“You should get that checked out at the Hospital Wing.”

“Uh healing potions are disgusting. I’ll just let it heal up. It’s just a bruise nothing a few concealment charms can’t handle. Don’t worry about it.”

“I have to you’re pack now,” Derek repeated.

Stiles met Derek’s eyes. They held each other’s gazes. They had been doing that a lot as of late. Stiles though couldn’t stay still forever so he glanced down, coughing in embarrassment.

“Why did you just let Allison attack you? You didn’t even try to fight back.”

“I wasn’t going to attack her for something I deserved.”

“Derek…” Did Derek really think so low of himself?

“Laura already reprimanded me for biting the others. She’s going to be furious when she learns about this. I almost killed someone because I was being selfish.”

“You aren’t selfish, Derek. You had your reasons. Sorry for yelling at you by the way. I didn't mean it. I was just worried for Lydia. I just can’t imagine having Jackson in the pack now. Merlin, he’s going to be annoying.”

“I’m sure I’ll be used to disturbance.”

“What does that mean?”

Derek released a weak smile.

“Did you just crack a joke? At my expense? Dude!”

Derek rolled his eyes and looked up at the moon. Stiles looked up as well, falling backwards. He should have brought a sweater or something, he thought absentmindedly. It was the first week of November and it was fucking freezing out here.

The two stayed like that for a few minutes in silence. Stiles’ hands searched instinctively for the warmth sitting on his chest. He pulled out the pendant. “Two days until the full moon.”

Derek looked down and saw the pendant. “What exactly is that?”

“Belonged to my mother’s. It tells the moon phases. It’s probably a Moonwalker artifact now that I think about it.” He tucked the pendant back, thinking of Allison’s words.

“You're not a killer, Stiles.” Derek said as if reading his mind.

“Yeah I’m not so sure about that. I’ve been translating the Moonwalker book with Boyd and from what we’ve translated, Rhea wasn’t too fond of werewolves, and that’s putting it lightly.”

“Even if so, it doesn’t mean _you_ are a killer. The first werewolf Lycaon was a creature of destruction but not all werewolves are. I’m sure it’s the same for you.”

Stiles smiled. He grinned cheekily at Derek. “You should take your own advice.”

Derek rolled his eyes and then without meaning to yawned.

Stiles laughed but it was cut short when he yawned as well. “All right big almighty Alpha, I don’t know about you but I don’t fancy being a walking dementor around the corridors tomorrow.”

Both stood up and began the long walk back to the castle.  

“I wonder how much Finstock would hate me if I skip his class tomorrow morning.” Stiles yawned. He tried to stretch. As he brought his arms back down, his shoulder bumped with Derek’s and continued to do so the entire way back to the castle.

“Can’t be as bad as skipping Blake’s.”

“Dude,” Stiles groaned exaggeratedly. “You are not skipping Transfiguration. That’s-that’s mental! Suicidal even! Nobody skips that class.”

Derek shrugged. “I rather sleep.”

“Aw, is that how you got the nickname Der-Bear? Just like sleeping like a big old grumpy bear?”

Derek shot him a glare, but in the faint moonlight, Stiles could see a faint blush. He laughed louder than he should have. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. If you need a companion in detentions for skipping Blake’s, just ask. I’ve been meaning to try out a new prank on her.”

“Pass.” Derek smiled softly.

“Alright, have fun with Blake then.”

“Have fun with loudmouth Finstock.”

Stiles chuckled. “Finstock loves me.”

“I’m sure he does.” Derek remarked.

Stiles laughed again. It felt good to laugh. It was a nice distraction from everything that was happening. He needed it. It just perhaps felt a tad weird his joyous mood was a result from speaking with Derek. But it was just a tad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for jamesm97 who was looking for a Stiles and Allison fight scene. Hope this lives up to expectations. 
> 
> Tell me what you thought. What did you think of Allison's reaction? What did you think of Sterek? Love to hear all your opinions. 
> 
> Won't be uploading for a while after this chapter so I made it extra long for you guys.


	26. Apologies, History, and Quidditch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott learns what Allison did and isn't too pleased. Also, the pack finally gets an understanding of what Stiles really is.

Brain dead couldn’t even begin to explain how the pack felt the following morning. Stiles had decided that skipping Finstock’s charm class was unwise, he couldn’t afford to get detention at such a crucial point in time. Definition of the word crucial: the Slytherin and Gryffindor game was in a few days and Finstock being Head of the Gryffindor house would definitely assign him detention on the day of the game.

So here was Stiles, sitting at the Hufflepuff table, his spoon lazily digging into his oatmeal. He didn’t even like oatmeal, but it had been the closest thing in the vicinity and he didn’t want to make the effort to stretch for the bacon. He groaned, thumping his head against the table. Erica offered him a small, sympathetic back rub. He leaned into the touch, humming with much contentment. Still, Stiles couldn’t help but despise her with the rage of a dozen Hungarian Horntails. She and Cora were the only ones who had gotten enough sleep.

He tilted his head to the side. He saw Boyd and Isaac in similar fashions, pushing their cereal around their bowl and barely using the energy to lift their spoons properly into their mouth. In front of him, Derek sat munching tiredly, which came off more as angry than anything, at a piece of toast. He felt bad for the toast. Apparently though, Derek’s presence filled in Stiles to the fact that Derek wasn’t as suicidal to skip Blake’s class. No one skipped her class.

He groggily pushed himself off the table when he felt a presence beside him. Cora squeezed in between Stiles and Isaac.

“Ugh go screw yourself,” He muttered at Cora.

Cora gave him an unamused look and in retaliation pushed the bacon even farther away as Stiles was finally getting some semblance of energy back. He whined making grabby motions toward the bacon.

“Serves you right.” Cora remarked, pouring herself some orange juice. “By the way. I’m not sure I should be bringing you into this but I think Scott needs some help.”

“Help?” Stiles’ voice was muffled from the oatmeal in his mouth.

“He’s arguing with Allison. They’re in the abandoned classroom by the first floor stairs. It sounded bad. The idiots were arguing without a silencing charm, I had to cast one on the door for them.”

Stiles had a strong hutch on what the couple was arguing about. He pushed himself to stand to check on the severity of the argument. Surprisingly, the rest of the pack followed.

Cora led them to the room. The door was locked but a simple unlocking charm took care of that. As the door pushed open, they heard Scott’s raised voice.

“—You can’t just do that to my friends! I went to all the trouble to defend you!” Scott paused. His nostrils flared slightly and then he was making his way over toward Stiles. Boyd wisely shut the door and cast a reinforcement silencing charm. Scott sniffed near Stiles’ jaw. “You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine.” Stiles lied, trying to push Scott away.

Scott reluctantly stepped back. “Take off the concealing charm.”

“I’m good.”

“Take it off.” Scott said in a stern voice, eyes a toxic yellow.

Stiles sighed. From his back pocket he pulled out his wand. He silently whispered the spell as he hovered it over his face.

Scott and Cora growled at they took in Stiles’ form. The right side of his lip was covered in an uncomfortable looking scab, his right cheek was a bright violet red hue, and his entire left jaw was a nasty splotchy red that was swollen, nearly pulsating.

“Did you do this?” Cora nearly roared at Allison. She was unsure whether she wanted to take out her claws or wand.

Allison’s increased heart rate answered the question.

Erica was nearly wolfed out. “What the fuck did you do?”

Allison was nearly crying. “I’m so sorry.”

“Because apologizing is going to take away the burn marks all over my skin.” Isaac bit moodily. The wolf peaked close to the surface.

“You attacked Isaac too?” Cora growled. The Hales were awfully protective of the lanky teen after they discovered Isaac had been abused by his now dead father.

“She attacked all of us.” Boyd said in monotone.

Tears were leaking out of Allison’s eyes. “I’m really sorry. It’s just Lydia’s my friend and...I overreacted. And it was late, I wasn’t thinking straight. I’m so sorry. Scott, please.”

Cora huffed, arms crossing over her chest. Stiles noticed that Cora had moved to stand protectively in front of him. “And that’s supposed to be an excuse for attacking my pack. If it had been Scott to nearly kill Lydia Martin would you have attempted to hurt him too? Would you have killed Scott?”

Allison’s breath hitched.

Cora continued. “Face it, Allison. You are your family. One silly little girl with a different ideology is not going to erase hundreds of years of socialization of hate toward werewolves. And it’s most certainly not going to erase it from you.”

The suffocating intensity in the room turned into a death hold.

“I don’t hate werewolves.” Allison muttered, softly. Her tears had stopped, but even Stiles who wasn’t a werewolf could tell her breath and heartbeat was beating rapidly.

“Not at a conscious level.” Cora argued. “But it’s there. I see you with Scott everyday. You may think you treat him like all the others but you still watch him carefully waiting for him to just slip. You know as well as I do you see him as a werewolf first before you actually see Scott.”

Scott stood uncomfortably by Stiles. He was leeching off some pain as he held onto his best friend’s hand. Scott finally sighed, voice low. “Allison, we can’t be together if you—”

Stiles didn’t let Scott finish the sentence. Scott couldn’t end this. Stiles could see that Allison was good to Scott. Yes, he had noticed too what Cora just pointed out about Allison treating Scott. But it wasn’t her fault. He could see himself in her. While his mother’s hate toward werewolves was most likely nothing compared to what Allison received as a child, Stiles could understand. It had taken him months to look past the monster and look at his friends.

So this situation wasn’t as bothersome as Cora and Scott were making it out to be.

“Stop.” Stiles said speaking up. He removed his hand from Scott’s. He walked toward Allison who was standing by herself across the room.

He looked at her hard. Her eyes were puffy and red. He was certain if Scott continued she would be a sobbing wreck. Allison hiccuped. She seemed ready to face whatever punishment Stiles would offer her. She truly was sorry. He could tell. Here was Allison who presented herself so strongly and now she was breaking that visage into several pieces. He took hold of her hand, gripping it firmly. He turned to the others. The division between them very clear from the space in the center of the room.

“I would have done the same.” Stiles uttered. “If Scott had nearly killed Cora, or any of you, I would have retaliated at Scott.”

Scott’s eyes expressed that he was shocked but not surprised. Because Stiles knew Scott understood where he was going with this. Scott, after all, was a Gryffindor and making brash decisions with harmful consequences was practically his nature. He would have had a similar reaction.

“While Allison may not consider Lydia with the term pack. They are best friends. You do anything to make sure they are safe. Allison was merely doing what any of us in this room would have done.”

Erica looked like she wanted to argue. Stiles stopped her. “Oh c’mon Erica. You know if I had attacked Boyd you would have torn me apart.”

Erica knew it to be true.

“It still doesn’t excuse the action.” Derek finally spoke. He stepped closer, standing in front of his entire pack. “I saw her almost pierce that sword in your throat, Stiles.” Stiles noted his voice was barely in control. “You, Isaac, and Boyd had nothing to do with it. This was between me and Allison. She took it too far by attacking you three.”

“You took it too far.” Scott spoke, now defending his best friend. He saw the logic in his argument, which Stiles felt grateful toward. He walked across the gap, standing proudly by his girlfriend and best friend.

“You didn’t think to come to us when Jackson _and_ Lydia were asking you for the bite. It wouldn’t have been that hard to convince them to wait another day. You acted without thinking, just like Allison. Both of you are at fault for everything that happened last night. And yeah simple sorry’s aren’t going to cut it here, people almost died, but it’s a good place to start. So...” Scott faced his girlfriend.

Allison let out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry to all of you. If I could take back the last couple of hours I would. When you bit Lydia I thought you were like the werewolves my father warned me about. And then Boyd and Isaac came and I thought they were like you so I attacked them.”

“What about Stiles? He isn’t a werewolf. What’s your reasoning for that?”

Allison turned to face Stiles, apologizing. “I thought you were helping them. I’ve heard of humans joining werewolf packs. I was taught to not treat them any differently if they presented a threat...but then you commanded Derek and then you said you were planning on stopping Deucalion and everything clicked. You’re just forming a strong pack to stop Deucalion. That’s why you bit Jackson and Lydia. If anyone were to be strong werewolves it would be them.”

Derek begrudgingly let his shoulders slump marginally, which to Stiles knew that gesture to be equivalent to shattering a mountain. “I apologize.”

“That apology isn’t for me.” Allison spoke.

Derek nodded. He gathered his wits heading to the Hospital Wing. The air of mistrust permeated outside the room and into the castle as the rest of the pack left the abandoned classroom. The werewolves were wary of Allison more than ever but they were willing to compromise with the hunter. It was progress, and that was all that mattered to Stiles.  

The Hospital Wing was barely receiving the morning’s sun so a dim hue settled over all the beds inside the room. Lydia sat awake on the bed, her hair aflame from the window shining behind her. She was eating breakfast with Jackson by her side. “I was wondering when the miscreant squad would arrive,” Lydia remarked, as she cut a small piece of sausage and placed it in her mouth. Everyone stood around Lydia’s bed awkwardly.

She scrunched her brows. “What no gifts? I deserve at least some flowers, thank you very much.”

“She has a point,” Jackson stated.

Lydia turned to him, narrowing her eyes. “You didn’t me bring me any gifts either.”

“I brought you breakfast.”

“A house elf brought it in.”

“I brought the elf.”

“So!” Allison cut in before the pair could argue. “How are you doing?”

“Good, I guess. Are you here to apologize?” She asked Derek.

Derek’s arms hung awkwardly at his sides.

“I don’t think an apology is sufficient.” Derek said softly.

“You’re perfectly right, it isn’t.”

Erica scoffed, a hand going to her hip. “You’re the one who asked for the bite.”

Lydia made a face at the blonde. “You’re so fortunate I didn’t become a werewolf.”

“Oh Salazar,” Stiles and Jackson remarked in tandem. They shot each other glares at the synchronization.

“Lydia, with a pair of real claws,” Allison laughed. “I’ll take the banshee any day.”

Lydia laughed, but turned to the others. “But really? Are you seriously here to apologize?”

Derek nodded weakly.

Lydia scoffed with a confident smile. “Forget it. You can make it up to me by having me in your pack.” Everyone froze. Lydia rolled her eyes. “You made Jackson swear his loyalty to you or whatever that load of dramatics was, and wherever Jackson goes I go. I want in.”

Stiles leaned into Derek’s personal space, whispering softly in his ear. “You know you really don’t have a say in this.”

Derek sighed. “I know.” He turned to Lydia. “You’re bright. I’m gonna assume you know what my pack is planning.”

“Stop Deucalion? Easy but guessing from the presence of all you lowly beings you don’t have a solid plan yet.”

“It’s a work in progress.” Isaac defended.

Lydia made a face. “I’m not going to risk my life for a work in progress. I say a pack meeting should be in order.”

Stiles and Scott were a second too late in concealing their snickers as Lydia fought for power control with the Alpha. Derek wasn’t too happy with it. “Pack meeting is during the full moon, it’s in two days.”

“Perfect.”

Cora glared at the strawberry blonde. “We should mention it’s in the Shrieking Shack, I hope that doesn’t shatter delicate sensibilities.”

Before Lydia could retort, the first bell rang. But Lydia never let anything go so before she could say anything, Scott jumped into the conversation. “So we all have classes. We should get going. We’ll bring you some get well gifts after class.”

Lydia seemed content with the answer and let the entire pack leave including Jackson.

Derek grasped Stiles’ forearm stopping him from following Jackson and the other Gryffindors to their morning class.

“What’s up?” Stiles asked worriedly.

“Take this.”

Stiles glanced down. Derek had swiped a healing potion from the Hospital Wing and was handing it out to Stiles.

“They taste disgusting. Plus, I already put the concealment charm back on, no one will question it.”

“I’m not asking.” Derek sternly said, voice a fraction away from a growl.

“Are you trying to use your authoritative Alpha voice on me?”

“Stiles.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, but took the potion anyway since Derek wasn’t in the mood to joke around. He downed the vial quickly and made a show of retching and spitting the disgusting taste. But he could already feel a small warm tingle under his skin. The potion was working. Derek seemed pleased but Stiles wasn’t sure. “Happy?”

“When am I ever happy?”

“Point.”

Derek turned around as he felt a tap on his shoulder. The pair saw Allison behind them.

“Is this the second try at apologizing?” Stiles asked her.

Allison smiled bashfully. “Yeah.”

Derek stood waiting for it, but as Allison remained quiet for too long Derek sighed exasperatedly and attempted to leave.

“Wait.” Allison spoke up. She sucked in a deep breath and gathered up all the courage in her skinny frame. “I know apologizing for last night isn’t going to cut it at all, just like you bit Lydia…” She trailed absentmindedly. “But the only way I know to get forgiveness for what I did is to help you.”  

Derek scrunched his brows not understanding.

Allison continued. “I know you are trying to stop Deucalion and I want to help.”

“Why?” Stiles asked.

“Because my dad and Deaton are trying to solve the problem themselves and I know they won’t be able to. Two people against one Alpha is madness going up against three with a pack behind them is suicidal. If I join your side, then perhaps the adults will reconsider that your side is an utter failure.”

Derek huffed and smiled sarcastically. “Is that what they said about us?”

“Do you want their exact words?” Allison asked with a teasing smile.

“Wait,” Stiles interrupted, arms flailing. “Your dad and Deaton told you all this?”

Allison blushed a bit. “Not really. Actually not at all. I might have been eavesdropping on their meetings. But the point stands. With me, you might have a shot at this. You saw how I took you and your Betas down. And maybe I can get through to my dad and he can help convince Deaton.”

Derek crossed his arms. “If I let you help, you need to swear on your magic you won’t harm anyone in my pack.”

Allison smiled unbelievably. “On my magic? That’s a bit extreme, don’t you think?”

“No.”

Stiles had to hand it to the girl. She stood straighter as she glared at Derek; he would bet that Derek could hear her steady heart beat. “I won’t swear on my magic. That’s crazy.”

“I’m taking precautions. The last Argent I trusted killed my family.”

Allison dropped her stance a bit. “I won’t harm anyone. You are going to have to take my word on it. I refuse to swear on magic. What if one of your pack members goes crazy and you're not strong enough to stop them?”

“That’s why I have Deaton, Morrell....and Stiles.” Derek said.

Stiles made a noise of disbelief, but Derek ignored it. Despite the fact that Derek found Stiles utterly annoying, he did trust the other with his pack.

Allison looked to Stiles. “That’s right you’re a Moonwalker.” She said softly. “Um I’ll have to think about the magic thing. I’ll have an answer by the full moon in two days.”

Derek nodded that sounded fair. “All right.”

Allison smiled brightly and both boys could see why Scott was so smitten with her.

“Shoot Stiles, we have Charms! Finstock will kill us if we are late.”

Stiles eyes opened wide. “Right. I’ll see you later, Derek! Remember don’t skip Blake’s!” Stiles shouted as he took off with Allison down the corridor.

 

|~~***~~|

 

When the full moon finally came, Derek looked to his pack and Scott. They were all choosing their spaces waiting for the moon to rise. Morrell was missing as she had informed she had duties with Deaton, so Stiles was once again using the mountain ash bag and spreading it liberally around. It was mostly unnecessary now that everyone had their anchors but it was a precaution in case emotions soared. Derek snorted as he watched Stiles direct a stubborn Jackson to corner of the room.

“Don’t touch me!” Jackson snapped.

“Oh shut it,” Stiles was having none of it.

Derek scanned Jackson carefully. This would be his first full moon and Derek realized that Stiles was not going to make the same mistake when Erica and Isaac had turned. He placed a small circle around Jackson.

Jackson banged on the barrier. “What in Salazar is this?”

Stiles gave his evil pixie smile. “Have fun, Jackson.”

Stiles walked away and then began to double check the mountain ash line by the door.

“Stiles! Let me out!” Jackson growled, already shifting in anger.

“Nope.”

It was Scott who was sitting on the ground with books spread around him to speak up. “Remember, when I told you that on your first full moon you kill or kill yourself?”

Jackson’s heartbeat increased with panic. “Yeah?”

“Well, we’re going to figure out which one you are about to do.” Scott said absentmindedly, handing some notes to Isaac nonchalantly. Derek noticed that the fifth years had commandeered the entire floor with several of their books and notes as they studied for OWLs.

“Let’s hope you are the latter.” Cora added, looking over Scott’s shoulder to peer at the Transfiguration book in his lap.

“Wait are you guys serious?” Jackson hollered.

No one answered, causing Jackson to shout obscenities. Derek was curious to see what action Jackson would take. All his Betas had reacted in violent ways toward others during their first full moon, he suspected Jackson would do the same.

Erica stood, stretching by Jackson’s barrier. She smiled coyly at him. “I think I like you all trapped and bound, Jackson.”

Boyd groaned. “Don’t engage with our bad hair dye job prisoner.”

“Bad dye job! This hair is real!” Jackson banged against the barrier in complete outrage.

“Don’t you love what he focuses on?” Stiles said aloud.

Jackson’s yellow eyes glared at Stiles. Stiles wasn’t even startled, although the heavy amounts of mountain ash might have had something to do with that. “C’mon Jackson, stop being so twitchy.”

“I’m not twitchy!” But he was. His entire body was shaking as the moon drew closer.

Derek saw Jackson bang against the barrier one more time before Derek was distracted by Stiles pulling out his Moonwalker book. He sat in the circle the other Betas had formed. From inside his robes he grabbed his licorice wands as he continued to translate the book.

It was silent for a bit as the moon finally reached its highest point. Derek’s eyes turned red as he watched his Betas for any sudden movements. They all seemed relatively ok, a bit fidgety but that was expected due to Jackson’s presence in the room.

And then that’s when the screaming started. Everyone’s head snapped to Jackson as he began to claw his stomach. He howled more like a wounded animal in pain as he dug his claws again.

“Stiles, can you calm him down?” Derek questioned.

Everyone felt uneasy as Jackson began to torture himself. He was slightly relieved that Jackson’s instinct was to attack himself instead of others. It meant that training him would be easier than his other three Betas, but watching Jackson mutilate his own body was difficult to bear. If possible, he was even worse than Scott had been.

“I’ll try.” Stiles spoke up. He stood up and walked over to the corner of the room where Jackson was.

“Jackson, calm down.” Stiles ordered.

But it wasn’t working. Jackson this time clawed the side of his face. Flesh hung limply against his jaw, slowly stitching itself back together.

“Jackson.” Stiles tried to get his attention. Stiles face turned to one of frustration. He turned his back on Jackson. “I don’t understand why I can’t. It used to work on Scott and I’ve used it on Jackson before.” Stiles tried again, but there was no result. It was not until small footsteps from outside the Shrieking Shack were heard that Jackson paused his self-torture.

Everyone turned to where Allison and Lydia were standing outside the barrier. “Is it safe to come in?” Allison asked.

Derek nodded. Allison and Lydia took a step forward, but it was only Allison who was able to cross the mountain ash barrier. Lydia hit the barrier face first. She took a step back and pressed her hands into it. “Oh, well this is fun,” Lydia said sarcastically, rubbing her slightly red nose.

“Sorry.” Stiles rushed over. “Mountain ash works on all dark creatures and you’re a…” He trailed off awkwardly.

“I’m a Banshee, not a medical condition. Just break the line.”

Stiles saluted to the petite strawberry blonde before bending over. Lydia stepped in the room, judging her surroundings as Stiles reset the barrier.

Lydia’s eyes fell to Jackson who was looking at her intently.

The interaction was curious as Lydia stepped close to Jackson. “Why is he bleeding?”

“Attacked himself.” Derek spoke. “He will heal.”

Lydia didn’t seem pleased with the answer. “Jackson? You there?” She said softly.

Derek didn’t expect such a soft tone of voice from a girl who took pride on being a brat. But then, Jackson’s werewolf features receded marginally. “Lydia.” Jackson breathed through his canines.

“Guess who found his anchor?” Scott smiled.

“It does look like it but we still can’t break the line. Jackson is still fairly new.” Derek spoke as he saw Jackson’s yellow eyes glancing around the room.

Lydia smiled at Jackson and sat down beside him. She couldn’t cross the barrier to enter his personal space, but Jackson seemed content to just have the girl there.

Carefully watching the younger students for half an hour, Derek finally relaxed. He finally pulled out his own textbooks and began to study for a test in Transfiguration he had next week.

It was not until fifteen minutes later, that Derek noticed Stiles entering the barrier with Jackson. Jackson wasn’t attacking him so he ignored it for now. But that didn’t last long. Stiles pulled out a large piece of parchment and several ink goblets in different colors. Jackson smirked and pulled out his wand as he silenced the barrier around them.

The two began to furiously scribble on the parchment. Everyone else seemed to be ignoring them fairly well since they were pouring over their school work, which Derek couldn’t blame them for. Fifth year was a difficult year and a shock to those who weren’t prepared.

Although, Derek grew more curious and after a while when he saw rather than listened to the pair arguing as the silencing spell was still around them. Derek finally stood up. The two didn’t hear him coming so Derek got an eyeful of a parchment filled with what looked like strategical placements.

“Oh fucking shit!” Stiles mouthed since the silencing charm was still on. He removed the spell and turned to Derek. “Give some warning.”

Derek ignored him. “Are you planning for the battle?”

Lydia spoke up bemusedly. “They are going over strategy techniques for Quidditch.”

Derek turned to the two. Neither looked ashamed.

“What?!” Scott shouted, trying to get a look at the paper. Stiles rolled it up, tucking it behind him.

“Hey no looking!” Stiles ordered.

Derek wasn’t sure if he was surprised. “Quidditch? Really?”

“Yes.” Jackson leaned back. It looked more empowering with his werewolf eyes “Now that I can keep up with Scott now, the Slytherin team will pummel the Gryffindor one.”

Cora stopped writing. “Please don’t tell me that’s why you wanted to become a werewolf.”

“No.” Jackson lied. All the werewolves heard the stutter in his heartbeat and they groaned.

“Shouldn’t you be translating your mother’s book?” Derek said instead.

“I have been, _almighty Alpha_.” Stiles muttered sarcastically. He crawled over Boyd and Isaac to get his stuff. The two werewolves threw him off but Stiles continued his lazy trek across the floor. “I was able to translate a few pages with Boyd. The book, its a diary on Rhea Silvia and how she came to be and basically the history of Moonwalkers.” He finally got to his book, his entire front covered in a layer of dust.

Lydia perked up at that. “That’s the book I told you can only be opened with blood.”

“Yup. Not a pureblood book, but a Moonwalker book.”

Lydia looked intrigued. “What’s a Moonwalker?”

Allison spoke up. “Werewolf killers.”

Everyone silently turned toward her.

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask, how do you know that?” Stiles’ curiosity piked.

Allison shrugged. “I don’t know a lot about them, we have a vague to barely any information on them. From what I remember from my lessons though Rhea Silvia could somehow control werewolves and she hated werewolves a lot and her hate sparked camaraderie amongst wizards and created bands of hunters.”

“Is that why you called me a killer?” Stiles asked. Allison nodded.

“So before Stiles begins to freak out over that information, you want to read us your translation?” Erica leaned over to glance at his notes.

“Uhhh...I don’t know.”

Isaac leaned back. “I think we deserve something. Boyd has been ignoring us to help you with that book.”

Boyd smirked at Isaac. “Maybe I was avoiding your suffocating presence.”

Isaac mocked a gasp.

Cora cut in. “Just read the goddamn book.”

Stiles couldn’t fight the pack so he gave in. “Ok so it goes…

_On the tenth day of the third moon, the King of Alba Longa, my father, passed and went with Hermes into the underworld where he shall forever rest. Amulius, my uncle took the throne. The change in power went smoothly and if I were to birth child my son would take my father’s place. I did not believe this would cause strife, but Amulius took my womb as a threat to his reign._

_He forced me to become a Vestal Virgin at the age of six. The idea of not belonging to any man and being one-in-myself of sexual independence seemed grand. However, knowing he placed me under the care of the six most revered priestess of the kingdom to only fuel his long rule, made me feel dirty as a sheep living amongst hogs._

_But yet, I remained in the temple for nine years. I helped them cultivate the sacred fire during that time and housed young chaste girls brought into the temple. There was always work and prayer in the temple, barely a moment of thought and reprieve. Yet, I found myself growing bored. I could not voice my complaints. Numitor visited me twice on every moon, beckoning me to report on my status. I told him everything, I could not lie to my blood._

_However, on one night he did not show. It was the ninth moon and Numitor had gone to Arcadia for war. The Once King Lycaon had ruled Arcadia with spears and swords, dark magic, debauchery, and all with a lack of armor. The lack of bronze upon his breast and heart left him vulnerable to Cacodaemones, evil spirits issued forth from the underworld to cause harm._

_It was said that Lycaon had gone mad and wished the test the omniscience of the Gods, especially that of Zeus. To test his power, Lycaon and his fifty sons served him the roasted flesh of a guest from Epirus. Zeus’ fury was not one to be tested. He turned Lycaon into a wolf and killed his fifty children. It seemed like a fitting punishment in my opinion._

_Lycaon became filled with wrath. He took men from their homes, killing them in the paved roads. Every night he took more victims, no one could escape Lycaon’s hatred. The surrounding kingdoms heard of Lycaon’s rage and they tried to make him cease. Lycaon refused to stop his lonely war, even for huge sums of gold. Arcadia grew desperate and asked help from near kingdoms. Numitor being one of them._

_But even he, being so wise and fearless, could offer no real help to the decaying kingdom of Arcadia. It fell into sorrow as people struggled to endure the horrors of the night. And with the falling kingdom, Lycaon moved on to the next._

_I did not expect Lycaon to move into the temples where the Gods were always watching. But it was only hope of mere foolery, Lycaon had already challenged the greatest God, blessed stones and pillars would not stop him._

_On the fifth day of the second moon, Lycaon attacked our temple with men he had threatened to fight alongside him. The guards of the temple attempted to protect us all, but neither spells nor swords could pierce his flesh. The guards were set upon; one was knocked on the head, the other escaped; another was running with one Lycaon’s men hanging onto his robes. He fell down; he begged of them his life, but the men had no reason to him but knocked him in the head, stripped him naked, and split open his bowels to feast._

_The young girls of the temple of ages of ten and twelve fought with their lives with magic. Their magic held no flame, no power; our magic had been taught to merely worship. And then mine eyes saw it. The bloody heathen, Lycaon stood in front of me and my girls, he was ready to knock us dead, if we stirred out. He growled and howled, stepping closer._

_I stood in front of the girls, they cried, praying “Gods, what shall we do?” Then I took the girls and concentrated my magic wishing to be away from all the blood._

_My magic pulled us like a tumulous storm into the woods. The five girls I managed to save whimpered at the reprieve. The reprieve did not last. Merely ten days into the newest moon, Lycaon found us. Lycaon was not pleased that his bloodbath had survivors._

_He lunged to one of the youngest girls. I was not able to quicken my pace or magic to spare the girl. He clawed across her entire torso, a bleeding body falling upon the ground. I screamed, trying to protect the other girls. But I could not. My magic was weak even more so that the wand I had claimed ownership of another. The four other girls perished and in my cowardice, I ran as he began to bathe his fur in their blood._

_Refuge was scarce but I managed to find haven in a small inn. My heart palpitated and wavered as the owners of the inn treated me with the love of family. I feared for their safety as I knew Lycaon was looking for me. He wanted to finish the kill. I had to keep moving for the sake of others but my body ached and bleed, my stomach begged for sustenance, and my prayers had grown weak. I was starting to lose hope in the Gods._

_However, on the fourth bright moon a Goddess even brighter than the sphere hanging in the morning sky entered my mind at the dead of night. Her name was Pandia. She brought warmth and relief across my bones, kept my mouth moist, and settled the hollowness in the pit of me. Pandia took my hand and together we entered her home on the moon. It was a place that could only be described as pure light and cold sweet air._

_She explained to me much, mostly about Lycaon._

_When Lycaon got turned into a wolf he pleaded forgiveness for the Gods to turn him human again. But all the Gods accordingly refused for his disgraceful nature, they held onto their belief that this thing should live the rest of his life with his curse._

_Pandia told me she felt an aching sympathy for the atrocious creature. I’m not sure why, Lycaon was an abomination and should not be trusted._

_Pandia said she could not turn him fully human but could help him shift between his two forms as long as he promised not to offer the Gods barbaric forms of sacrifice ever again. Lycaon agreed with her. Pandia then used the a complete lunar eclipse and shined her red glow upon Lycaon where he then could turn back and forth. Lycaon gave her his utmost gratitude and gave her a gift, a purple flower born underneath her glow of the moons. She gave him her gratitude and named the plant wolfsbane after his wolf form._

_Lycaon betrayed her though. As expected. Pandia was foolish to think that a creature that attempted to fool the almighty Zeus would swear loyalty to her. After being able to shift back and forth, he began killing those who held the magic gift and those that did not alike once more. He offered their hearts to the Gods in jest and all of the Gods found his behavior barbaric. Pandia became filled with so much rage she returned his flowery gift by making the wolfsbane poisonous for him. A punishment most righteous and deserved._

_Lycaon was angry though when he discovered that the plant he gave to her burned the very core of him. His wrath increased when he saw that the wolfsbane had been planted in people’s homes to ward him off._

_In retaliation, he went into the forest and saw a band of bandits and attacked all of them in frustration, but he did not slay the thieving dishonorable men. The reason for this Pandia did not tell me, but I assume its because Lycaon is manic creature with only torture on the mind. He wanted the bandits to suffer._

_Without killing them, Lycaon learned that he possessed a gift of blood. Nearly half the bandits survived their inflictions and became the same evil spirit of a wolf like Lycaon. But the bandits as said, were dishonorable, immoral, listening to no authority, Lycaon was not any different to them. So Lycaon went to Pandia and pleaded with false sincerity to make him the leader of the wolves. She asked him why she should help._

_Lycaon sweared on his magic that he would no longer upset the Gods. Pandia agreed. Another foolish decision. Zeus would not have made that mistake. Pandia gave him what she called, pack dynamics of Alpha, Beta, and Omega but warned him that werewolves can rise and fall upon these ranks. Shortly after granting him this method, her father, Zeus, and mother, Selene, became aware of Pandia’s doings. They were furious. Zeus revoked her right to walk on mortal land and to never return to Olympus. Pandia was now forced to remain on the moon for all eternity._

_Pandia’s wrath while not vengeful like Ares, still shook the core of me. Pandia informed that she could onto enter the minds of those that possessed magic who had been born under her watchful eye of the full moon. I assumed that was her reason for contacting me as she had made and even graver mistake than the past gifts she had give Lycaon._

_She told me that every month she had constantly forced her moon magic into the disgusting immoral wolf, drawing him closer and closer to the moon so she could attack him for what he had done to her. The attacks became so constant that he no longer had control over his form during the full moon, wreaking more havoc during the full moons than usual. He was under the pull of her spell for all eternity._

_One night though, Pandia told me, she forced too much of her magic within Lycaon that it caused him to break free and absorb some of her magic to become powerful. His howl shattered eardrums and invoked the dead to his bidding, his claws and canines were poisonous, and most of all he has the insatiable urge for blood, and frighteningly that was not all he had acquired of her._

_Pandia told me she watched for the moon, terrified of the being she created, guilt washed over in powerful waves. She desperately craved to help those that worshiped her but she could not step on mortal land. The Gods were unwilling to help, as fighting amongst them grew as well. However, Pandia was bright not only in hue but of mind. She pulled me in close as she pierced me like an arrow to the throat with burning magic that made me bleed red smoke from my eyes. Power that I had never known before, flooded me, making me convulse in ecstasy beside her._

_It was a power to defeat the wolf beasts. A power to kill and conquer Lycaon. I was scared of the mission she had given me, but I felt honored that my soul was strong enough for Pandia to grace me as her beloved and child._

_I shall not fail her. The wolves are taining humanity with their heavy unnatural blood. They do not belong of this human world, let them perish and suffer in damnation in the far reaches of the underworld with the Titans before they enslave us all. I will kill them all. After all, I am the one who walks on the moon. I shall kill any werewolf that crosses my path and Lycaon shall be no different._

“And then that’s as far as I got,” Stiles finished reading awkwardly.

A silence settled in the room.

Everyone was silent.

Derek watched Stiles. He waited patiently for people’s reactions but it was hard to even speak when everyone was mulling over Rhea’s cruel words.

Derek couldn’t be more thankful for including Lydia in his pack when she spoke up first. “What is the book written in?”

“Uh mostly ancient runes, a few archaic latin and greek words.”

Lydia hummed. “I can help you with the runes and the archaic latin.”

Stiles thanked her.

“Soooo….” Isaac trailed. “Is the book going to teach you how to kill werewolves?”

“I think so. So you ended up being right, Allison. I am a werewolf killer that must explain why werewolves say I smell bad. I naturally give off a scent for werewolves to stay away.”

Except that wasn’t true, Derek thought. It did not explain why Derek found Stiles’ scent so alluring. He wanted to tell Stiles that perhaps being a killer wasn’t his path. Perhaps his powers could be utilized in a way to help werewolves. However, Derek couldn’t find the courage to say this in front of the others. He had become too accustomed to speaking his mind when he and Stiles were alone.

“Boo hoo!” Jackson whined from inside his barrier. “Everyone can go screw themselves if this going to turn into one of Lydia’s teenage overly dramatic novels. Stiles go fuck yourself especially if you are going to be all moody.” He snarled, his wolfish features apparent in his fangs and golden yellow eyes. “Is everyone forgetting that biographical works are utter pieces of shit? They are all biased. I would assume a bunch of werewolves would get that. Aren’t all werewolf books that are printed claim that werewolves are uncivilized savage beasts? That book is no different. Yeah, Stiles is going to learn a few tricks from it but it’s his choice on what to do with them. I doubt he’s going to run around killing all of us here just because a stupid book says he should.”

“Wow Jackson.” Cora hummed. “Good looks and brains, who would've thunk?”

Lydia snorted. “I wouldn’t go that far. He just hates having touchy-feely stuff around him.”

Jackson snarled in her direction. “Shut up, Lydia.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Now Jackson. I know you don’t mean that. You’re 300 hours of Lydia service aren’t up yet.”

“300 hundred hours?” Scott asked.

Lydia smirked. “Jackson has to play nice and do whatever I say for that long after he offered me up for Derek to bite.”

Erica and Boyd snorted.

“On the subject of Derek,” Allison brought up as casually as she could. “I have an answer for you.” She stared at Derek without blinking. “The answer is no.”

“No? On what?” Scott questioned.

“Nothing.” Allison lied.

Scott gave her a reprimanding look. Everyone hid their laugh at how unconvincing and unfrightening it looked.

Allison felt the same way but she couldn’t lie to Scott. “Derek asked me to swear on my magic that I wouldn’t attack any of you.”

Scott’s eyes turned his Beta color. “You made her what?!”

Derek didn’t even bother to look ashamed. “I’m the Alpha. I do what it takes to protect this pack.”

“But she isn’t going to hurt anyone!—” He trailed off remembering what had happened a few days ago. “—Anymore! Allison and I talked. She said she wasn’t going to shoot arrows or spells at any of you guys.”

“That’s not true.” Allison interrupted. “I said, I wouldn’t hurt anyone yes, as long as they don’t harm anyone.”

Boyd sighed, rolling his eyes. “Why don’t you just swear on your magic that you won’t hurt anyone in the pack without reason? Seriously, what is it with you people and taking completly extreme dramatic action?”

“Says the guy who goes to a werewolf for the bite,” Erica smirked.

Allison looked over to Derek, he nodded. “That sounds fair.” She pulled out her wand.

“Allison, no.” Scott protested.

She gave him a kind smile. “It’s all right. I take my code seriously. _Nous protégeons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protéger eux-mêmes_.”

Lydia translated automatically. “We protect those who can’t protect themselves.”

“You actually changed the code?” Derek asked, awed. He felt slightly ashamed for not believing in Chris Argent at the start of the term.

She nodded and then without preamble swore on her magic.

Derek couldn’t have been more thankful.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Derek watched Stiles jump clumsily over a branch as they walked together in the Forbidden Forest. Derek saw the fall before it even happened and didn’t bother to help him. Spluttering dirt from his mouth, Stiles stood up, “Aww great, slushy wet mud just what I needed to complete my breakfast.”

Derek chuckled softly, continuing to walk with his hands in his pockets. “Maybe if you paid attention to where you were walking instead of babbling everywhere.” Derek commented, ducking under a branch.

Stiles ran to catch up with him. “I don’t babble! I might run on more than required with the occasional yammer...”

“Stiles. Shut up.”

“Got it.”

The two walked in silence for a good five minutes until Stiles couldn’t take it anymore. “So what are we doing in the forest at five in the morning again? Not that I’m complaining. I bask in the enjoyment of treading through a cold cold very cold dark forest every single day…”

“Why didn’t you bring a sweater?” Derek questioned as he saw Stiles shiver.

“Because I was too busy making sure I got out of the castle in one peace in my sleep deprived state. I didn’t—”

“—I need help with the obstacle course again.” Derek cut off before Stiles could digress.

“What? Did the forest troll destroy it again?”

“No I set wards around the area. No one can enter but us.”

“So you need me to create another torture device for the pups?”

“Basically.”

They finally reached the clearing and Derek watched as Stiles sat down on the protruding root of a tree . He let him rest for a bit. “How did training Jackson go yesterday?” Stiles stretched.  

“I wish I could say he’s useless…”

“But?” Stiles arms fell limply.

“He’s a quick learner, not to mention he found his anchor in less than a week.”

“So he has full control?”

“More or less. He’s surprisingly in touch with his wolf side.”

“Well Jackson has always been a bit fangy. He’s just showing his true colors now which is great! Because the first Quidditch match is tomorrow and we need Jackson to save face from last year’s repulsive game against Gryffindor.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “I fiercely hate that nearly my entire pack is involved in that stupid game.”

“Just because you got stuck in a chimney because you were chasing a butterfly...” Derek shot him a glare, flashing his Alpha’s eyes. “ _Oh yeah_ , Cora told me the complete story on that one.”

Derek clenched his jaw. “I was _nine_.”

“Dude! I’m not judging. I did a lot more stupid stuff than chase butterflies and get stuck in chimneys. I think my dad would prefer that over flooding an entire floor of the Whittemore Manor.”

Derek was at loss for words. “I’m not even going to ask.”

Stiles stretched one last time. “Don’t worry, I can tell you're interested. I’ll tell you some other time. It’s a long story. But back on topic. Quidditch is amazing.”

“If you say so. But back on the _real_ topic. How good are you at animated transfiguration?”

“Amazing. Why?”

Derek released the vanishing spell from the dummies he had in the clearing. “During the summer, I animated them to attack but they’re human in the way attack. I don’t know how to animate it with werewolf mannerisms.”

Stiles stepped forward, examining the dummy curiously. “I think I can do it.” He pulled out his wand and then Derek watched Stiles work on the figurine.

Derek stepped back, letting him do his thing. He couldn’t help but let out the amused huff, that even in utter concentration, Stiles could not be silenced. He made humming noises, that Derek was sure Stiles wasn’t even aware he was making. He also had the stupid habit of thrumming his fingers by the side of his thigh which felt too loud to Derek’s sensitive hearing.

He couldn’t quite believe he had gotten to this point with the other. Last year, he could barely stand him and here he was reaching out to the other for help. Cora had teased that he was growing soft, but in all honesty, Cora seemed to be ecstatic about the idea. And truthfully he kind of was too. Without even meaning to, this stupid Slytherin was reverting him to his old ways. He kinda liked it...

“Ok. I think that should do it.” Stiles stepped back, waving his wand in intricate details. “ _Motum Animalis!_ ”

The dummy cracked and grew in size. It transfigured into the shape Derek had done and then expanded. It’s fingers replaced with claws, its biceps extending, and a mouth appeared with fangs.

“Try it out.” Stiles grinned.

Derek stepped forward, casting the spell to animate it to fight. Immediately, the dummy jumped at him. It was clearly animalistic as it tried to snap at his neck and claw into his sides. But, Derek was prepared for the onslaught and pinned it to the ground with little struggle. Stiles removed the spell, causing the dummy to revert to round and cylindrical pieces of wood.

“Good?” Stiles asked with a self-satisfied smirk, peering at Derek who was on the floor.

“It’s alright.” Derek stood up, wiping off the dirt from his robes. He looked up when Stiles began to shift awkwardly. “What do you want?” Derek asked with exasperation.

“Why don’t you teach me?”

“Teach you what?”

“How to fight.”

“You have your spells.”

“Yeah, but what if I don’t have my wand.”

“Then someone in the pack will be there to help.”

“But what if they aren’t?” When Derek gave him an annoyed look, Stiles snorted. “Hey man, I can continue for hours with a bajillion question on why you need to teach me. So if you want me to continue…”

“If I help you, will you stop being annoying.”

“Not a chance.”

Derek exhaled. “Fine. Come over here.”

“Seriously?”

“I’m not going to repeat myself.”

“Awesome!” Stiles ran over, standing in front of Derek. Derek took in his bright golden eyes shaking in anticipation much like his body. His cheeks were flushed a bright red from the November wind and his breath was visible.

A random flutter, passed through Derek. He coughed. “All right. We can start with—”

“Dude.”

“What?”

“Last time I punched a werewolf, AKA, you. I broke my hand.”

Derek paused, remembering the incident as well. “I’m not going to teach you that. You’re too weak.”

“Oh well glad we got that settled, thank you so much Derek.”

Derek ignored him. “First thing you need to know when fighting someone stronger and bigger than you, you don’t want to fight in close. You don’t want to be caught up and for your opponent to grab you. For example.” Derek pulled Stiles in easily to drop him. Derek caught him in the last second before he hit the ground and pulled him back up with little effort.

Stiles gaped in shock. “Not cool!” He rearranged his clothes, panting.

Derek ignored him, again. “But werewolves are quick so its inevitable they are going to get close to you. So if a werewolf does get close to you, you need to remember vital spots on a werewolf, ears, eyes, nose, and neck. You pull an ear, you jab their eyes into their skull, or stick an elbow in their neck.”

“That simple?”

“Want to try it?”

“With the dummy?”

Derek thought it over. “The dummy might actually kill you.”

“Then you? But you’re not that much bigger than me.”

Derek snarled. “I’m stronger.” Derek stepped forward, wrapping his arms around Stiles’ back, pulling him in close and trapping Stiles’ arms to his side. Which in fact, might not have been Derek’s greatest idea by the fact that it brought him up and personal with Stiles’ body and scent. He had already messed up twice by scenting the other teen inappropriately. He didn’t know how long he could keep the charade, so he wanted to make this quick.

“Ok, you’ve made your point!” Stiles wheezed against Derek’s chest. “Now what?”

“Since werewolves aren’t stupid enough to have your arms out. You use the rest of your body.”

“Headbut?”

“Headbut.”

“You’re not going to eat me alive if I headbut you, right?”

“Just do it.” Stiles pushed his forehead into Derek’s nose.

Derek hissed, pulling back a bit, giving Stiles enough space to headbut him in the neck. Derek coughed and stepped back further, putting a hand up to signal a stop and to catch his breath.

“You good?”

“Yeah.” Derek breathed deeply. “But basically that’s it. Once they are stepping back and coughing. Make sure to go for the eyes and nose. Werewolves rely on them, if they can’t see or smell you, you take away a large part of their power.”

“So we aren’t trying that on you, right?”

“Right.”

“Cool.” Stiles bounced on his heels. “Can’t wait to show Scott and Cora.”

“They will still kick your ass.”

“I know.”

Derek snorted. “Ready to head back then?”

“Yeah. Need to go change for Quidditch practice anyway. Game tomorrow and all that.”

“Yippie.”

“No need to jump and sing, Derek.”

Derek pushed the other teen slightly and kept walking. It was Stiles’s fault that he fell with the grace of a blast-ended skrewt. “Hey!” Stiles got up and then chased after Derek to administer the same treatment. Derek was a little shocked that Stiles was able to push him so hard. He sent a murderous glare in Stiles’ direction.

Stiles gulped. He took off running, but there was a grin on his face.

Derek chased after him with a small hidden smile as well.

It felt good.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Bustling Slytherin Quidditch players ambled around the Slytherin locker room getting ready for the big match. Restlessness settled inside Stiles as he put on his Slytherin Quidditch uniform. He tried to count to ease the slight nausea pooling in his gut, but after a while, he began to lose his place and frankly, it only made him more jittery.

A shadow settled over Stiles and the dotted boy turned to see the disturbance. Danny smiled at him and pointed to his shoulder pads. Stiles helped Danny clasp his Keeper gear at the back.

“Nervous?” Danny questioned.

“I’m good. Just sweating profusely and releasing a strange odor.”

Danny rolled his eyes, but both of their attention was stolen when they heard people enter the room. All the Quidditch players turned to the entrance as they saw Lydia Martin enter the locker room. Stiles felt a pang in his heart as he noticed that Lydia’s clique had gotten smaller. After all her trips to the Hospital Wing, her popularity was wavering.  

“What are you doing here?” Jackson questioned the petite girl.

“Cheering you guys on.”

Stiles watched the confrontation intensely as Jackson narrowed his eyes. “You hate Quidditch.”

“What? No I don’t.” Lydia snorted.

“You do.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about, I love Quidditch.” Jackson gave her a long stare. Lydia gave him a weak smile. “You know what I mean.”

When it looked as if Jackson was going to kick the girl out, Danny stepped in between the pair. “Why aren’t you in the stands?” Danny asked.

Lydia grinned. “We wanted to show moral support.” She pulled out bottles of paint from the pockets of her robes.

“No.” Jackson said quickly.

Malia Tate, who had a separating screen so she could change, emerged to join the others. “I think that’s a great idea.”

Jackson glared at Malia, but really, everyone knew he wasn’t going to ever win against Lydia. “Fine.”

All the players girls cheered. The players went to a girl where the girls used their wands to paint their faces. Stiles chortled and finished tying up his boots when Lydia stood in front of him.

“Can we talk?” She asked.

“Um...I really can’t say no to you.”

Lydia affirmed this with a nod. “I just wanted to talk to you about the others.”

“What do you mean?”

“You need to make sure no one gives away anything during the game. Keep everyone in check. Because Merlin knows what would happen if someone slipped.”

“As much as I would like to stop them from ravaging the crowd. I can’t do that. I’m not their anchor. I’m not anyone’s.”

Lydia sat beside him on the bench, crossing her perfect legs. “You’re absolutely right. You're not an anchor Stiles. You never have been and probably won’t ever be because well its you.”

“Gee I’m starting to see why I was so obsessed with you all those years.” Stiles sarcastically jibbed.

Lydia gazed at him unamused. “You aren’t an anchor because you fill another role. You're the glue in this weird little pack we’ve got going. And being the glue carries a lot more significant weight than any anchor. That’s why I want you to hold everyone together and make sure they’re ok.”

“Make sure Jackson’s ok?” Stiles surely hadn’t missed that the pair was closer after the hospital incident. Despite that Lydia was still peeved with Jackson, (and practically making him her house elf) something about them changed. He knew they were only one argument away from a serious make out session and then getting together.

She rolled her eyes. “I care for the others too you know.”

Stiles caught her looking across the locker room at Aiden. He was flirting with Harley Harlowe as she painted half of his face green and the other silver.

And with that, Lydia turned back to him with a wicked grin. “Now hold still while I draw a snake choking a lion on your cheek.”

Stiles laughed and let Lydia do as she pleased.

 

|~~***~~|

 

“Everyone got their war paint on?”

The team nodded. “Good.” They stepped closer to the pitch, mounted their broom, and soared.

The Slytherin team flew with a sharp boom as they flew around the stadium. They soared around the pitch, engrossing in the stadium cheering. Stiles smirked as they finally lined up across from the Gryffindors. Scott was grinning at him with an air of superiority. And oh, wasn’t that hilarious, when Slytherin now had a fighting chance against them.

“All right Captains shake hands!” Finstock shouted from the bottom of the pitch. Jackson squeezed Scott’s and Cora’s hands with a grip that would bruise a normal human, but being a werewolf had certain advantages.

“Ok you idiots know the rules. I’m not even going to repeat them.” And without warning, Finstock blew his whistle and threw the Quaffle into the air.

It was a short race between Scott and Jackson on who was going to get the ball first, and it was Jackson to take it. Without hesitation, he passed it to Aiden.

Aiden soared to the Gryffindor posts, but Ethan slammed into his brother with a force. With quick speed, Ethan flew to the Slytherin post, shooting past Danny. Danny caught the Quaffle with a hiss. He sent a flirtatious wink to Ethan before throwing the Quaffle to Stiles.

Stiles flew upside down to avoid Ethan and Scott. He let the Quaffle drop, knowing Jackson would be there. Jackson grabbed the ball and headed back to the opposite posts. The three Chasers kept the ball from the Gryffindor Chasers by passing without any hesitation until they made it to the other side. It was Jackson who made the first point.

After that, the game became much more intense.

Playing with werewolves was an explosion to put it lightly. The game moved quickly and harshly. People were kicking the Quaffle with the ends of their broom and feet. Players flipped over each other to steal the ball or to avoid being hit by a bludger. Which was an issue that Stiles and Jackson did not take into account. They expected Danielle’s and Heather’s aim to lack when there were two werewolf chasers on the opposite team, but in reality the girls’ hit rate was at nearly 90 percent. The two girls could rival Unger and Reddick who were incredible Beaters as well. But thankfully, Jackson had let Unger and Reddick use him as target practice to get them unknowingly accustomed to werewolves. So each time, Heather or Danielle managed to get them hanging off their brooms, there were Unger and Reddick doing the same to the opposite team.

Speaking of which, Unger shot at bludger at Scott. Scott groaned in pain as the Bludger caused him to lose balance, giving Stiles enough time to steal the Quaffle. He knew Scott would regain his composure so Stiles passed the ball to Jackson. Jackson scored.

The commentator announced a tie, 80-80.

Stiles hoped that Malia saw the Snitch soon because everyone was getting winded pretty quickly. And thankfully just like that, both Malia and Cora saw the flickering golden ball.

The two girls shot into the air as the snitch headed straight up. They flew nearly three hundred feet into the air. The cold air bit at their skin unkindly, but neither was willing to relent as they pushed and shoved each other. Everyone held their breath. When it seemed like Cora was going to grasp the Snitch, the Snitch switched directions shooting straight down. Now there were two options: stop the broom and then switch directions to safely descend, or recklessly flip over and take a complete nose dive down. Surprising everyone, it was Malia who chose the reckless option. Disregarding safety, Malia plummeted to the ground to keep up with the Snitch. Pulling her broom at the last second to avoid colliding with the ground, Malia caught the Snitch.

The entire stadium held their breaths for a few seconds. Where it was then followed by cheers from the Slytherin stands and groans from the Gryffindors.

The entire Slytherin team flew towards Malia. All the boys crowded her and lifted her into the air where she proudly displayed the golden ball still clutched into her hand.

 

The Slytherin team came out in good cheer from the Slytherin locker room. Stiles laughed when he saw his friends waiting for him outside the locker room.

He groaned when Erica threw her entire weight at him. She squeezed hard until Stiles was clawing at her back for air. She pulled back slightly, kissing his cheek, congratulating him. The kiss would have been completely ignored if were not for the fact he felt a tongue, tickling his cheek. “What the hell, Erica!” Pushing her at arm’s distance, he saw what caused the wet flicker across his cheek.

Erica was wearing a tight fighting dark silver dress while a plush snake hugged around her body, where the snake’s head rested on her shoulder. The snake occasionally moved and flicked its pink tongue in Stiles’ direction. Stiles smiled at her costume and his grin increased when he saw the others.

Isaac had his entire head and hair charmed with red and gold streaks with clear lettering across his face, ‘Erica no tampering!-Cora’ Boyd on the other hand was jostled into Erica’s scheme as he was unwillingly painted green with a giant silver S in the middle of his face.

Derek’s face, made Stiles laugh though. He had two broad streaks under his eyes, one in red and gold the other green and silver.

“Erica and Cora decided to share your face?” Stiles asked with a grin.

Erica snorted, she leaned her weight on Stiles, flicking her blonde hair over her shoulder. “Believe it or not, that was all him.”

“Aww Derek!” Stiles teased; he placed a hand over his heart and swooned. “You shouldn’t have! Cheering for your pack like that!”

“Shut up.”

Everyone snickered. A few seconds thereafter, Jackson emerged with Danny and Lydia.

“Good game, Whittemore!” Erica cheered.

Jackson paused and took her apparent attire with an air of amusement. “Nice costume.”

“Thanks! Won’t be wearing it when Hufflepuff kicks your ass.”

“As if Reyes.”

Lydia huffed. “Before this turns into a hair pulling match. I’m inviting you bunch to celebrate Slytherin’s fantastic game today in the Slytherin Common Room, be there at six.”

Isaac pursed his lips in thought. “Are you inviting us cause you want to or because Derek is the only one old enough to buy the alcohol and we are being invited as proxy.”

Lydia smiled. “Take it as you wish, although I do expect you Derek to bring firewhiskey.”

Derek glared, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’re prefects. We aren’t supposed to be condoning this behavior.”

Everyone sent an indrecelous stare in his direction, forgetting that Derek actually took his prefect duties very seriously.

“I’ll convince him Lydia, don’t worry.” Stiles assured.

Everyone snorted at that.

“Wait, dungeons?” Erica asked. “That’s kind of morbid. I say no.”

Lydia did an epic eye roll. “Well, don’t come.”

Erica pulled a face, but it softened when she saw Cora and Scott. Stiles was impressed her eye was the only thing to twitch as she saw Allison with them. Her eyes then lit up. “I’ll throw my own party to celebrate, Stiles, you have no say in this, you’re coming.”

Lydia stepped forward. “Excuse me, are you trying to compete with me? With a party?”

“Yup.”

“Are you forgetting, I’m a pureblood? We are known for our extravagant parties.”

“Well I’m muggleborn and muggles throw better parties believe me.”

“You know Lyds,” Danny interrupted. “Having a party somewhere else wouldn’t be a bad idea. You're inviting a ton of people and Blake will throw a fit at that.”

“Ravenclaw Common Room then. Harris lets me get away with anything.” Lydia informed.

“Hmmm…” Erica scrunched her face. “Yeah, it doesn’t matter where you throw it when people will be coming to mine.”

Lydia narrowed her eyes. “I’m the most popular one in this castle.”

“You sure about that?” Erica cocked a hip, licking her teeth.

Lydia’s gaze looked over Erica’s body. Everyone there knew that Erica had become as much of the center of attention as Lydia after her transformation.

“Cora, Scott,” Erica said. “Invite all the Gryffindors fifth years and up to my party.”

“Why would I help you celebrate a party for the Slytherins?” Cora glared, still a little teed off at her loss.

“Then let it be a party to mark the start of the Quidditch season.”

“I think that sounds like a great idea!” Allison chimed innocently. “House unity and all.”

Lydia sent Allison a glare.

Stiles laughed nervously at the quickening animosity. He jumped over and pulled both Erica and Lydia underneath his arms. Both of them sent murderous glares at the close contact. “How about both of you make the party together?”

Lydia and Erica glared at each other. “No.” They said in tandem.

Both girls then forcefully removed themselves from Stiles causing him to the fall to the ground, then both girls dramatically turned around going their separate ways.

Cora sighed. “I better go to make sure she doesn’t spell one of her heels to attack a student...again.”

Allison took off toward Lydia with the same excuse.

When all the girls left, all the boys looked at each other warily.

“Should we be worried?” Isaac questioned.

“It’s just friendly competition,” Scott said innocently.

Jackson huffed. “You have not met Lydia then.”

Boyd grunted. “And in case you haven’t noticed, Erica is—”

“—Psychotic?” Stiles inputted.

“I was going to go with sadistic, but that works well too.” Boyd muttered.

Derek sighed and turned to his pack. “Make sure this doesn’t get out of hand.” He ordered.

The others nodded, taking the mission very seriously and left to make preparation for battle.

  
Meanwhile, Danny stared at the entire confrontation with utmost confusion. He had the weirdest friends.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I have a lot to say. Well midterms are almost over and I can finally catch a breather and my birthday is coming up in less than two weeks which I’m so stoked for.. Also, look how much I love you guys writing a 11,000 words just for you. I want to say thanks to all the amazing feedback I have been getting, and c’mon guys just one bookmark away from 150!
> 
> But because I love feedback, I was wondering if you guys could answer a few things for me:
> 
> 1\. What do you think Stiles animagus/patronus would be? I will write it much later in the series but I wanted to start thinking about it now. Just write the animal and your reasoning. If I like what you write I will give you full credit later in the story. 
> 
> 2\. Also, the book of Moonwalkers. How many of you guys would be interested in a complete work on the history and origin of them, with also recipes for Potions and spell instructions? I have the book outlined in my head and few stuff written down for other chapters, but if I get enough feedback and love I will write more as a separate work.
> 
> 3\. And then most of all. What did you think of this chapter. Sterek? Allison’s and Derek’s apology? Stiles accepting Allison? Lydia? The History of Moonwalkers and werewolves? (As an aside, when people say you are mixing Greek and Roman Gods. What are you doing? It has been researched that several people worshiped both. They are the same God just under different names) Love to hear everything!
> 
> Hmmm...what else. I think that’s it. Please review por favor.


	27. Final Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final moments before the ritual.

Erica walked around Stiles who stood in the middle of the Room of Requirement.

“Erica, you are waging a terrible war, you have to stop.” Stiles tried to justify.

She huffed in exasperation and did her best to tune out the hyperactive Slytherin. Instead, her attention drew to the annoying noise her heels made on the cobblestone floor. She looked to the grim stones and smirked. Stiles sighed as the floor transformed into what was the equivalent of the enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall as a midnight sky.

“Erica!” Stiles shouted to get her attention.

She finally turned to him, hair flipping over her shoulder. “ _What?_ It’s friendly competition.”

“Yeah no one is going to say that when someone’s party gets chosen over the other. _Cora!_ Say something!”

Cora, who had thought of a comfortable bean bag chair, sat in a corner of a room reading Quidditch Weekly. “I’m just here as substitutional parental supervision as Derek takes a ‘bathroom break’.” She made air quotes around that. “Don’t bring me into this.”

Erica placed a hand on her hip. “I thought you were here for moral support?”

Cora gave a serious face. “Totally.” Cora said monotone.

“Whatever. Where’s Boyd and Isaac?” Erica questioned, tapping her heel against the new floor.

“Well, Isaac is attempting to get Derek out of his ‘bathroom break’ while Boyd just straight out said he’s not going to be part of this bullshit vendetta.” Cora answered, flipping a page.

“It’s not. And c’mon, Cora, you dislike Lydia as much as me.”

Cora smiled evilly. “My dislike has turned into indifference after I found out how much that annoyed her more.”

Erica snarled, calming her breath. She was about to utter her annoyance when the door opened.

“ _No, Allison!_ ”

Erica turned curiously as she saw Allison and Lydia enter the room, albeit Lydia seemed to be dragged here against her will. Erica couldn’t help but smirk confidently when Lydia eyed the nearly party-ready ro om with shock.

“How are you so ahead?” Lydia gaped.

Erica shrugged. “Maybe I’m just better at parties than you.”

Lydia’s eyes narrowed. “Doubt it.”

Allison smiled sweetly. “Stiles, you should go.”

“Are hexes going to be thrown?”

“I’ll keep the hexes to a minimum. No worry. I just want a conversation between all us girls.”

Cora groaned; she pushed herself up. “Yeah that’s not my cup of tea, I’m out.”

“Not mine either.” Erica stated. “How bout you two just go.”

Allison stood firm. “Please.”

There was a sincerity in her tone that made Erica hesitate. She felt several conflicted emotions toward the French girl. She was the reason her pack had gotten hurt but she had also sworn on her magic to avoid hurting them. Erica finally wavered. “Cora, stay. Stiles, get the fuck out.”

“I’m worried that blood might be shed and as a friend who cares for you all—” Stiles trailed but all the girls cut him off.

“Get the hell out, Stiles!”

Stiles eeped but stepped out of the room.

“Ok what do you want?” Erica cut straight to the chase.

Allison perked up. “I want to ask why are we fighting?”

“Well,” Cora interrupted. “You’re a hunter and...” she turned to Lydia seriously, “...you’re a pretentious brat.”

Lydia’s eyes narrowed. “At least I’m not a harpy,” she turned to Erica, “or dress like a whore.”

“Said the slut.” Erica countered.

“Slut shaming? Oh c’mon, Reyes I thought you were better than that.”

“I could say the same about you. I thought name calling was far beneath you.”

“Not when it comes to criticizing appearance.”

“Oh? We going to do that?” Erica leaned back. “Skirt is three inches shorter than the school dress code allows.”

“So is yours.”

“Mine is one inch. I just have amazing long legs unlike some people.”

“This is good,” Allison interrupted. “Getting all the emotions out.”

“Aren’t you the little princess?” Erica snarked.

Allison narrowed her own eyes dangerously. “I’m just trying to have us get along.”

“Why? I think the arrangement we have now is perfectly fine.” Cora crossed her arms over her chest.

“Because I saw this happen at Beauxbatons. Two opposing girl cliques fight over popularity to be on top and then both get seriously hurt. When in fact, they could have bonded and set their differences aside and ruled the school together.”

“I’m not a big fan of sharing.” Erica inputted.

“Agreed.” Lydia hummed. “C’mon Allison. I know you are trying to play the mediator but I like this back and forth fighting.”  

Allison paused trying to think of a different tactic. “Why? Fighting is what makes you hate me. Why is it ok for you three to fight and not me?”

Cora scoffed. “Because we aren’t hunters.”

“I didn’t ask to be one. I was born into it.”

“Doesn’t matter. I was born a werewolf but you don’t see me attacking everyone. It’s called control try it sometime.”

Erica saw Allison’s defiance shine proudly. But face to face and actually having a real conversation, Erica felt like she understood Allison in some strange way.

Epilepsy was a condition that Erica had been born with and she couldn’t control it unless it was through heavy medication that left her feeling numb. The condition embedded itself in every part of her life and caused more than just seizures. It made her feel inferior, angry, and dispirited, where all she wanted to do was withdraw from the world. She hadn’t told anyone about it, not even Boyd. It ate away at her and Erica knew it changed her. She wanted to stop the negative emotions but she couldn’t because they had such a strong hold inside of her. In a way it became part of her identity when Erica knew so well it wasn’t. But it sure felt that way.

Coming out of those pessimistic thoughts was difficult, becoming a werewolf aided in her healing, but there was still a noose around her neck, albeit looser than before. She hid it from her pack well through sly jokes, comics, narcastic remarks, but when she was alone, she could feel the noose become heavier.

Erica had a sense that’s what Allison felt of herself. Being born a hunter without a means to control it the way she wanted to was bound to create violence and irrationality, just like epilepsy created all those emotions in her. And obviously, if Scott was in love with her, her fierce nature wasn’t truly her real identity. So therefore, it was wrong for her and Cora to judge the French girl for something that Allison was trying to rid of her system.

The two girls were fighting the same battle.

Erica’s voice softened. “You think of your hunter status as an ailment, don’t you?”

Allison paused. “I never thought of it in those terms, but yeah, I guess.”

Erica glanced down at her shoes. She pressed her purple stilettos into a cluster of stars. The stars dispersed in different directions leaving only four that circled around her foot, treating it like their force of gravity.

“I control the Hufflepuffs.” Erica decided to say. “Cora who do you control?”

“Gryffindors.” She didn’t miss a beat.

“And Lydia?”

“Slytherins and Ravenclaws.”

Allison met Erica’s eyes. Erica shifted her gaze. Oh don’t let the flower child make her acknowledge that she was starting to like her.

Allison released a small chuckle, understanding. “See, my point.” Allison inputted. “Now imagine us working together? Erica how would you feel having the Slytherins at your mercy?”

Erica grinned. “Powerful.”

“And Lydia imagine having the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs at your worshipping disposal.”

Lydia pursed her lips. “I like where this is going.”

“Which brings up my point, why settle for parts of the castle when we can have it all?”

Erica gasped, “Why Allison, you conniving little bitch. I like it.”

“I could care less,” Cora said. “But if it means having the Slytherin boys do my every bidding…”

“Then its settled?” Allison questioned, smiling.

The four girls gave each other sly glances, agreeing.

“Ok then, well Lydia,” Erica asked the strawberry blonde. “Care to share your pureblood party wisdom?”

“Only if you tell me how muggles throw parties.”

“Of course.” Erica grabbed Lydia and showed her how the Room of Requirement worked. In between Lydia thinking about how to set the dance area, Erica glanced at Cora. The Gryffindor was eyeing Allison up and down hesitantly but there was this small little ball that was urging Cora to speak with Allison. Erica knew Cora had the farthest to go, but her friend was strong. She would get there.

Allison seemed to know that too. So Allison saved Cora the trouble and took the first step...

Allison approached Cora slowly with a smile. Cora tried her best to return it, but it was a genuine start. It was a start for all of them.

 

|~~***~~|

 

The walls, ceiling and floor had suffered in the delight of an explosion from the universe. They shifted through a rainbow of colors that glowed amongst the rowdy teenagers bouncing up and down at the music blaring from the large wirelesses at the corners of the room. Tables were set up at the far wall that were filled with snacks and several alcoholic drinks that were courtesy of the house elves who Cora had convinced to supply them with—since Derek proved to be utterly useless in getting them alcohol. Erica made her way to the drinks table. She took a swig of the Beetle Berry Whiskey set out amongst the other large bottles. It made her throat tingle, but that’s all it seemed to be doing. She had already taken ten shots and she still hadn’t felt any drunk inhibitions.

Well this didn’t seem fair. She never got the chance to experience being drunk before her turning.

“I’m surprised with you.” Boyd said coming up behind her.

Erica was startled. With all the students, several sounds, and scents, Erica hadn’t been paying much attention. “With what?”

“That you actually managed to get along with them.” He nodded to where Allison and Lydia were dancing together. Both of them were getting a lot of attention from the male variety of Hogwarts.

Erica grinned. “I wouldn’t say get along. More like four queens conspiring to conquer a world of men.”

Boyd chuckled, sipping his Dragon Barrel Brandy that he was carrying in a plastic cup. “Sure, whatever you say. But I’m happy you’re making an effort.”

She finally faced him. The random bursts of light shaded his face handsomely. She noticed two yellow stars floating on his cheek in slow lazy circles. He must have leaned up against the wall. But everything about him was perfect. It made her heart skip a beat and she prayed he didn’t hear it over the loud bass. “What’s that supposed to mean?” She finally managed to get out.

“It means that I’m happy that you’re slowly getting better.”

Erica’s mouth parted, a breath leaving her lips. Of course, he had known. He was her best friend. She nodded. “I am too.” She pushed her depressive thoughts to the side to bask in the moment. She grabbed Boyd’s cup and placed it on a random table. “Come dance with me!”

Boyd gave her a fond look, that made Erica want to blush, but he went with her anyway.

 

|~~***~~|

 

“So it happened,” Scott told Stiles as they watched pair latch onto each other.

Stiles watched as Lydia stood at the tips of her heels to manhandle Jackson to a secluded corner of the room as they made out. He could see over the crowd of student’s partying that Lydia was slightly blushing but pleased and Jackson was in the same manner too.

“Stiles?”

Stiles turned to his right. “Huh?”

“What’s wrong?”

Stiles clutched his Simison Steaming Stout in his right hand. The beer bottle was smoking so he took a sip of it, the vapors soothing his throat. “Nothing.” He then chugged the entire beer. “Everything is actually perfect.”

Scott paused. “I’m confused. The Love of your life, with a capital L, was whisked away by the Love of her life, and all you can say is perfect?”

Stiles finished the drink. “I’m over her.”

“What? Since when?”

Stiles smiled. “A while. It feels good. Being over her I mean.”

Scott smiled with him. He drank from his butterbeer slowly, mulling his friend’s confession over. He was thrilled for his best friend that he had come to this conclusion. Lydia was nice he could see that now, but Stiles had always been obsessed with an illusion of her. That wasn’t love. Well...Scott couldn’t proclaim what love was with full certainty. While he cared for Allison deeply, and most likely loved her, he wasn’t sure if he Loved her yet. He was a little too young after all, but Allison was great and he was pretty sure he would give up the sun for her.

“I’m happy for you.” Scott said.

“Why?”

“Cause it means you will know the difference what a real crush is and what’s just a fanatical obsession. You have a base for comparison now.”

“And of course Lydia freaking Martin would be mine.”

“Well you never aimed low when you were supposed to.”

“Never aimed high when I was supposed to either.”

Scott laughed. “Regardless. Good for you. And congratulations on winning the match.”

Stiles grinned. “Thanks. Hey, there’s Cora.” Scott followed his friend’s finger. He saw Cora speaking with Allison in what looked like a civil manner. He guffawed when he saw them laugh. “The apocalypse is upon us.”

Scott agreed.

“Want to piss off Cora?”

“Sure.”

The two walked around the room to the pair. They greeted the girls very briefly as Scott and Stiles grabbed Cora by her arms.

“Hey what are you doing?!”

“Dancing!” Stiles shouted over the music.

Cora tried to pull back. “Yeah. I don’t dance.”

Scott used his werewolf strength. “Yeah, we don’t care.”

The two boys surrounded their best friend on both sides and began to dance dramatically, which just involved flailing limbs. Cora tried to get away but they kept pulling her into their little sandwich. She finally gave up. She stood motionless as the duo continued their dancing fray. But when a song came on, that Scott knew was one of Cora’s favorites she began to dance with them, albeit less like a lunatic. They danced for about fifteen minutes until a slow song came on. The three joked around and made a sports huddle where they swayed back and forth. Stiles was a little tipsy leaning all his weight on Scott as they moved. Cora had her eyes closed, basking in the moment. Scott couldn’t be happier, having his two best friends beside him. He tucked his face into Cora’s shoulder, whispering in her ear. “Thank you.” She didn’t ask what for, instead, she reached inside her pocket and pulled out a deep maroon woven bracelet with a triskelion. Scott smiled.

 

|~~***~~|

 

The party was well into the night. Boyd leaned back into one of the booths against the back wall. Erica was beside him as they chatted aimlessly about random muggle things. He rested his fist under his chin as he took her in. Erica was beautiful. Her long blonde hair framed her sweet oval shaped face perfectly. Her lips were a bright ruby red, her brown eyes practically glowing under her smoky eyeshadow. But—Erica was always beautiful.

He had befriended her long before the bite and found her beautiful then. She reminded him of his older sisters, strong and proud. He was happy he had a friend like her. Even before the bite and before Hogwarts, Boyd had never had many friends. He had tried, but he never really knew how to approach people. He didn’t understand why he was this way when he had three older sisters who were all extremely outgoing, but Boyd had always been different from them.

When he discovered he was a wizard he was ecstatic and hoped for a fresh start with new people. But again that large self-conscious flag waved in the back of his head.

Being sorted into Hufflepuff didn’t help matters at all. Everyone in Hufflepuff was so giddy and so people-friendly. Boyd felt out of his element that he sorted of wondered if he was placed in the wrong house. After a while, he began to retract into his own bubble and everyone seemed to mistake his introverted personality with hostility. People then became scared of him, they very rarely spoke to him, it had become so constant that Boyd just sort of fell into that role. Except he never felt the need to display those false pretenses toward Erica.

No, she was too bright to fall for such façades.

He still remembered toward the last months of his first year, Erica shyly approached him and gave him a chocolate frog card. It was the start of their friendship and he was so grateful for it.

He continued to listen to her as he glanced around her party. His attention drifted when he saw Derek brooding in one of the dark corners, which wasn’t unusual in itself, but as he followed his line of vision, he saw him staring at the worst dancing trio ever, which included Scott, Stiles, and Isaac. All of them were doing some variation of the manticore tail which no man should ever do, if one were to ask Boyd’s opinion on such ludicrous booty shaking. But as Scott began to part from the group and dance with Allison instead, and Isaac began to dance with a pretty Ravenclaw girl, Boyd noticed that Derek’s eyes never left Stiles once. Strange...

“Hey, Erica? Boyd?”

Two peeked over the booth. “Yeah?”

Jackson looked uncomfortable. “Can you smell Lydia?”

Boyd took a moment to sniff the air. It was filled with the stench of sweaty teenagers and buckets of arousal, but if Boyd concentrated he could sniff out each pack member. Someone like Jackson, who was still fairly new to all of his abilities, wouldn’t have been able to pick out a scent. “No, I don’t.” He whispered.

He stood, knocking over a few bottles in his haste. He scanned the room frantically. He saw Derek once more, looking around the room in confusion.

“C’mon. I think Derek caught her scent.” Boyd urged. He dragged the two toward Derek who was already walking toward them.

The rest of the pack began gathering around.

“I lost Ethan’s scent.” Cora said quickly.

“I can’t smell Aiden or Lydia.” Scott said too.

“Shit!” Derek hissed, rushing out the door.

The others followed, unsure where Derek was taking them, but they all trusted their Alpha to lead the way.

 

|~~***~~|

 

The three ended up in a random secluded corner on the fourth floor of the castle. Waxed candles on their last flickers barely provided sufficient lighting for the trio as they stood next to an ancient looking mirror that covered a good portion of the wall.

Lydia leaned against the mirror unamused. The twins faced her, forced to look at their reflections.

“You knew?” Ethan asked her.

Both Aiden and Lydia rolled their eyes.

“Of course she knew, she’s known about this werewolf thing long before we even got bit.” said Aiden.

“If you were aware that I knew that must have meant you were faking and hiding from me this entire time.” Lydia nearly spat.

“You were faking too. Pretending not to know what I was, pretending not to be a Banshee.”

Ethan stood awkwardly between the fighting ex-couple. He brought the conversation back to its original intent. “Why did you want to speak with us?”

“I thought I could convince you two to stop.”

Aiden guffawed. “We aren’t going to.”

“Why?” Lydia asked appalled. She paused. “You don’t even know what you’re doing, do you?”

“I know what I’m doing!” Aiden shouted.

“Really? Then you know you are following a murderer?”

Ethan interrupted. “It was actually me who brought Aiden into this. We thought we could get out of the foster care system like this.”

“Oh? You couldn’t have waited two more years like normal people.”

“No we couldn’t.” Aiden said, losing patience. “We were done being passed around like hand me down toys. Deucalion found us and we fully consented to the bite. He’s been kind to us.”

“Kind? He’s planning on sacrificing you!”

“We aren’t sacrifices. He wanted a real family again. That’s what we are. He treats us like his sons, it’s more than we ever hoped for. Helping him has been out of our own free will.”

“You can’t be certain he won’t turn his back on you.”

“We’re willing to risk it.” Lydia noticed it was all Aiden saying this. Ethan seemed conflicted about this entire thing.

Lydia pushed off the wall, stomping toward Aiden.

“And if you happen to be there when Deucalion is killing my pack, are you just going to stand by and watch him?”

“He won’t kill you.” Ethan said softly.

“Then why does he have you spying on us?”

“We aren’t spying.” Ethan retorted. He seemed to have heard something only his werewolf hearing could pick up because he turned to his brother. “ _You’ve_ been spying on them?”

“Deucalion gave me the mission. He said I was the closest.”

“Closest to what?”

“He wouldn’t say.”

Lydia smiled sarcastically. “Keeping secrets? What a great family!”

“He hides things to protect us. That’s what he said.”

Lydia chuckled. “Of course, let’s all believe in the mass murder.”

Aiden sighed dramatically. “Oh don’t act like you care Lydia. You never care for anyone but yourself.”

Lydia’s eyebrows scrunched. “I do care. I care for you Aiden.”

“Oh really? You care for _me_? Is that why you were swapping spit with Jackson just a few hours ago?”

“Jackson is…”

Aiden’s attention drifted away from her and to his own reflection. “I get it...no need to explain yourself.”

“Aiden I…”

_“Stupefy!”_

The twins and Lydia ducked out of the way quickly. The bright spell instead hit the candles. The candles and candle holder clinked on the cobblestone floor. The light went out.

Spells were thrown overhead, lighting the corridor like strobe lights. Lydia fell to hands and knees, crawling to a safer spot. She found a random armored knight statue; she hid behind it. Clutching the leg of the armored knight, she threw a giant _lumos_ spell to the ceiling. The room became unnaturally bright. The sharp rays hurt her eyes, but she could see her pack with their wands extended, pointing them at the twins. She wanted to curse their stupidity, especially Cora’s and Allison’s because she knew without a doubt it was one of them who threw the first spell. Stupid Gryffindors.

But they had already laid out their damage.

The twins spared Lydia one last look before throwing spells at her pack. They had chosen their side.

She felt Stiles reach her first in the fray. She elbowed him out of the way to stand. She fired a few spells that were more to get all of them to stop. But it wasn’t working.

They were going to kill each other with the ways things were going. She eeped as the mirror shattered. Stiles pulled her to jump out of the way. When she turned back to the mirror, she saw the large cracks but also a tiny gap between the mirror and the wall. It was a secret passage. She got an idea.

_“Fumos!”_

A smokescreen spell covered the room. Everyone coughed at the potency of it and it in their haste to get away from it, Lydia whispered to the twins. “The mirror.” She hoped they heard.

Her hopes came true as the smoke finally cleared and the space was devoid of the twins.

She couldn’t even express her anger at the pack because she was too worried for the twins.

The twins though...they thought they were in the right just like her pack was...so what was right?

 

|~~***~~|

 

Derek headed up the stairs behind the gargoyle statue to the Headmaster’s office. The pack had finally come together and was planning on speaking with Deaton to finally find compromise and collaborate with each other. The others were with Allison getting her father who they had convinced a few days ago to join their side. They needed him to talk sense into the immovable Deaton.

He was about to knock on the door, but stopped short when he heard voices.

“Trying to avoid it isn’t going to stop it from happening. It is inevitable.” Derek could hear Morrell speaking.

“I am aware. I am attempting to quell it rather than aid it along.” Deaton said.

Morrell sighed. “If you truly wanted to then you would inform that boy’s father on where the ritual is occurring.”

Boy? Were they talking about Stiles’ dad?

“We can’t have too many people involved. Too many variables will blind us how this will occur and might cause more lives lost than necessary.”

“Then let’s do this their way. They can at least try to stop it, you need to have faith in them.”

“What if we can stop it by not having them there?”

Derek heard something slam. “Not having them there is basically giving yourself up as a slave to this. It will happen if we do nothing.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I am.”

There was a pause. “I don’t want to be a slave anymore.” Deaton sighed.

“You never were.”

“I am. And so were you at one point.”

“Being a former emissary was never a form of slavery. And your duty under the Hales isn’t either. Being an emissary is the lightest yoke of servitude one can ever have. It’s beautiful, it’s an act of respect...of honor. You’re serving them yes, but the way they commit to you as well, they treat you as equals. I don’t understand what changed about you, you used to see it that way too.”

“You were never disappointed in your Alpha like I was.”

“Are we talking about Derek or...?” Deaton didn’t answer. “Ah. Well then. It’s foolish to think that Alexandros Deucalion, _my husband_ of all people, didn’t disappoint me at one point or another in my life. I mean look at the mess he’s done now.”

Derek gasped under his breath. Morrell and Deucalion were married? He vaguely remembered meeting Deucalion when he was three years old. His mother had formed an alliance with him before he had gone mad. But Derek couldn’t actually remember if the two were a married couple, it made sense though, seeing as Morrell had nowhere to go after Deucalion’s sentence to Azkaban.

“If you were disappointed in him like I was with Talia why do you not follow him any longer. Why are you working against him?”

_“Derek?”_

Derek didn’t even jump since he had smelled Stiles at the bottom of the stairs.

Stiles gave him a strange look. “You ok?”

 _No..._ Derek wanted to say, but held back as he saw his pack come up the stairs along with Chris Argent.

“I wish I could place blame on you for bringing my daughter into this—but I know this was all her doing.” Chris stated.

Derek faced Allison, she looked a little sheepish but overall very confident in her decision to help them. Derek spoke to Argent. “I will do my best to make sure she is not hurt.”

“Thank you. Now, shall we continue?” Derek nodded. He was about to open Deaton’s door again, but paused once more when he heard their voices. _“—but the prophecy.”_  What? He caught the end of their conversation. He wanted to listen more but the others urged him to walk forward, so he did.

He swung the door open and both siblings looked startled. They quelled their emotions quickly to face to the others. Deaton stood, straightening out their robes.

“I’m guessing you aren’t coming over for tea?” Deaton questioned with a smile.

“We’re here to convince you on our plan to stop Deucalion.” said Derek with his most neutral voice.

Deaton’s smile didn’t drop. “It seems that’s what everyone has been doing.” He stole a glance at his sister. “Take a seat.”

The pack did. Derek sat along the large sofa, in between Scott and Stiles.  

“To make this as simple as possible, Alan,” Chris Argent began. “These students will be helping stop Deucalion.”

“I understand where you are coming from, Chris, but my school is not an army training camp—”

“It was, at a certain point,” interjected Morrell. “During our school years, all of us trained along with Derek’s parents, his aunts and uncles, Peter, Deucalion, Ennis. From what I remember, it was your idea to all train together. You even called it a werewolf army.”

Deaton sighed. “It’s not the same. That wasn’t sanctioned, there was no threat—”

“There is always a threat to our kind.”

“Besides.” Derek said. “Deucalion doesn’t seem to mind making Hogwarts a breeding ground for his minions. Ethan and Aiden both left Hogwarts last night.”

The adults were shocked. Deaton’s lips tightened for a heartbeat. “Are you sure?”

“Come now, Deaton,” said Lydia with a sigh. “We all knew they were working for him from the start. It was just a matter of time before they left.” Her voice trailed off slowly.

Deaton rubbed the bridge of his nose. “And if I agree to sanction this, how do you plan on going about it?”

Derek spoke up, already having the speech prepared. “Nothing radical. The pack still has training to do, but with Allison and Mr. Argent they will help train the others. Stiles has been forming detailed comprehensive notes on the pack’s progress and of the opposition gathered from his father’s notes on previous cases. The pack will be separated into groups. A group dealing with the fifty werewolves in containing them, another to deal with Ennis, Kali, and last Deucalion. We will set up traps in the Forbidden Forest. Stiles and Allison have already been forming mountain ash circles all around the forest.”

Deaton’s eyebrow arched. “I see you have been putting a lot of thought into this.”

“We’re serious about stopping this.”

Morrell smirked, “You heard their argument, Alan. You have no choice. Unless you think Chris, you, and I can incapacitate three Alphas.”

“Fine.” He nodded. “We will work together.”  

Derek heard the heartbeats of his pack quicken in excitement. “Naturally.”

“Stiles, may we please see your notes.” Morrell ordered politely.

Stiles nodded and took out his book.

The meeting continued as they began to make a detailed plan for the night of the ritual. Somewhere along the way, when they couldn’t plan anymore without going into the forest itself, Stiles’ role as a Moonwalker was brought into question. Stiles gave the adults the same translation he had given the pack.

Derek watched Deaton briefly as Stiles told his story.

Deaton proved to be an astute listener as always. He was quick, perceptive, and of course, horrified. It took Stiles a little longer to discuss the translation now, because somewhere in the span of a few days Stiles had put all his effort to translate more of the book on his own. He explained that he was not confident he would be able to translate the entire book in time for the lunar eclipse, but he had gotten to the section where Rhea defeated Lycaon.

The text was vague, Stiles said. It did not give much information on how Rhea defeated Lycaon only that she released her new magic on the beast. Rhea spent most of her time explaining how Lycaon groveled at her feet and begged for his life, rather than any actual struggle between the two.

Stiles mentioned, researching outside of the text to see if any works had any mention of the fight. There was, of course, no primary material that explained Moonwalkers, per se, but the wealth of theory Stiles had built up derived from primary and secondary material of indirect subject matter, was astounding. Stiles didn’t e ven glance at his research laid out on the table, but he spoke of it by memory, often saying that he found this footnote, or that cross-reference, or those citations, which led him to several relevant pieces of information. The most important that Stiles just didn’t have his magic on par with Rhea and there would be no way to expand upon his abilities without translating more of the book, which as previously mentioned he did not have enough time for.

But even with that simple drawn conclusion, no matter how intelligent Derek knew Stiles was, he still couldn’t get over how brilliant he could be.

The headmaster seemed to take it better. Deaton listened intently, along with Morrell and Lydia, interrupting once in a while to argue or expound on a point. Derek found himself listening just as intently as most of the pack was. Scott, however, just looked constipated.

When there was, it seemed nothing left to discuss, their secret meeting was adjourned.

The meeting over, Morrell left the room first, then Chris Argent and Allison. The others followed at their leisure, with only Stiles remaining behind.

“Wait outside, I’ll just be a minute, I want to have a word with Deaton.” Stiles told Scott and Derek as they stood by the doorway.

They seemed reluctant but finally left.

Stiles approached Deaton with ease. “I was wondering if I could ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“On a scale of one to ten how reckless would it be for me to take a Calming Draught the night of the battle?”

“Why would you want to take one?”

Stiles bit his lip. “The Auror Department uses them on aurors who are having magical outburst because of PTSD. It’s usually 98 percent effective according to my dad and I was thinking of taking it to control my magic. Anytime, I’m stressed or scared the red lights I told you about appear and it could actually be detrimental to the plan because the magic doesn’t discriminate. I could be attacking everyone, my magic might even kill someone in the pack.”

Deaton nodded. “I will make a batch and a find a way to mix it with an Alertness to keep you active during the fight.”

Stiles gave his thanks and finally headed outside to where Scott and Derek were waiting for him.

 

|~~***~~|

 

The pack plowed their way back to the castle through two feet of snow on a Tuesday morning. Everyone felt sore from Derek’s, and now Allison’s, insistent training. The pack would have continued for another hour if it were not for Isaac and Cora complaining about the mountain of homework that had reached an alarming height once again, so Derek was forced to let the pack go.

When they entered the castle everyone headed up the seven flights of seven stairs to the Room of Requirement, warming up by the fireplace. The fifth years pulled out their homework that they had left in the room the previous night when everyone slept over as they planned for the lunar eclipse. It was only a few days away and everyone felt absolutely stressed.

They worked in somber silence. Occasional mutters of what did you get for number three, or what other point did you make for your essay, sounded in the room. But no one dared to make loud rambunctious noise ever since Aiden and Ethan had disappeared from Hogwarts. Lydia took it the hardest obviously, but surprisingly Jackson did as well. Jackson had been left with the task to lie to Matt and Danny where the twins were. Matt who was the closest to Aiden was left somber, while Danny who had been dating Ethan for a few weeks apparently, merely took the information as passive as possible. With Danny’s and Lydia’s lack of emotion as of late, left Jackson feeling drained.

When the bell rang signaling the start of classes, all the students groaned. They had been awake since four in the morning and weren’t looking forward to the rest of the day.

The Gryffindors and Slytherins slinked into Finstock’s Charm class, thunking their head on the tables. Finstock babbled and shouted as usual but refrained from trying to wake them after a few days ago Cora had snapped in the middle of class.

The next period of DADA with Slytherins and Hufflepuffs was the usual. Everyone was paired into teams and began dueling. This was the only class that the others took seriously as they used it as practice for the lunar eclipse as well.

Stiles dueled with Boyd, taking turns with Isaac due to the uneven number of students in class. When his turn was over, he sat on the ground a few feet away. He watched casually as Jackson dueled with Erica. The two weren’t holding back at all, throwing hexes with complete disregard for safety.

“Mr. Stilinski?”

Stiles hummed, craning his neck. Chris Argent stood over him. At one point the man was utterly menacing, well ok he still was a hell of a lot menacing, but Stiles could now see a man willing to protect his family and those around him. He was just like Stiles’ own father.

“Yeah?”

“I need to speak to you and the others after class.”

Stiles nodded, knowing what that meant.

The class bell chimed and there was a small break before Stiles had to head to his Arithmancy class. Stiles, Jackson, and the other three Hufflepuffs waited for the class to clear out before heading to their professor.

“Please tell the rest of your pack that Deaton, Morrell, and I will be heading to the Forbidden Forest to finish up adjustments on the plan for tonight around ten. Make sure Lydia Martin comes with you.”

“Why?” Jackson asked suspiciously.

“Because she is the only one who knows where they will be performing their ritual.” He answered. The other’s didn’t have an answer for that so they merely agreed.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Around ten o’clock everyone ducked into the cover of dark trees. “All right Ms. Martin. Lead the way.” Chris Argent asked.

“Excuse me?” The strawberry blonde chuckled.

Morrell spoke up. “When you had your vision back in October you had it most likely in the sight that Deucalion will be performing his ritual. We need to get there.”

“I don’t remember where it is. I’m sure the others do, they followed me in there.”

“You never left your body. It was just your mind.” Allison spoke.

“Maybe if you concentrate?” Deaton questioned.

Lydia huffed. “I don’t know how to work these powers. They’re fickle.”

“We can always try roaming around?” Scott suggested. “It was closer to Hogsmeade than here so that’s something.”

Deaton nodded and began to head toward the village.

“How do we know for sure that Deucalion will come here?” Boyd asked to fill the silence.

“Because he knows that every auror will be in every forest in Great Britain looking for him.” Stiles spoke up.

“Yup.” Jackson said. “Plus, my uncle and Stiles’ dad believe that Deucalion will show up in the Forest of Dean. That’s where his pack used to live and its filled with magic already.”

“He won’t show up there,” Morrell interrupted assuredly.

No one questioned why she knew this. The entire crowd continued walking until they passed through the Hogwarts Wards.

“We can start with splitting into groups.” Chris Argent took over. “One group will head—” He paused when he saw that Lydia’s eyes had glazed over.

“Lydia?” Jackson questioned. He stood in front of his girlfriend, trying to shake her out of it. Lydia blinked slowly and then stepped out of the ring of mushrooms she had invaded upon. She blinked again. It was unnerving by the fact that everyone knew Lydia wasn’t acting like herself. It was like watching a lifeless doll. She began walking unconsciously away from the group.

“Lydia?!” Jackson’s voice rose in concern, trailing after her.

“Don’t worry.” Deaton assured, signaling the others to follow. “She stepped in a fairy ring.”

“A what?”

“When a tree is cut down or dies, mushrooms usually grow around that area. It’s essentially a grave filled with magic that fairies can harvest. Banshee are a type of fairy. The fairy spirits must have been aware she needed help.”

The others took the information in before hastily following after the petite Ravenclaw. They realized quickly that Lydia was only walking straight, if she ran into a tree that blocked her way, someone would have to guide her around it before she commenced again, if there was a dip or a mound someone would have to carry her up. It took about half an hour, but everyone knew they arrived, when Lydia began to scream.

Her shrill cry caused all the werewolves to sink to their knees, covering their ears.

Allison and Stiles rushed forward to calm the girl down.

“Lydia!” Allison vociferated.

The presence to her best friend, alerted Lydia to presence of safety. Lydia choked on air as if she had swallowed something and then sagged into Allison. The other girl held her close, rubbing circles into her back. Stiles kneeled close by doing the same.

“What did you see?” Morrell asked.

Lydia took a moment to breathe. Her eyes were out of focus as she recalled the vision. “The same thing as last time. The exact same thing.”

“Then we better start…” Morrell trailed off as she saw something in the distance.

The others tried to follow her line of vision and before any of the humans could react all the werewolves shifted and took off running. The humans ran after them, wands pulled out. When they got there, they saw that Cora and Isaac,who had arrived first, had a dark brown fox cornered against a tree.

“It’s just a fox,” Derek said. “Let it go.”

Cora and Isaac stepped to the side. The fox sprinted across the forest, looking back only once.

Morrell groaned bringing back their attention. “Can we get on with this?”

Everyone hummed in agreement.

The rest of the night was spent preparing. They set up traps along the forest, laid out illegal portkeys to transfer the fifty werewolves, and hid explosives. They were confident in their groundwork and felt assured that without a doubt they would stop the rising of Lycaon.

So when the night turned to morning, everyone felt confident to leave the forest and head back to the castle.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Over a hill in the morning, Stiles sat in the forest. He was surrounded by high slopes on each side and woods at the base of massive grey oaks, hundreds growing together; hazel and hawthorn were densely entangled. Stiles played with the coarse shaggy moss at his feet as he watched the many miserable birds on the bare branches wretchedly piped from torment of the cold.

It was the day before the fight.

He felt worried about his plight. He considered praying for a safe battle, but he wasn’t very religious nor was he sure he could place his friends’ safety in an unnamed figure.

He sniffed. The cold was making his nose drip. He cursed as for once again, he forgot to bring a coat.

_“What are you doing out here?”_

Stiles craned his neck as he saw Derek walking toward him.

“What are you?” Stiles replied, turning his attention back on the birds.

“Checking the traps.”

“I already did that. Twice.” Stiles assured. Derek approached closer, dropping his coat and Hufflepuff scarf, before he went to check the traps.

Stiles glanced at the pile of clothes beside him. Stiles let out an amused huff. He grasped the coat pulling it around him. He took the scarf next, making a ridiculous bundle that bunched under his eyes. He made unnecessary loud noises of content. “Thanks.” Stiles’ voice came muffled through the scarf.

Derek half-heartedly glared at him. “I didn’t say you could wear my clothes.”

“Yeah because people just shed their coat and scarf when its snowing.”

Derek didn’t have answer for that, so he wisely remained quiet.

Stiles examined Derek in the warmth that Derek had left previously from wearing his clothes. “Think we will be ok tomorrow?” Stiles asked.

“I can’t think it. I have to know it for my pack to be safe tomorrow.”

“Then, do you think we will stop Deucalion?”

“Merlin, I hope so.”

“What if we fail?”

“We’ll worry about that when we have to. Right now, we focus on this.”

Stiles smiled, “Since when are you Mr. Optimist and Rational?”

Derek faced him. “I’ve been speaking with Scott.” He answered truthfully.

“Ah, that explains a lot.” When he was about to crack a joke, he heard a twig snap behind him. The miserable birds flew away from the noise. He turned and saw the pack coming forward, he faced Derek again who just shrugged.

“We knew we would find you two neurotics out here.” Cora chuckled. “Did you check the traps twice already?”

“Three,” Derek replied to his sister cheekily. She rolled her eyes, sitting beside Stiles. She took in her brother’s coat and scarf on Stiles, but just shrugged it off.

Scott took Stiles’ other side. “I spoke to my mom. She said she has all the stuff ready for us in case anyone gets hurt.”

“Good. Anything else?”

“Laura’s coming over later tonight.” Erica said.

“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” Issac interrupted.

“Same.” Lydia replied. “And here I thought my fifth year would only be stressing about OWLs.”

“You have to admit this is more fun than studying.” Erica said, trying to lighten the mood.

“True.”

“And,” Allison continued. “We can’t forget how fun it was to train all of you.”

Isaac groaned. “Don’t remind me. I think you left permanent marks.”

Boyd rolled his eyes. “At least she didn’t make you run around the castle five times until you got the protego charm right.”

“Only five times!” Jackson shouted in rage. “You made me do six!” He pointed an accusatory finger at Allison.

Allison giggled, hugging Lydia beside her. “Lydia’s idea to make service hours more enjoyable.”

“I hate you all.”

“That’s ok, Jackson, we didn’t think highly of you anyway.” Cora said.

“Yeah or in anyway.” Stiles added with a smug grin.

“Hahaha you are bunch of comedians.”

“Mmm comedians. I don’t know. I think we’ll stick with our day job. The best and most beautiful pranksters in the school. Right guys?” Stiles teased, slapping both Scott and Cora’s thigh in playfulness.

“Course.” Scott agreed. “The beautiful voice of children screaming what’s going is the best form of payment and reward.”

“You three are seriously twisted,” Isaac stated.

The trio merely gave smiles at the compliment. The others then sat around them, huddling close together as they tried not think about the fact that this might be their last moments together. They made jokes, teased each other brutally the way only best friends could, anything to keep laughing.

Stiles smirked slightly at the high entertainment value that Erica and Jackson were proving to be with their banter, before turning his attention to Derek.

Derek was not laughing. He was looking at him with barely veiled worry and for a brief moment, Stiles was overwhelmed by the fact that someone was actually worried about him. He hadn’t felt that kind of concern from anyone outside his family and Scott.

Derek of course, didn’t voice his concern. Perhaps it was enough for Derek that Stiles understood. It certainly meant a lot to him, to know that someone was thinking about him the way Derek was.

Stiles looked around the pack, making sure no one noticed, as he reached over and squeezed Derek’s hand. He pulled back and when it seemed Derek was going to reach out for him, he let Stiles slip through his fingers. But it was enough for Stiles to understand _...I’m here for you._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such the wait! All these assignments and work came out of nowhere so I've been trying to balance the two. 
> 
> What did you think of this chapter? Deaton and Morrell talking about some prophecy...the Sterek scenes? The twins? The pack finally being pack? 
> 
> Also I will not announce who I choose for Stiles' animagus/patronus until it comes up in the story, which means you are still allowed to send suggestions. I will say when I have finally chosen one. 
> 
> What else...hmm..oh the Moonwalker book will be written not until I finish this series which is still a while because again I'm doing all seven years. I can't believe I'm doing this...
> 
> Please review por favor!!!
> 
> Also I usually do progress updates on my tumblr so follow me [here](http://twinklingpaopufruit.tumblr.com/)


	28. The Ritual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night of the ritual.

Everyone felt uneasy as the frigid, dark forest surrounded them on all sides. Any moment, the fighting would begin, and their pack would have to react quickly in a way that would mean minimal damage on both sides. Stiles clutched his wand with shaky hands. His body felt so unlike his own. A sense of calm tingled across his body but at the same time he felt like he was being shocked at the back of his neck to stay awake. He hoped the potion would work as he mentally went over pre-battle questions.

Did he remember his self-defense spells? Did he have his bag of mountain ash? Was he ready for the possibility of death? His mid-panic thoughts took a backseat as he heard boots crunch against snow.

“Where are they?” Isaac asked, coming out of his post, thus distracting Stiles from his thoughts. Laura reprimanded the Hufflepuff but left her own post as well when she realized no one was coming.  

One by one, the others left their stations, gathering in the center of the clearing.

“What if they aren’t here?” Cora questioned. “The twins knew that we would come into the Forbidden Forest. What if they told Deucalion?”

“They have no other forest to go to.” Deaton said, equally confused.

Derek huffed and marched to the strawberry blonde. “Are you sure that you had your vision here?”

Lydia’s eyes narrowed dangerously at Derek’s hostile voice. She didn’t even bother to stand at the tip of her boots to gain the upper hand, she had it with her voice alone. “I had told you all already, I am not sure. I don’t know how to control my powers, so don’t blame this on me.” Lydia jabbed one of her manicured fingernails into Derek’s chest.

Derek snarled.

Scott jumped forward. He separated the two gently and guided Lydia toward Jackson. “Ok, I think we just need to take a moment. We’ll just search the forest.”

Jackson snorted. “The lunar eclipse is in less than half an hour and all our traps are set here. We can’t search the entire forest you knuckle dragger.”

Stiles scoffed, using his whole body. “Then what do you suggest troll breath?”

Jackson stepped right into Stiles’ personal space. “What did you call me?”

“Enough!” Chris vociferated. All the teens jumped away from each other. “We’ll split up into teams. First ones to find something, just shoot up a jet of red sparks.” His words fell to deaf ears as all the werewolves began to desperately look around.

“I don’t think that will be necessary Chris,” Deaton stated. He looked into the forest, following Derek’s line of vision.

Soon all the werewolves caught the same scent. Their eyes flickered to their unnatural colors. They fought the urge to run toward the scent, instead they crouched low and jogged at a speed the humans could keep up with.

They ended up at the top of a cliff. Tangled tall but thick yew trees encircled a massive clearing. With the lack of covering, the clearing contained a nearly perfect circle of snow. Black lines drawn with magic were stark against the floor, nearly pulsating. But what drew their attention beneath the base of the cliff was the field of yellow dots. Every dot was a pair of eyes who belonged to some poor soul that had been bitten without consent. The sheer enormity of Deucalion’s pack frightened Stiles, and how very possible even without rising Lycaon, Deucalion could kill hundreds with these werewolves alone.

And then before any of the pack could react, two by two of the yellow dots fizzled out. The werewolves were committing mass suicide without Deucalion have to do a thing.

The pack went into action as quickly as they could, sliding down the steep cliff.

Several of the recently bitten werewolves paused to look at the new crowd, halting the ritual.

Deucalion smirked. “Don’t bother.”

“Deucalion, don’t.” Derek warned.

“It is my destiny, Derek. I have to raise this spirit to destroy the people who killed my pack. Make them suffer tenfold.”

“Raising Lycaon won’t just kill them. Lycaon will kill everyone. Including you. Raising a spirit that benevolent will cause everything to fall out of balance. You can’t use a vengeance streak to throw the world into chaos.”

“He’s right. Let. This. Go.” Morrell enunciated.

“Lycaon?” One of the werewolves Deucalion had bit, asked. “What is Lycaon?”

“A werewolf.” Derek answered. “With unimaginable power. Deucalion has turned you all to sacrifice you to this spirit.”

The remaining werewolves cried out in rage, the only two undoing so were the twins observing the confrontation with calculating interest.

“But you can help us.” Derek continued. “Don’t fall for Deucalion’s ploy and keep on living. You recognize this man, correct? He is the Headmaster of Hogwarts. He can help you, we all can, we will teach you to control yourselves. No one will know you are a werewolf.”

A werewolf cowering by Kali spoke in a meek voice. “But being a werewolf, it's a dark—”

“It’s not. It’s a gift and if you just give my pack a chance to show you that.”

Stiles watched as Derek continued to speak. It had been a unanimous decision that Derek would do most of the talking because he was the Alpha. Although, Derek had been against it, Stiles could see that Derek was taking it seriously. He was actually doing an incredible job on it, most of the werewolves were already wavering and inching closer to Derek.

Kali roared. “I’m sorry, but we aren’t here to negotiate! _Imperio!_ ”

The other two Alphas followed suit.

The unforgivable hit five werewolves in which their command was simple, kill the remaining werewolves. A frenzy began within the forest. The pack went into their teams continuing with the plan even though more than half of it had already been foiled by the change in location.

Erica, Allison, Chris, rushed forward to protect the werewolves. Erica lured the bitten werewolves into traps of mountain ash set by the humans, but somehow the lines kept breaking. Allison and Chris attempted to stop the compelled werewolves, but even their hunter training proved to be futile against werewolves with uncontrolled ferocity.

Stiles wanted to help them but across the forest, Stiles saw Deucalion’s gaze dart toward them, and seconds later, Deucalion was there to meet them into attack.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Kali dove toward them like a bird of prey, her toes and fingers elongating into razor-sharp claws. Laura skidded to a graceful crouch, confusing Kali for a moment, as Cora used her sister’s shoulder like a springboard. She flew into the air, distracting Kali who came into a stance waiting for Cora to fall. Isaac took the chance to bind Kali with several spells. Kali broke through them quickly with a flick of her wand and caught Cora right as she was going to kick her in the face. She grabbed Cora’s ankle and threw her several feet away. Cora skidded through snow.

Kali turned her attention to Isaac, thinking he was the weakest of the three, but Laura was there to make sure he was ok. With all of Laura’s strength, she bared her claws and she swung down, the pull of her claws against cartilage distinct.

Kali’s shriek filled the air just before the skin on her back gave.

Laura pulled out a large chunk of her skin, there wasn’t a lot of blood, as her body tried to heal, but it looked incredibly painful.

Kali bit down on the pain and reversed her spin in a heartbeat. Her leg came down to clonk Laura on the head. Laura felt her head spin as she crashed into the icy ground. Kali placed her foot over Laura’s head, pressing in warning. Cora and Isaac halted their attacks, baring their teeth.

“That’s right.” Kali smirked. “Not another step.”

Both young werewolves growled. “I’m impressed with your little operation here, but we’ve been planning this for years. A few children aren’t going to take this from us.”

Laura tried to move underneath Kali, but Kali dug her claws into Laura’s skull. Laura needed to get Kali away now.

Isaac and Cora took a hesitant step forward, but Kali drew blood. “I wouldn’t try that again. You are going to listen to me, exactly, are we clear?”

The fifteen year olds held their tongue but did nothing.

Laura shrieked when the claws dug deeper. “Are we clear?!”

“Yes.” The two muttered.

“Good, now kneel.”

The two didn’t comply; Kali went even deeper. Cora stole panicked glances as she watched her sister lose consciousness.

“I said kneel.”

Cora grunted, but fell to her knees. Isaac remained upright, his eyes staring coldly at the Indian werewolf. “You can’t housebreak me. I’ve received worse threats. I won’t kneel.”

“Isaac.” Cora warned. “That’s my sister, just do as she says.”

“No, you see I’ve received threats all my life. And I know the pain of one that is carried out. Hers isn’t one of them. She won’t kill Laura. She fears what would happen if they spill more werewolf blood than required.”

Kali sneered. “And what does a child know about pain?”

“Everything. To the sound of bone breaking to the pulling of flesh.”

Kali laughed. “Really? Enlighten me then.” She pulled out her wand, casting it in Isaac’s direction. “ _Ossis Effergo!_ ” The snap of bone rang, as Isaac’s shoulder dislocated. Isaac only flinched to take on the brute of the pain, but showed no emotion. He rose his arm to snap his shoulder in place. “Are you done?” He asked, his voice dark and eyes a deep gold. Kali was taken back. Her grip on Laura loosening. “Well, then. It’s my turn.”

Rage shot through Isaac. Isaac moved forward, claws raised. Isaac swung forward, deflecting Kali’s kick. Kali continued her spin, her claws at her feet ripping diagonally down his thigh, the pain made Isaac buckle to one knee, but he quickly stood.

Cora rushed to her sister. Laura was unconscious but healing slowly. It would take her a  while to wake up again. The Gryffindor sighed and then joined in with Isaac. Their grunts of frustration and pain, drowned out as the clash of werewolves fought around them.

 

Lydia, Jackson, and Boyd were not faring much better than the others as the three battled with Ennis.

Boyd threw a kick, landing in Ennis’ midsection.

He stumbled back, a displeased frown on his face. He came at them, he wasn’t very quick as the others, but hit after hit at Jackson and Boyd felt like train crashing into them. Lydia stood in the back with her wand extended, trying to throw a spell to stop Ennis while avoid hitting the others.

Jackson and Boyd made an opening. Jackson threw his knee into the base of Ennis spine and Boyd knocked Ennis’ legs from under him. Lydia took the shot. While they had banned fire spells in case they got out of control, Lydia, Chris, and Deaton had been exempt as they had the most control. Lydia drew back her wand, waving it as if though brandishing a whip. A long thin flame few from the tip, wrapping itself around Ennis.

Ennis howled as the fire wrapped tightly around him. Lydia smirked, pulling her wand tighter to draw the flames closer to Ennis’ body.

Her spell fell quickly when ropes closed around her own form instead. She struggled against the binds, trying to break them, but unable to do so, she fell backwards. Her fire rope faded into smoke, leaving Jackson and Boyd to take care of the Alpha once more.

Lydia managed to pull her wand arm free and cast an incantation, the binds fell from her body. She stood, scanning the forest for the perpetrator.

Her eyes darkened when she saw Aiden with his wand pointed at her. Lydia didn’t hesitate. The two began to duel, fiercely. Lydia and Aiden threw several hexes that were blossoming into deep flesh wounds on Aiden’s and Lydia’s body. A _stupefying_ spell she threw rebounded on a shield. Lydia turned sharply to her right as Ethan came to defend his brother. Lydia had her wand going back and forth between them.

“You need to stop.” Lydia warned, knowing she wouldn’t be able to take both in her condition.

Aiden smiled darkly. “Or what? Gonna kill us Lydia?”

Lydia scanned the forest carefully. Ten other werewolves had fallen, leaving fifteen left amongst the ones they needed to save. “No. Deucalion will kill you if you continue to help.”

“He won't—” Aiden began.

“Take a look around!” Lydia’s voice lost control. “Count them! How many are there?”

The twins took a few seconds to examine the other werewolves. “Yeah, that’s right.” Lydia bit. “There are fifty werewolves! And you are part of them! You are part of the sacrifice!”

The twins weren’t willing to believe. They shifted in front of Lydia, lunging at her. Lydia heard Jackson shout her name from where Ennis had him pinned. But Lydia was ready.

She had her wand extended, but from nowhere she heard a growl and a flash of light that caused the two werewolves to shield their eyes from the blast.

When the light fell, Lydia saw that Allison and Erica had abandoned their posts to help her. She gave them her thanks. Together the three fought the twins easily. Spells and arrows were shot, punches and kicks breaking bones. After a few minutes, the girls had the two boys surrounded as Allison drew mountain ash around them.

“Don’t die.” Lydia said and she began to jog toward Ennis to help the boys.

But then a large gust of wind blew through the forest. The several circles of mountain ash fell away, releasing several of the werewolves. Erica and Chris shouted in frustration. Chris attempted to grab the imperiused werewolves, but they kept slipping through his fingers and killing other werewolves along the way.

Aiden and Ethan now free, lunged forward and before anyone could stop them, went to two werewolves. They dug their claws in their throats and snapped their necks. Their bodies fell limply to the ground.

Lydia lost her breath as she watched the twins eyes turn from a golden hue to a bright electric blue. Lydia grunted in frustration and pinned the boys to the trees with a spell. With several advanced spells, she commanded the roots of the trees to rise and wrap around the werewolves. When the two were unable to move, Lydia took a moment to pant in exhaustion. “I hope you're getting what you want, if Deucalion kills you, then let it be.”

She turned her back on them and it was then Lydia noticed the black markings beginning to glow a bright red. The ritual was nearly complete. She rushed forward and went to help Erica contain the remaining werewolves and get them to safety.

 

|~~***~~|

 

A growl less than three feet away, ripped Stiles’ attention from the others to the the chaos of his own battle. He watched as Derek ducked and swept beneath Deucalion’s arms, bracing himself to heave upwards. Derek slammed against the Demon Wolf, connecting with his midsection, and he sprung from his knees, angling himself so he could deflect him whole-bodied and tip him to the floor.

For a moment, they all thought thought that Derek had succeeded, but then Deucalion shifted in midair, and Deucalion twisted himself out of harm’s way. He landed on his feet.

Stiles’ panicked as Deucalion began to march toward him. He threw up a protection spell, but in state of agitation, put too much power in it, which sent Deucalion flying backwards into a tree and knocking him breathless. Stiles gaped at the power of his spell. He turned the full moon above. Of course, his magic was tied to the moon, he was stronger just like the werewolves were.

He turned as Deucalion stood.

The Demon Wolf roared as he sprinted frantically toward Stiles. Stiles held his wand firm, getting ready to shoot another spell now with much more confidence, but Scott came in, guarding Stiles. Stiles was filled with dread, as Deucalion’s arms wrapped around Scott. With hardly any effort, he hoisted Scott into the air and then squeezed. Everyone heard the sickening snap of bone and Scott’s hoarse cry.

Stiles shouted. He raised his wand and brought forth the familiar spell he had used with Allison. A nearby branch sizzled with electricity wrapping itself around the tip of his wand. Deucalion paused taking him in.

Stiles shot the spell. Deucalion barely made it out of the way as the lightning cracked against the snowy ground. All that was left behind was a black sizzling mark. Deucalion placed his full concentration on Stiles as the Slytherin cracked the whip again. Deucalion dodged, but with his attention drawn away from the others, Derek caught him off guard.

He tackled the Alpha to the ground. Stiles took the time to call off his spell and go to Scott. The Gryffindor was already healing and sitting up. “How do you feel?”

“Really weak.” Scott muttered.

And Stiles knew why. A black shadow slowly began to inch closer to the full moon. Stiles could feel it too.

His head snapped to the right as Deucalion pinned Derek to the ground. “Everyone now!” Deucalion commanded.

It was then that everything happened too quickly for the pack to process what Deucalion meant.

Ennis knocked Jackson and Boyd unconscious for a few moments and killed six werewolves.

Kali quickly killed five werewolves while defending against Cora and Isaac, but it wasn’t much of a match for her as Laura was barely regaining consciousness. So all Kali had to do was push the young teens to the side and apparate away with a crack.

Stiles heard a second crack beside him and then he felt Kali’s arms wrapping around him, apparating away. He heard everyone shout as what felt like a hook pulled at his belly button taking him away from the others.

“Stiles!” Scott called out.

Derek managed to break free from Deucalion and shoved him a few feet away with a spell. He could feel his strength and magic diminishing as the lunar eclipse pulled in close.

“Go!” Deaton and Morrell shouted. “We’ll take care of him now.”

Derek nodded and stood up.

“Where did they go?” Scott panicked.

“This way!” Allison cried, her bow and arrow already drawn. “I heard the second crack from over there.”

Allison, Scott, and Derek took off sprinting. Kali hadn’t gotten very far away, they noticed gratefully.

While the lunar eclipse finally shone down on them, Kali was still stronger than Stiles could ever hope to be. She had his back pressed against her front, arms tightly locked around him.

“Let him go!” Allison cried, drawing her bow in Kali’s direction.

Kali smirked. “This boy is too precious.”

Allison glared, she threw an arrow. It landed in Kali’s shoulder. The woman roared, but didn’t let go. Instead, she reached for her wand, still holding onto Stiles. “ _Ossis Effergo!_ ” The spell hit Allison. Allison fell to the ground as the spell snapped her ankle. Allison shouted, clutching her ankle. Scott kneeled by her, unable to discern which problem first.

Stiles didn’t want Scott to choose. He could take care of himself. Stiles in all his panicked state, remembered what Derek had taught him. While Kali was only an inch shorter than him, he managed to snap his neck back and headbut into her. Kali cried out in pain and her grip loosened. Stiles took the moment to slip away, but then Kali’s claws sunk in at the last moment. Stiles screamed, trying to pull away. Her claws pulled across his stomach instead.

Tears fell down his cheeks as he cried out in pain, falling to the ground. He did not even recognize his own voice. It sounded so deranged like a wounded animal. His back caved in as he kneeled on the forest floor. He felt the blood pooling quickly across his front.

“Stiles!”

The Slytherin barely had the strength to turn his head. His cheek pressed against the cold ground as he saw Derek along with Scott and Allison. All three of them wore faces of shock. He tried to speak but he felt like he was choking on his own blood.

His three friends snapped as they watched Stiles on the ground. They screeched bloody murder. They charged at Kali. But the woman knowing it would be foolish to fight them when the lunar eclipse was still strong, apparated away wasting most likely the only magic and strength she would be to use for the rest of the night.

“Stiles!” Scott shouted, hovering over him.

“We need to heal him.” Allison said, breathing bravely through her own pain. “Do any of you know healing spells?”

“One.” Scott said. “But its for minor cuts.”

“Just do it.” Derek growled. He gently flipped Stiles, letting his head rest in Derek’s lap. Derek’s hands stroked the top of his head to keep him calm, but Stiles was breathing too quickly and crying too much to be well aware of anything.

Scott pulled out his wand. “ _Episkey!_ ”

In Scott’s weakened state due to the lunar eclipse the effect of the spell had even less effect than it normally would. It only formed a very thin scab across the five deep claw marks. Blood was already began to seep through the scab.

“We need to get him help now.” Derek said voice quickly rising in panic as he lifted Stiles. Scott took Stiles other side. Stiles wheezed in pain as more tears fell down his cheeks. His friends jostled and aggravated the wound even more each time they moved but he didn’t have any choice in the matter.

Allison stood up slowly, grunting from her broken ankle, but helped any way she could to make sure Stiles was being transferred safely.

As the four made their way back to the group, the rest of the pack was having trouble on fighting the remaining werewolves.

Chris fought with Ennis as Jackson and Boyd had both been too injured to move. But Ennis even without his werewolf strength was powerful. He grabbed Chris, bashing his head into the ground. Chris groaned, struggling to get up.

Ennis made his way toward one of the werewolves, trying to get away. Ennis killed him. He then made his way toward the twins.

Lydia gasped, knowing she had to protect the last two werewolves. She extended her wand. But by Merlin, she was frightened beyond belief. Ennis grabbed her wrist and threw her wand away. He took a step toward her.

Lydia threw a punch. It was probably stupid, and useless, but she jammed her tiny fist in Ennis’ jaw. She had been aiming for his nose, but she was too short to reach him, but because of it, Lydia’s knuckles met hard bone.

She reeled back in pain, but she felt a surge satisfaction when Ennis’ gave her a look of surprise. Quickly enough, Ennis’ got over the shock, his gaze reflecting amusement.

His red eyes flashed and with his wand, he had Lydia writhing on the floor. The _crucio_ was excruciating. Agonizing pain twisted every nerve in Lydia’s body, her body on fire, her bones snapping; Lydia couldn’t breathe.

Ennis’ flicked his wand, ending the spell. The pain of it still burning threw her body without relent. She could hear Jackson a distance off. “Stop it!” He cried in helpless rage. His voice was cracking as he threw obscenities in Ennis’ direction.

And then Ennis was kneeling by her, his claws grazing over her thigh. Lydia tried to kick him off but her body wasn’t responding very well after the curse. Ennis’ claws stroked her thigh and then dug in, drawing blood. Lydia cried out.

She blinked several times to staunch the tears of pain, willing herself  to recover, to reach for her wand, anything, but Ennis drew more blood, coating his hand in it.

She snapped her head to the right as she saw Kali apparate to the center of the field, her hand caked in blood and it dropping on the floor. _No._ Her mind went to worst possibilities. Ennis stood and walked toward Kali.

Cora and Erica seriously injured and bleeding, rushed to Lydia’s side, checking her wound over their own. They didn’t know any healing spells so they merely pressed their hands against the gash on her side. Isaac meanwhile was near the twins, making sure no one got to them. They were the last two left. They needed to live. Lycaon could not rise.

Deaton went into action throwing several spells in Kali and Ennis direction. Chris regained his strength and was helping him through the process. Pretty soon, they had the two encased in mountain ash.

Deucalion was now the only one out but he was dealing with his own problem.

“You can’t fight me, Marin.” Deucalion told Morrell.

Morrell went into a fighting stance. “You forgot your father trained me as well, Alexandros.”

She charged at him. With beautiful elegance Morrell attacked Deucalion. With Deucalion’s werewolf strength gone, the two sparred on equal footing. And it was a beautiful dance.

Their legs and arms criss crossed as they fought. But it was obviously Morrell who had the upper hand. She pulled out her wand and began to use her spells as an extension of herself, finding openings and throwing hexes at him.

Deucalion finally fell backwards, tree roots catching his wrists and dragging him down. Morrell climbed over him, reaching back to pull a dagger from one of the boots she was wearing. She leaned close over his body, their breaths intermingling.

“Marin!” Deaton shouted, rushing to his sister. “Think about what you are doing. Do you really want to kill him?”

Morrell blinked rapidly. “It must be done.” Morrell whispered. “This is the only way it will all end.”  

Deucalion closed his eyes.

Morrell dug the blade into Deucalion’s throat and pulled. Blood splattered into her face, but it was over.

The ancient runes that were glowing on the floor shined their bright elegance as the lunar eclipse began to fade away, and then as soon as the light shown it was gone in another second.

All of it was over.

Those that could stand looked at the surroundings. There were forty-nine dead werewolves lying limp across the forest. If one more werewolf had died...well...no one wanted to think about that.

A rustle from the bushes, set everyone on red alert, but when they saw Allison running toward them, they paused.

“It’s Stiles. He needs help.” She gasped.

Not a moment later, the boys appeared, carrying an unconscious body.

Deaton rushed forward, kneeling by Stiles. “I don’t know many healing spells.” He confessed.

“Deaton,” Chris said. “The Aurors should be arriving. The commotion should have reached Hogsmeade by now.”

“Understood. Isaac, Erica, release the twins.”

“What?!” They cried.

“Do it. Let them go to Hogwarts. I will deal with them there.”

Isaac and Erica released the binds. The twins took off running with no question.

“Laura take the wounded.”

Laura still healing from her head injury stood on shaky feet. There was still a gash on the side of her head. “I can only side-apparate with two at most.” She said as she saw Allison’s ankle.

“It’s fine. Take Lydia and Stiles now.” Allison urged.

Laura nodded. She grabbed both of them and with a crack the three disappeared.

“All of you go to the castle now. You can floo to Melissa’s house from my office. Chris, Marin, and I will deal with the Aurors go!”

The rest didn’t even question it. Scott and Derek helped Allison walk as they went back to the castle.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Derek felt that it was taking too long to get to the Headmaster’s office. Too many thoughts were flooding him about the current state of Stiles. He should have paid more attention to the other teen. It was foolish to even let Kali get that close. It was his fault that Kali had attacked him. And now Stiles could be…

Derek pushed first into the Headmaster’s office and tumbled into the fireplace. His hurried state made the fire burn at his clothes, but he couldn’t be bothered to care as he saw Scott’s mother. Fire wooshed behind him as the others piled inside the McCall home.

“Oh thank god!” Melissa gasped with a relieved smile.

The pack shuffled over to Stiles and Lydia who were lying on two separate cots side by side. Derek sniffed quickly. When he smelled that Stiles was still alive, Derek let himself release a shaky breath. He would be ok...

Melissa wrung her fingers together. “I closed the wound already but...”

“But?” Scott asked immediately, sitting on his best friend’s left side.

“Well deep claw wounds from an Alpha tend to turn people. I know Lydia won’t turn because she’s a banshee but Stiles—”

“He won’t.” Derek spoke, sitting on Stiles’ right. “He’s a Moonwalker, it should negate.”

Laura came into the living room, holding a moist towel to her head. “Are we sure about that?”

“Can we discuss this later?” Allison huffed in pain.

Melissa jumped forward and beckoned the girl to sit on one of the sofas. Melissa began to perform several spells while the werewolves hovered awkwardly over the wounded pack members.

All of them were still bleeding. Scratches and bruises littered every piece of exposed skin. Derek felt his throat close up as he looked at his pack. Derek felt guilty as he could feel wounds on his body already closing, his Betas would take about a week to heal from an Alpha’s claw marks.

“Why does Lydia still have scars on her leg?” Jackson asked, lifting her blanket to examine the wound.  His bloody hands stained the beige blanket.

“You can’t heal deep werewolf scratches on humans.” Laura said. She was lying on one of the large couches, reclining her head as her head wound tried to close. “Especially by an Alpha. Both of them will be marked for the rest of their life.”

Cora groaned in frustration. She sat by her brother to lean over Stiles. She placed her broken hand on his stomach. Everyone watched as the black tendrils swirled on her arm. “What? He’s going to be in a lot of pain when he wakes up and we all know he won’t take his potions. He’s always complaining about the taste.”

Everyone acknowledged this to be true which marked a rotation of leeching off pain from Stiles, Lydia, and even Allison for the rest of the night.

Melissa hovered awkwardly in front of all them. “Did you..?”

“We won.” Scott told his mom.

“Thank goodness.” She put on a brave face. “Now c’mon all you need healing too.”

“We can heal on our own.” Boyd insisted.

Melissa placed her hands on her hips. “Deaton gave me a few healing potions for werewolves c’mon.”

No one moved.

“I suggest someone sits on the recliner immediately before I have to drag you there.”

It was Scott who caved first. He let his mom fuss over him, spreading the potion on his cuts and bruises with a moist gauze. The healing potions cleaned the wound and staunch the bleeding, leaving only deep scabs across his entire body.

The others all complied after all of Scott’s wounds were covered in gauze strips.

“What do you think is happening with Deaton?” Isaac asked, leg bouncing as Melissa spilled some potion on the deep red and purple bruise where he had dislocated his shoulder.

“He should be speaking with Stiles’ father and my uncle.” Jackson said, where he had taken his perch by Lydia’s side and stealing pain, even though he was in immense pain himself.

“What is he going to say to explain for fifty nine dead werewolves?” Erica questioned, sitting on Isaac’s armchair. She held a towel firm at her collarbone to stop the bleeding from where Ennis had struck her.

Melissa flinched at the number but focused on the task at hand.

“Deaton’s smart.” Boyd said. “He’s quick to think on his feet and so is Ms. Morrell and Mr. Argent.”

“And my dad is good at covering up stories.” Allison agreed, where she had taken control of the recliner chair. She sent a smile in Scott’s direction as he had her swollen ankle in his lap as he took the pain.

“Yeah, the aurors will have questions, but when they see that an Argent was on the case. We’ll...they’ll let it go pretty quickly.”

“So it’s really over?” Cora spoke. “Thank Merlin. I can stop waking up at an ungodly hour by Derek’s and Allison’s training practice.” She laughed bitterly, trying to calm her racing heart.

“It helped didn’t?” Allison smiled, trying as well.

“Just barely.” Derek spoke by Stiles’ side. “If they had killed one more…”

Everyone remained quiet except for Jackson who scoffed haughtily. “No you are not going to bring my mood down. We got out and now we can relax. And I can play my Quidditch.”

Everyone rolled their eyes.

Scott turned to Laura and Derek. “What’s going to happen with Kali and Ennis.”

“Execution.” Derek said bluntly. “They escaped from Azkaban, destroyed villages, tried to raise a demon, they don’t really have any rights left.”

It was Boyd who thought ahead of anyone else. “What if they can get away with it though? They lie and said they had accomplices and in exchange for their lives they turn us in.”

“That won’t happen.” Laura said softly. “It’s kind of an unspoken rule amongst the werewolf community but we have a sense of protecting those like us over those who aren’t. No matter how angry they are they didn’t succeed they won’t tell anyone about us.”

“And the twins?” Erica asked. “Those two ran with their tails between their legs. It was revolting.”

“Deaton will deal with them.” Derek answered.

It remained quiet for a few moments until Lydia awoke. She sprung from the bed and then began to scream. All the werewolves howled at the high pitched voice, covering their ears. The only ones not affected being Allison and Melissa.

“Lydia!” Jackson shouted, trying to calm down the girl. “Lydia!”

The girl looked to Jackson and finally stopped screaming. “Jackson...”

“We did it,” Jackson said.

“We did?” She gasped.

“Yeah.”

Lydia sighed and sagged against Jackson.

“How is he still sleeping?” Erica asked, looking to Stiles.

Cora poked his cheek, but Stiles didn’t move.

“I put a charm on him. When his body begins to feel better, he’ll wake up,” Melissa said, finishing up with Erica’s gash on her right side. “Who's next?”

Jackson tumbled over, unwilling to leave Lydia’s side. Erica took Jackson’s place and began to leech pain off Lydia without asking.

The rest of the night carried on like that. Melissa healed everyone and then transfigured several cots in the room so everyone could sleep. It was only Derek who refused to lie down. He sat next to Stiles’ bed still taking the pain away. He felt agitated and upset as the hours rolled by and still, Stiles’ did not wake.

He knew the pain he was taking from the other was harming Derek’s own body, but Derek did not relent. Maybe if he took more of the pain then maybe Stiles would wake up.

As dust collected on the furniture around them, Derek’s weary state finally forced him to collapse.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Stiles’ chest and stomach were aching as consciousness slipped slowly back into his body. He opened his mouth to make a sound but it felt too hoarse. He tried to move his limbs next but even that was too much. After a minute, Stiles got some control and he was able to move his head.

He turned it to the side barely opening his eyes. He saw a blurry dark figure passed out at the side of his bed. The figure’s hands were wrapped around his wrist, covering most of his hand. He made a low hum, trying to clear the sleep from his eyes. It took a while but he finally did it.

“Shh.”

Stiles turned his head. He saw Scott hovering over him.

“Scott?”

“Shh.” He made a vague gesture at the others sleeping around in the living room. “We did it.”

“Yay...” Stiles cheered, voice still groggy. He turned his head to see who was the figure still holding on to him. When he saw that it was Derek, Stiles’ breath caught in his throat.

“Stiles?”

“Hmmm.” He faced Scott again.

“How are you feeling?” He whispered.

“Sleepy and hungry.”

“Well just try to stay awake for a few more minutes. My mom and I are making breakfast. We were going to wake the others in a few.”

“The famous McCall Deluxe Breakfast? Hell yeah.”

“K. I’ll come back in a few.”

Scott left the living room to head into the side kitchen.

It was then that Stiles knew Derek woke up because he felt the weight on his wrist tighten.

“Hey sourwolf,” Stiles teased. “Been keeping me company the whole night?”

Derek eyes opened with a glare, making Stiles laugh loudly. His laugh woke the other patrons in the living room, in which everyone threw some semblance of a pillow or cushion at him.

“Hey! Attacking the injured is not fair!”

Everyone made gurgling noises and tried to go back to sleep, until the smell of breakfast hit their noses. Everybody got up quickly after that. Stiles tried to follow after them, but he noticed that Derek was still holding onto his wrist.

“Uh…”

“How much pain are you in?”

“Huh?”

“Don’t lie. I didn’t.”

Stiles remembered their conversation clearly, so he nodded. “Hurts as if a dragon rammed into me.”

Derek nodded and removed his hand from Stiles’ wrist. “It works better if I get direct contact.”

Stiles understood, pulling the blankets all the way. He noticed several things. First that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. And second, five red large welts protruded against his stomach.

Derek’s hands covered Stiles’ stomach. Derek searched for Stiles’ eyes for confirmation that it was ok. Stiles nodded, gulping down excess saliva. He felt the pull of something against his belly and he didn’t have to look down to know that Derek’s hand must have been covered in black marks.

“I feel like we lost you,” Derek whispered in such a low tone, that Stiles wasn’t sure he heard right. He realized from Derek’s expression, he didn’t mean to say the words aloud.

Stiles cracked a grin, trying to lighten the mood. “Are you kidding? You can’t get rid of me. Not for a second.”

Derek snorted, but didn’t break eye contact with Stiles. Stiles felt grounded and calm by such a gaze. The pull at his stomach lessened its intensity until Stiles only felt Derek’s fingers trailing only slightly back and forth across the marks. And before Stiles could question the gesture, Derek pulled back.

Derek grabbed a shirt from underneath the cot and handed it to Stiles. “They’re Scott’s.”

Stiles nodded, grabbing the shirt. He tried to pull the shirt over his head but his wounds pulled at him uncomfortably. He expected Derek to help him pull the shirt down from where he had gotten it stuck between his head and arms, but all he heard was a snort and footsteps walking away.

“Derek!” Stiles shouted. “This isn’t funny, c’mon.”

He only heard more laughter from the rest of the pack.

He was yanked to his feet and then the shirt was tucked all the way down. “Woah.” Stiles said, vertigo kicking quickly.

“Do you always make this much noise in the morning?” Cora asked with a snarl.

Stiles’ snarled back, mocking. With Cora’s help, Stiles made his way to the breakfast table to join the rest of the pack in what was a breakfast celebration, Stiles wouldn’t forget.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Stiles had his hands tucked inside his pockets as he walked around the Forbidden Forest with Derek, Scott, and Cora. It was completely unfair that the next day those still attending Hogwarts had to go back to classes the next day. They just saved the world from utter destruction and chaos, the least they could deserve was an extra head start on holiday vacations. But no, Deaton had to be a sadistic bastard and made everyone attend and take finals. The utter torture!

Stiles grunted as he stepped over a branch. He still felt the pull of the wounds still tugging but other than he felt relatively fine. Everyone else was slowly healing up, Lydia although complained incessantly about the claw marks on her thigh which resulted in her searching the library like a madwoman for a heavy illusion charm.

The _Daily Prophet_ that morning had given the pack enough information of how the adults handled the situation. They were marked as heroes for stopping Lycaon, the bold lettering _**Hogwart’s Finests to Receive Award of Honor**_ , made Stiles a bid teed that the adults were taking all the credit, but Mr. Argent was nice enough to cancel his class final as a way to give thanks to the pack. However, the news that morning had also informed the others that Ennis had been executed earlier that morning. Yet, according to Deaton and Morrell, Kali had killed herself before her execution, but her suicide was left out of the papers so the wizard community could be happy in their bubble that justice was served for all.

Things were overall though running very smoothly.

It was a nice change after a hectic feat.

He and the others were heading back to the scene of the ritual to see how well the adults cleaned up. The rest of the pack would have been there but both Isaac and Erica were struggling to walk from their still healing wounds, which meant Boyd wouldn’t be leaving their side. Allison was with her father while Jackson and Lydia were with Danny to avoid any suspicion on their parts.

Rumors had flown over the castle of why the group had returned to Hogwarts the next day all beaten up. Stiles didn’t bother to pay attention to them since he was groggy from the pain potions Melissa had given him, but according to Cora they ranged in a scale from ‘highly amusing’ to ‘what the hell was wrong with the majority of Hogwarts’ students heads?’ ”

Stiles nearly tripped over a tiny rock, but luckily Cora caught him and steadied him. They reached the clearing a few minutes after that.

Stiles and the others paused when they saw Morrell at the clearing. She was wearing black pants and a black a muscle shirt. Stiles had never seen the older woman outside of her usual robes so he was little shocked when he saw her skin. Even more shocked, when he saw that on her right shoulder she had the tattoo of a wolf with a raven etched seamlessly into the hide of it’s fur.

She turned around to greet them solemnly.

The others stepped inside the clearing and noticed that Morrell had cast a spell to make the clearing unusually warm. They took off their coats as they watched Morrell continue her work. She was kneeling down, her hands covered in dirt as she planted a wide array of flowers. Stiles could see grapevine intertwined with tulips, irises, daffodils, lilies, and a single white anemone with a black center.

Before the others could ask what she was doing she replied, “The papers didn’t even mention the names of the people who died, the Daily Prophet just saw them as werewolves instead of humans. And because of that their families will never get a funeral. They don’t know if their beloved are dead or not. It’s sad. No one deserved to die last night.”

Scott stepped forward and kneeled by his professor. “Would you like some help?”

Morrell nodded with a soft smile.

The others crowded around her helping as well, until Derek asked. “Did Deucalion deserve to die?”

Stiles was shocked by the question.

Morrell didn’t even flinch. “No. But he needed to die.”

Scott’s eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t understand how the two are mutually exclusive.”

Morrell sighed, hands coming to rest at the top of her thighs. “Think about it Scott. His entire pack was murdered, he felt this was justified.”

Cora’s eyes narrowed. “Our pack was wrongfully murdered too, you don’t see the Hales trying to raise a demon.”

“But you were never wrongfully accused either. I was there when the hunters came and killed the pack. He tried to defend them and the only way was to kill a few hunters, but it was too late. The hunters killed everyone. I was able to escape before the aurors arrived and all they saw was a werewolf with dead humans on his hands. They disregarded all the evidence that the hunters were the ones to instigate the violence and that Deucalion merely acted in self defense. Deucalion got sentenced to a lifetime in Azkaban while the few hunters who remained alive got charged a fine for damage on the Forest of Dean, nothing else. If you take into account all of that, it’s easier to understand how he fell apart and decided to take dramatic action. Was it right? No.”

“Is that why you killed your husband?” Derek asked.

Stiles guffawed. “Wait you were married to him?”

“Yes. I killed him because I understood no matter what happened after the ritual, he would have to die. There’s a large part of me that still remembers the man I loved, so I would rather administer the correct justice by my own hands than by a ministry who didn’t understand him at all.”

They all remained quiet. They didn’t know what to say about that. Stiles never thought about any of this. He had known Morrell was Deucalion's emissary, but now knowing the two had been married was heartbreaking. Stiles couldn’t even imagine the pain Morrell must have gone through, watching her pack get murdered, her husband get blinded, her husband get tried wrongly, no justice given to her pack, and then watching her husband kill hundreds of people.

He wondered how Morrell was still so strong.

The woman was a little a cold and distant but petty emotions like that didn’t seem to compare to the severity of the situation. He had a newfound respect for the woman.

“Now,” Morrell stated, taking the white anemone and planting it at the head of the flowers. “Let’s finish up and head back to the castle. You still have finals to take.”

Yeah, Stiles definitely respected the woman.

 

|~~***~~|

 

The only real problem that surfaced after the ritual was from the twins. The pack stood around Deaton’s office as the twins cried and begged for forgiveness. Stiles and the others were finding it difficult to forgive them. The twins knew of Deucalion’s plan and had killed two people last night. As far as Stiles knew, that was a one way ticket to Azkaban. But Deaton took pity on the twins. He let them continue their trek as students as long as they didn’t cause any more trouble. The twins were also allowed to stay at Hogwarts for the break seeing as they no longer had a home to go back to. The twins took the news with utmost gratitude and told everyone that they would do their best to make it up to everyone.

The others weren’t so sure, but as long as they were under the watchful eye of Deaton, the pack tolerated the twins. The pack felt uncomfortable trusting them so willingly and they all knew it would take time on their part. But the matter wasn’t as big considering they had stopped Deucalion rising a pretty shitty evil spirit.

So the rest of the week went by.

Finals took place, Stiles complained that he didn’t have the time for a holiday prank, all of them had nightmares from the horrors they witnessed that they hoped would fade hopefully over time, and they all laughed and hung out during daylight hours.

When they boarded the train to finally head for holiday vacations, they rejoiced. They knew the rest of their Hogwarts years would be filled with happy memorable adventures. It couldn’t have been more perfect.

 

|~~***~~|

 

A figure covered in a dark cloak stood above Peter’s bed. The werewolf appeared to be brain dead but he was well aware of his surroundings.

So when the figure spoke, “They’re all dead. It’s up to you now...”

...Peter’s hand twitched. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaand done with Arc One!!!! Wooh! 
> 
> Oh man, this was a joy ride to write. There will be an interlude next chapter before I start arc two, but yeah. You have no idea how excited I am to have finally reached this point. I want to say I love all you guys so much for reviewing or showing your support, it has all helped me write more. 
> 
> Tell me all the stuff you thought of this chapter? Fight scenes? (which was so hard to write cause I'm only used to writing two characters not fifty plus) Sterek? Isaac? Morrell? Twins? Peter? I love all your opinions. 
> 
> Oh and case anyone is curious--this is what Morrell's [tattoo](http://fc06.deviantart.net/fs71/i/2010/172/5/7/Raven_Wolf_Tribal_by_rinryu.jpg) looks like 
> 
> And then you should look up white anemone flowers. They are gorgeous! They are my second favorite flower next to daffodils. 
> 
> So yeah, tell me stuff you would like to see next chapter and all that jazz.


	29. Interlude:Shake it Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pack relaxes during the break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long interlude for all my lovely readers...I wrote this entire chapter listening to Florence + Machine "Shake it Out" nonstop so it's a huge inspiration writing this. If you want to listen to this while reading it go ahead.

Their feet crunched against the blanched pavement as they made their way off the bus. The air swirled into their lungs almost painfully cold, but they huffed through it as their hearts raced brightly and just as strong as the streets that brilliantly sparkled from Christmas decorations.

The sound of frequent cars on their way to buy last minute gifts at late-night open shops made slushy noises against the streets. Stiles laughed at the strange noise and continued onwards with Scott by his side until they reached their destination. A picturesque white home gleamed brighter than the others.

Stiles was the first to ring the doorbell.

Scott balanced the pans to a more comfortable position. “Derek is going to kill us for showing up uninvited.”

Stiles laughed, he placed the large bag he was holding in between his feet to warm up his hands. “Hey, this was your idea.”

“It was my idea to come and give them a warning, not show up on their doorstep at ten at night. What if they’re sleeping?”

Stiles scoffed. “Who sleeps at ten?”

“Normal people.”

“And we’re normal?”

The door opened. “ _Normalcy is overrated._ ”

“CORA!” The two boys cried.

They jumped through the doorway to hug their best friend. Cora closed the door with her foot as the boys headed over to her kitchen to place the dishes they had brought. “Sure come right in.” She said monotone.

They finally looked at Cora. “What the hell are you wearing?” Stiles pulled at her purple crochet knit sweater. It wasn’t ugly at all but it was entirely girly for Cora to be wearing, Stiles thought. Something maybe Allison or Lydia would own.

Cora shoved him. “Shut up. And what are you?”

Stiles displayed his red coat proudly. It had a bright green Christmas tree with lights that had been charmed to flash occasionally. “It’s festive.”

“Right. What are you guys doing here?”

Scott sat at one of the stools on the island. “We wanted to celebrate Christmas with you guys.”

“Christmas is in five days.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “We can count Cora. We just knew that we would have to spend Christmas with our families and we wanted to spend some time with the pack.”

Cora didn’t have an answer to this as they heard a scream from upstairs.

“ _Do I smell Stiles?_ ”

A few seconds later, Erica was bursting through the kitchen and launching at the Slytherin.

“I’ll go get the others,” Cora announced as she left.

Erica sat on the counter, her legs swinging back and forth. “The others are here, we’re watching a Christmas movie in Derek’s room.”

Scott chuckled. “Derek watches Christmas movies?”

“Not really. He tried to kick us out of his room. Laura glared. Isaac whined. Boyd and I took out claws so he was forced to have us. He fell asleep five minutes in though.”

Right on cue the others appeared. Isaac came in and gave Scott a hug with much thumping on backs and Boyd acknowledged them. Laura pulled the others into a hug, leaving Derek to blearily look at them.

“You look like hell,” Stiles said.

“You try waking up with Cora treating your chest like a trampoline.”

Cora didn’t look the slightest bit guilty. “What? You wouldn’t wake up.”

“What are you doing here?” Derek grumbled, his voice still hoarse from sleep.

Stiles shook the large paper bag he was still holding. “Christmas! We bring gifts.”

The three Beta Hufflepuffs rushed forward to look into the bag.

“And!” Scott opened the box with all the pans. “Food!”

Laura drooled at the sweet potato casserole. “We can always have an early Christmas celebration.” She swiped her finger in the dish to taste the offering. “What do you say Derek?”

Derek sighed but when Stiles and Scott shoved the pot roast under his nose, Derek really couldn’t say no.

Everyone cheered and helped carry the pans of food into the dining room.

While everyone helped set up the trays and plates at the table, Stiles arranged the presents under the Christmas tree in the living room. The tree was large and lopsided and if Stiles’ eyesight proved right he could see a dent at the back of the tree. But overall, everything was really festive inside the living room. The scent of candycane and cinnamon permeated the air. Stockings with Derek, Cora, Laura, and Isaac’s names rested by the fireplace. It was nice. He rushed out when he heard his name.

The pack ate straight from the pans disregarding plates. Everyone just got a big spoon and dug into what they wanted to eat. Cora complained how disgusting it was but even she couldn’t resist the delectable food.

As they finished eating and causing a mess in the Hale dining room they went into the living room to open presents. Gift wrapping paper and sheets had been thrown all over the living room. It crunched as people stepped on the paper.

Erica giggled when nearly all her presents had been comic related. She gave Boyd a kiss on the cheek when he had given her catwoman ears made of faux diamond.

Isaac was thrilled receiving a Monster book of Monsters from Erica and a scarf from Stiles that changed color based on mood. Isaac immediately put it on and the scarf became a blue-violet. From Derek and Boyd, Isaac had gotten a new dumbo rat to replace the one who had passed away. Isaac took the rat with care as Derek said he was still a few days old. Isaac tucked the rat into a small area of his scarf.

Boyd as the nerdy person he was received history books from everyone much to his pleasure. The titles ranged from Famous Wizards who pretended to be Muggles to an empty book where he could place all his chocolate frog cards.

Cora had received Quidditch gear from Erica and Isaac, a book on Harpies from Stiles (with a note attached reading: _I guess they’re a good team_ ) to strawberry chocolate frogs and other quidditch memorabilia from the others.

Scott had gotten much the same treatment as Cora with an overabundance of Quidditch stuff along with several books on dueling techniques where the books held moving pictures of the perfect tactics.

Stiles had received licorice wands from everyone and several Zonko products from Boyd and Isaac. Erica decided it was her duty to educate Stiles on the muggle world and brought him pop culture books in which Cora evened out with actual useful information on Muggle world books. Stiles had received gifts from everyone including Laura, except Derek. He tried not to be disappointed but he was sure Derek caught his gaze a few times throughout the night.  

“Ok Derek!” Erica announced more loudly than necessary. She scrambled under the lopsided Christmas tree to pull out a gift. “This is from me, Isaac, and Boyd. We all pitched in.”

Derek opened the gift and scowled when he saw it was a mug with the words: World’s #1 Grumpy Alpha. “Really?”

The three Hufflepuffs laughed. “Look inside the mug,” Boyd instructed.

Derek took out the tissue paper stuffed in the mug. He paused when he saw the ring. The thick band was a rustic silver with intricate details making the ring look regal. An oval amber gemstone rested at the top of the ring and what Derek found particular was that inside the gemstone a single tiny plant had grown.

“The ring maker said the amber had fused with a valerian plant. He says it's rare for that to happen but when it does the wearer of the ring can ward off all nightmares.” Erica informed.

“Yup,” Isaac continued. “Its basically a safer version of a Dreamless Sleep Potion and one that actually works on werewolves.”

Stiles smiled softly as he took in Derek’s honest and open expression. He had a look of disbelief across his face mixed with appreciation.

“Thank you.” Derek finally said.

“And now for my gift!” Laura cried out and placed a muggle blowtorch on the table.

Everyone but the Hales eyed the gift strangely.

“Seriously.” Derek nearly shouted.

Laura nodded. “You’re old enough and think of this as your Christmas and Birthday present.”

“How is this a present?” Scott asked picking up the blowtorch. “And why does it smell like wolfsbane.”

Cora groaned. “Derek’s getting a tattoo.”

“Really? Now?”

Scott’s questioned was answered as Derek removed his long sleeved shirt.

Laura hummed. “Where do you want it?”

“Upper back.” Derek said, sitting in front of her.

“Wait I’m confused; what’s going on,” Stiles spoke.

“Well,” Laura began as she got the materials ready. “You know how wizards can get tattoos by simply transfiguring ink into the skin? The ink its painless but what it does it burns part of your skin to meld into it and then as it cools down a wizard casts charms on it to make the tattoo move or change color. Well it doesn’t work that way for werewolves. Our skin heals causing the ink to just fall off. Instead we get the ink and mix it with wolfsbane and fire.” She placed on dragonhide gloves. “It’s painful though.”

“Then why get it?” Isaac asked, shuffling close so he can watch.

Derek let Laura disinfect his back with a moist cloth. “For the same reason anyone else decides to get a tattoo.”

Cora crossed her legs underneath her. “Derek’s been wanting one since he was thirteen.”

“And I told Derek,” Laura said. “When he turns seventeen he can get one, but I wasn’t around to give it to him, so now...” She turned on the blowtorch with a malicious grin. “Scott, Boyd, I’m gonna need you to hold him down.” Both boys stood up and placed their weight on Derek’s shoulders. “Still want the same one?”

Derek nodded, breathing deeply. The flame made contact with his skin. He roared. His eyes became red and his fangs emerged from his gums. He felt Boyd and Scott push him down further.

He tried to focus to regain his breath. And then that’s when it clicked. He looked up and saw Stiles intently staring at him. His look radiated concern and awe, but it was enough for Derek to know he was safe amongst friends. Derek sagged, his face shifting back to human.

It took Laura about fifteen minutes to finish the tattoo on his back and then another five minutes for her to charm the triskelion to the proper motions. When she finished, she handed Derek two mirrors. Derek was more than pleased. The tattoo shifted back and forth from black into a dark midnight blue making it look as if the triskelion was moving. He reached back pressing his fingertips into the permanent mark. It still ached but it was perfect.

“Wow,” Scott breathed behind him. “That’s really cool.” He touched it gently.

“You want one too, Scott?” Laura asked, igniting the blow torch.

“I think I’ll wait when I turn seventeen. My mom would kill me showing up with one.”

Laura giggled. She removed the mask and began to pick everything up as Derek placed his shirt back on.

“Midnight everyone!” Isaac shouted. He gently placed his new rat in a small bed that he had made from gift wrapping paper and raced outside.

Derek didn’t understand the rush to go outside since it really wasn’t anything special, but Isaac was happy so he wasn’t going to take his happiness away.

Everybody went outside to their small backyard. The entire lawn was covered in snow except for the small table and chairs at the far end of the backyard that Laura had charmed to repel all weather damage.

Derek merely wanted to go sit at the small patio table, but as he walked to the quaint metal table, he was bombarded by several snowballs. He turned around releasing a ferocious glare. But all the werewolves and Stiles were pointing to different people making it difficult to tell who threw it. He continued his trek to the table, grinning. He subtly pulled out his wand and cast several snowballs to redirect themselves at everyone behind him.

The pack shrieked in delight.

A small snowball fight commenced. Nobody knew what the rules were or what the objective of the game was but it was fun. Although Derek could hear Stiles grumbling about playing with werewolves was like getting a dart to the face. His comments only made people attack him more. Isaac was the only one who took pity on him and tried to protect him as they banded together to attack everyone else. It wasn’t very efficient as everybody focused their attacks on them.

The two surrendered, gasping for air on the ground. The rest of the pack decided to take a break. But even though Stiles was tired he managed to find a bit of hyperactivity stored in him. Without prompting, he began to make a snowman. Scott and Cora saw the motion and proceeded to cackle but then joined in.

“I don’t get it?” Laura asked as she watched her sister laugh while making the snowman. “Why are they laughing?”

The Hufflepuffs groaned. “Frosty the Snowman.” Boyd grunted.

Laura was still curious.

Stiles began to recount Operation Snowman to her. Everybody listened to him and the occasional interjections from Cora and Scott. Laura was cackling as Stiles got to the part of how they made the snowman’s touch make everyone sing. After a while, the three Betas couldn’t hold in the laughter in anymore and began to reminisce about Stiles’ pranks over the years.

The others began to chat amongst themselves until Cora announced she wanted some cocoa. Nearly everyone reveled in her great idea and followed her back inside to get cocoa and the leftover food Scott had brought, leaving Stiles and Derek alone in the backyard.

Stiles was about to follow the others but Derek gripped his forearm.

“What’s up?”

Derek didn’t answer. He led Stiles to the small patio table at the corner of the backyard. Stiles panicked. “Oh Merlin, are you going to murder me because I was the one who charmed the snowball earlier to go into your pants?!”

Derek glared. “That was you?”

“No.” Stiles said much too quickly.

Derek sighed exasperatedly, pulling the chair so he could sit. “It’s not that. Just sit down.”

“Is there going to be maiming?”

Derek growled.

“Sitting.”

“Um.” Derek began. He wasn’t sure why he was feeling so nervous.

“Oh Salazar this is about that thing back in September involving a muffin and the floating homicidal fork isn’t?”

_“What?”_

“Oh you weren’t even aware of that. Ok,” Stiles arms flapped in front of his face. “Just. Forget everything I said. I’m going to stop talking now because the facial tic in your lower jaw is starting to bulge more than usual.”

Derek sighed and finally from inside his jean pocket, pulled out a small red jacket that fit in his palm. “I didn’t have time to wrap it since I barely finished it when the others came barging into my room to watch Christmas movies.” He enlarged the gift until it was the normal size. “I didn’t want Laura yelling at me for not wrapping so...” He handed the jacket awkwardly.

Stiles guffawed, feeling the soft material. “It’s a muggle jacket.”

“Yeah,” Derek muttered awkwardly, holding back the _you look better in muggle clothes_. “You always forget your coat, so I charmed it to recognize weather temperatures and follow you around until you put it on and it’s charmed to always give off the perfect temperature. And since you're always hanging out with Gryffindors...”

“You bought me a red one.” Stiles chuckled, slipping the sweater on over his coat.

“Yeah.”

Stiles laughed loudly. Derek recognized it as Stiles’ ‘I am being an asshole and I don’t care because this too funny’ laugh. He didn’t know how to take it at the moment. “This is freaking ridiculous, like a troll doing the Veela waltz ridiculous.” Stiles snorted. Derek didn’t appreciate being laughed at.

His nostrils flared out and his mouth pinched. “You’ve been carrying my present in your coat.” Derek hissed.

That shut Stiles up very quickly. Stiles turned the same shade as his sweater. “I just—I didn’t want to give it to you in front of the others.” He stuttered as he reached inside his pockets and pulled out the gift.

Stiles threw the wrapped gift at him without any care. His blush faded with a grin. “C’mon almighty Alpha. I know you’re super eager to open my awesome gift. You were probably eyeing it all night.”

Derek glared again and was torn between throwing the gift back at him or punching him over the table. Stupid Stiles always trying to get the last word in. But still, Derek unwrapped it. He ignored Stiles’ comment to smile as he unwrapped it less than gently. His breath hitched and his grip on the gift loosened when he saw it was an original copy of The Tales of Beedle and Bard with scholarly commentary. His hand stroked the cover.

“I always noticed you read fairy tale books in secret. I figured you didn’t want the others to know.” Stiles muttered softly.

Derek opened the cover where he saw in Stiles’ writing a note that said, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY AND MERRY CHRISTMAS YOU GRUMPY OLD SOURWOLF!”

Derek suddenly felt very cheap. The jacket had cost him only ten pounds. He had hoped his thoughtfulness would make up for his frugality  “Stiles, this—”

Stiles smirked. “—Dude don’t worry about it—”

Derek looked up with panic. “—This costs a fortune—”

“—I didn’t buy it—”

“—There’s only a few copies out in the—”

“—It was in the Stilinski library. And before you start again, no one will miss it. Take it.”

Derek looked to Stiles sincerely. He grasped the book gently in his hand afraid he would rip it.  He looked back to Stiles the lighting from back inside the house reached the edges of the yard in a muted hue lighting Stiles’ face. The crisp air made Stiles upturned nose a bright red and his skin paler, highlighting his moles more than usual.

The two remained silent enjoying the midnight chill.

The plants around the outer edges of the yard were stiff and frozen. The sky was a dark blue hue, not a star in sight from the heavy dark clouds promising a snow storm later in the night. The current snow littered around the backyard was shifted and covered in mud from their earlier snowball fight.

It looked nothing like a picture perfect scenery but perhaps thats what made the moment special because it reminded Derek of them. Neither was anything close to being perfect. One was a complete apathetic dick while the other was a grumpy repressed asshole. But yet, their dynamic synced well together.

Derek began to feel a strange fluttering in his stomach. He had felt the strange nerves passing through more and more. He wasn’t sure why he had them.

“Stiles!” Erica screamed, crashing into Stiles.

Stiles fumbled and the two fell back into the snow. “Fucking hell Erica, seriously?”

The girl laughed. “Let’s go watch more Christmas movies.”

Derek stood up, looking at the red amongst the white.

“Do I have to?”

Erica lifted him to his feet. ‘No duh.”

Derek followed the pair back inside, still thinking about the fluttering.

 

|~~***~~|

 

It had become habit really. The entire Deucalion situation was over and done with and there was not going to be another dire situation in sight, but Stiles still found himself in the sitting room on the second floor of his home, translating the Moonwalker book.

He munched on the licorice wands he had received from the pack as he wrote. He had gotten pretty far in the translation now with Lydia’s help, which he was immensely grateful.

He learned that Rhea had killed Lycaon, she wasn’t very specific on how though, except that she mentioned she used the rest of his power and transferred it into seven different werewolves. It made sense; even with Goddess powers, her magic still abided by the magic principle: Magic power could not be created or destroyed.

Stiles new it set the lines of lycanthropy today. He was most fascinated in the choice of one of the werewolves, Deucalion. Stiles knew without a doubt that this Deucalion came from the same lineage as the Deucalion they had killed a few weeks ago. Stiles also remembered Deaton informing him that Deucalion carried one of the oldest werewolf strains in history, dating back to Ancient Greece and Roman times. Stiles felt guilt for destroying such a rich history but his sense of duty to the world knew it had been for a good cause.

After Rhea had broken the power into seven different werewolves, she used her magic to appoint emissaries. She chose the priest and priestesses of the most revered temples to control werewolves from wreaking havoc. The spell she used, Stiles realized seemed like an earlier version of the Imperius curse so it was no surprise that the werewolves broke it and learned how to create their own spell to make the emissary listen to them. Stiles wondered how Rhea would feel about that.

In his translation, he had reached the point where Rhea had left her home and journeyed to a new village.

He checked one last rune before reading over his most recent translation.

  _Mars, I had realized was just as vain as Narcissus after he was one of the seven I gave Lycaon’s power to. Mars had taken one of the names of the Roman Gods and bestowed himself with it. Taking the God’s name in vain had become a pattern I noticed within the werewolf community. They are foolish. No God would want to be associated with these abominations._

_To prove how beastly they are, I was walking along the river to head to my home and saw two small babies barely a year old, crying inside a large woven basket._

_I tended to the children quickly, taking them to my home. I fed them and took care of them. They were unnaturally small. I wanted to take the children as my own. I did. I thought of them as my own blood but the thought perished when they turned three. I was washing clothes in the river, Remus and Romulus, both helping, when I noticed both their eyes turn yellow. My heart stopped. The two things were werewolves._

_My instinct with the power my Goddess Pandia bestowed upon me was to kill them there in the river. Drown them; hold them under until they could not heal their own lungs. But the things already called me mother._

_So instead I changed our dynamic. I kept them like pets. I used my magic to control their every whim. They became accustomed to our servant-master relationship._

_As they grew older, I let them hunt game in the forest to release their violent and grossly animalistic instinct. And in exchange, the game would be used to prepare for dinner._

_However, when the werewolves imitated the age of humans, about twelve, a werewolf came to my village._

_He called himself Faustulus. He was another of the seven I split the power of Lycaon to. Faustulus told me that the children belonged to Mars. I was peeved to learn that Mars would abandon things he birthed. But I was even more angry at the thought that these abominations could reproduce._

_I wanted to hurt Faustulus to get rid of my anger but he did his best to quell it. He told me that he was one of the first that Lycaon had bitten. As Lycaon ordered him around, Faustulus did not agree with him under any circumstance and that’s why he took his new Alpha power that I had given him very seriously. He was building a pack of werewolves who had suffered because of Lycaon’s bite and was teaching them to control themselves to not let the wolf consume them._

_His missions was childish. I knew the truth; werewolves could not be tamed._

_But even so Faustulus asked me to give Remus and Romulus to him, that he would raise them into men._

_I laughed in his face and told him no. That he would not take werewolves and raise them to be killers. I kept the twins in line._

_So Faustulus left._

_And returned a week later with a human woman in tow named Acca Larentia._

_I found it unnatural that a human would willingly want to be in the presence of such a creature that was deceiving by nature, but when I asked her why, she said she was in love. Love? Love to a creature than not even Hades would welcome. I didn’t want to believe it._

_I asked Faustulus if he would turn the woman into a monster like him. But he replied that he would only give her the bite if she so desired. Again, I found this hard to believe._

_Acca Larentia assured me all was well in their relationship and she felt perfectly safe as she was the designated emissary. She had a very soothing voice and a wondrous way with words. She convinced me to give Remus and Romulus to their pack. That the things would be better off with creatures of their own kind and people like her. She would help them find a balance between the two._

_So I gave the twins up._

_However, I warned them that I would not hesitate to kill them if they waged war on humans. They understood and left without another word. That was the last I saw of them but I did here later in my life that Romulus had founded his own city._

_Werewolves came and went into the village after Remus and Romulus. I began to see less of them in my region and I heard fewer stories about them even amongst the people who did not possess any magic, it had become a tale to them. I took it as a good sign. It meant that werewolves were not killing anyone._

_Years passed from that day when I had killed Lycaon. I felt a strange emptiness that I could not describe in words. I thought the emptiness would depart when I married Tiberinus—a man who claimed to be a fallen God. And still the emptiness would not leave._

_Together we had eleven children._

_When my eldest turned fourteen, I noticed something very strange. He told me he had made a friend in the forest that I at first took to be in his mind, but he proved it to me by bringing the friend home._

_Upon seeing the forest boy, I knew. I could sense what he was. It was a werewolf and it had dared to share the same space as my son. I wanted to kill it. I want to cut his head clean off—_

 “Stiles, what are you doing?”

Stiles eeped, nearly swallowing the licorice wand. He coughed several times while trying to shift papers around to hide the book and his notes.

“Uh, studying for OWLs.” Stiles easily lied. He thumped his fist into his sternum to regain his breath.

“Really?” John placed a tray of Polish desserts on the coffee table. “Your grandma sent these over.”

Stiles groaned in delight. “Faworki and Kròwki! Hell yeah!” Stiles immediately reached for a handful, but then John took the platter and held it out arms reach.

Stiles’ eyes narrowed. “Are you bribing me with sweets so you can have meat?”

John sniggered, taking a seat while he munched on some Kròwki. “You know me too well. Is it working?”

“Mmm...did grandma send us Mazurek too?”

“Yeah, it’s in the breakfast room.”

“Do I get to have that too?”

“Depends. Am I allowed to have meat later on?”

Oh, but Grandma Stilinski’s Mazurek was the best. He couldn’t pass such a glorious opportunity. “Ok yeah. You get to have meat.”

John grinned, handing the platter fully to Stiles.

Stiles cheered, crossing his legs under him to place the platter in between. As he stuffed the sweets into his mouth, making it perfectly uncomfortably sticky, Stiles smiled at his father. It had been ages since he could just to sit with him like this. Saying he missed him would be an understatement. He truly needed his father and he was glad the Deucalion situation had been handled resulting in minimal catastrophe from his father. His father still had cases obviously to deal with it but they weren’t catastrophic events that required his attention 24/7. At the moment, everything felt like bliss.

While he was distracted, he hadn’t noticed his father looking over the books scattered across the table.

“This doesn’t look like OWLs course work.”

Stiles eyes opened wide with a mouth full of sugar. “Uh...it’s a bit of light reading.”

“Really?” John peered closer. His voice grew stern. “Stiles is that your mother’s—”

“NO!” Stiles scrambled. “It’s a book I borrowed from a friend.” He took hold of all the papers to arrange them out of sight.

“Scott doesn’t seem like the type to read these types of books.”

“It’s from another friend.”

“Cora Hale?” John paused. “Didn’t you say that from you three, you were the only one taking Ancient Runes?”

Stiles scoffed. “I have other friends, dad!”

“You never talked about them before.”

In which yeah, point one for his dad, because truthfully he hadn’t mentioned the others in any of the letters he would send to his father during the school year or mentioned them during the break. He wasn’t ashamed of them one bit but he didn’t know how to bring up how they all had become friends without bringing up the whole werewolf thing. People like them just didn’t become friends without a major force working in the background.

“Really? I could have sworn I did.” He lied anyway.

John didn’t look convinced.

So Stiles tried again. “Yeah, where did you think all my Christmas presents came from?” Which was a point for Stiles, because he knew his father had become aware of the red sweater, the obscene collection of licorice wands littered around their home, and all the other random shenanigans.

“All right. I’m not judging.” Stiles was glad he had steered the conversation enough for his dad to ask, “Did you and Scott want to go watch the fireworks by The Eye again?”

Stiles shrugged. “Scott said he’s busy. He was being all secretive about it so I’m assuming he’s hanging out with his girlfriend, Allison.”

“Oh right, you mentioned her to me. Which brings up how are you and that Martin girl you keep fussing about?”

Stiles shrugged. “Oh we’re just friends now.”

John looked concerned. “Is this part of your infamous seven year plan, you told me so much about?”

“Nope. I think I’m pretty much over her. _What?_ I am! Plus, she’s with Jackson.”

“Is that good thing?”

“I think so. Lydia’s really happy and Jackson is now marginally less of a douche, something has to be going right in that relationship for that miracle to happen.”

“Your dislike for Jackson never fails to amaze me.”

“We don’t dislike each other anymore. We have come to a truce of mild annoyance and toleration each other.”

“How did that happen?”

 _Jackson became a werewolf and we were forced to work together._ “We finally put our differences aside and I decided to act like a mature adult and speak with him.”

John was a second too late to hide the snort that erupted from his throat. “Sorry. Just. Wow. Yes, Stiles I completely believe you in your trek to adulthood.”

“You’re terrible.”

John smiled and returned to the previous conversation. “Well since Scott isn’t going, do you want it to be just us going to London?”

Stiles beamed. “Yeah that’s—”

A loud knocking reverberated across the Stilinski Manor. Their knocker had been charmed years ago to be heard anywhere in the house, but it took the two a while to realize what the noise even was. They hadn’t received visitors in years.

Regardless, the two descended the stairs to open the door.

“Uhh.”

Stiles struggled to find the right words at the large mob outside the door.

“You show up uninvited, so do we.” Cora announced with a grin and then pushed her way inside.

Stiles tripped over his feet in his haste to move out of the way. After her, everyone trailed inside. Stiles met his father’s gaze over the passing heads, giving him the universal ‘I had nothing to do with this’ look every child had mastered when they thought they would get into serious trouble.

Everyone was here. The Hale siblings, Scott, Allison, the three Hufflepuff Betas, Jackson, Lydia, Chris Argent, Melissa McCall, and two sets of parents that Stiles could guess from looks alone were Erica and Boyd’s parents, along with three of Boyd’s older sisters.

Lydia was the last to enter. She was struggling to carry one of those charmed boxes that one could place several pots and pans.

Even though the others barged into his house rudely, he still couldn’t help the urge to help Lydia. “Do you want help getting all of that to the kitchen?”

Lydia looked down to the box in her hands. “Yes, please, thank you Stiles who is not my boyfriend... _Jackson!_ ”

“What?” Jackson called out, leaning against one of the walls as if the home belonged to him. “I asked if you wanted me to get my house elves to deliver them and you threw a fit.”

Lydia rolled her eyes as she handed the things to Stiles.

Stiles walked through the long hallway, noticing that his father had taken the adults into the living room.

Great.

He headed to the kitchen where the others followed him. He dropped the box on the counter without care, it made Scott and Lydia cringe and whimper at their hard work.

“What the hell is going on?” Stiles demanded.

Cora leaned against the counter. “I told you already. You need to learn to listen, Stiles.”

“Is this what you were planning when you said you were busy!” Stiles cried to Scott.

Scott looked sheepish. “Yeah. I don’t see the problem though.”

“It’s just,” Stiles arms flapped. “You can’t do that here. My dad doesn’t know about werewolves.”

“Taken care of. Laura is being used as a distraction.” Isaac called out from somewhere inside the large kitchen pantry with Erica.

Erica came out chewing an apple. “And our family have been informed to not mention werewolves in the presence of your dad. We’re not stupid, Stiles. We gave them the whole run down how werewolves are second-class citizens and all that shazam. You’re good.”

Derek leaned against the counter beside Cora. “If it will stop you from throwing a fit, your dad sounds ok with all this.”

Stiles’ voice cracked. “He what?”

Isaac finally came out of the pantry with a jar of peanut butter. He roamed around the kitchen looking for a spoon. Stiles wanted to scream, this is not your home guys! But really, he had done the same at Scott’s house. “We can hear him from the other room. He just laughed at what Laura said.”

The werewolves took the time to listen. It got quiet for a few seconds in which Stiles huffed loudly. “I hate you all.”

“No you don’t.” Lydia opened the box and was handing huge pans of food to Allison and Scott. “Now where’s the dining room? We brought a feast.”

Stiles’ eye twitched. He took a deep breath in which his mind switched over to, ‘what the hell.’ He led the pack to the dining room.

Lydia scanned the room from the chandeliers to the endless mahogany table. “Hmm...How quaint.”

“Quaint? This house is huge.” Boyd stated, placing the huge turkey at the center of the table.

Lydia pointed to Allison and Erica where to place the mashed potatoes. “Not really. It’s like the size of a cottage. It’s cute.”

Stiles had taken the gravy. He placed the several bowls on the table. “It is a cottage. My parents didn’t want the elaborate Stilinski Manor.”

Scott nearly dropped the ham. Allison caught it in time. “Wait, are you telling me your family owns a bigger house than this? I thought this was the Stilinski Manor!”

“My dad and I are the only ones who call it that. But my dad since he’s pureblood has other manors. The main manor is in Poland but we have another one in Wales. This is one of the cottage houses if you can believe that.”

“So going by size, Jackson and Lydia’s are way bigger than this?” Isaac asked, lounging on one of the chairs. Lydia flicked his ear to get up and help.

“Naturally.” Jackson said tongue in cheek, lounging as well. Isaac glared that he wasn’t getting the same treatment.

Derek who had been ordered by Lydia to place all the floating decorations, paused his lighting of candles to turn to Stiles. “And you still managed to flood an entire floor in Jackson’s manor?”

Jackson snorted. “It was kind of impressive. Probably would have gotten another floor in if my uncle hadn’t caught us.”

“Didn’t you break a ceiling?” Cora asked.

Stiles laughed, rearranging his poor display of gravy placing skills, according to one Lydia Martin. “Yup. Jackson’s house elves are awesome at throwing children.”

Everyone but Jackson and Stiles froze. It took them a while to picture a small house elf flinging an eight year old into the sky.

Cora came back from the kitchen with more food. “So you two were friends before Hogwarts?”

“Oh Merlin NO!” Jackson and Stiles cried in tandem.

Stiles began to set all the dishware. “Our parents forced us to hang out all the time when we were kids, I swear it was some form of punishment. Worse than any timeout. It was terrible.”

“Terrible doesn’t even describe it. Stiles tried to suffocate me with his floating blanket when we were three. I think that’s when we first met actually.”

“Only cause you made fun of my dragon and mermaid bracelets.”

“I didn’t make fun of your girly bracelets.”

“Yes you did. I recall you making fun of me for wearing my mom’s jewelry.”

“No I didn’t. I was really making fun of that hideous pink pygmy puff sweater.”

Stiles gasped; he was ready to defend his favorite sweater from when he was three.

“Boys!” Lydia shouted. “Can we save this for some other time? Plus, as much as I adore you Jackson being the perfect decoration, you need to get your ass up and moving before I decide to add more hours to your service. You still have fifty more to go.”

Jackson groaned, finally helping the pack set up the table.

After Lydia, finally felt satisfied with the preparation, well not really, Allison had to tell her this was as nice as it was going to get, everybody in the manor settled in the dining room.

The boys leaned forward trying to get all the delectable smells in their nose.

“Wow…” Isaac let out a whoosh of air. “It all looks so good. I don’t know where to start!”

Jackson sneered who was sitting across from the curly haired teen. “You start at one end of the line and move to the front, somewhere far behind me.” Lydia sitting beside him, smacked his arm.

Laura sandwiched between Lydia and Derek, smacked wandering hands to the food, before speaking. “No one’s doing anything until someone says the blessing.”

Derek and Cora groaned. “Laura we don’t have to…” Cora said.

“Have to what?” John spoke from the head of the table.

Laura smiled at John. “Our family used to do them all the time before the…” She trailed awkwardly.

Erica’s mother intervened. “That’s a great idea. Our family does them too. Erica usually is the one giving the speech. She does them so wonderfully.”

Stiles sitting at the other head of the table watched with amusement as he saw Erica flush with embarrassment.

Melissa sitting on John’s left, smiled to the Hales. “Who usually gave the speeches?” Oh bless, Melissa’s heart, she was trying to follow tradition for the Hales.

The pack saw Laura’s gears turning. They all knew the answer. It was supposed to be the Alpha, but she didn’t know how to explain that to John who was the only one at the table unaware of werewolves.

Cora jumped in. “It was always the eldest Hale male member. So technically it’s supposed to be Derek at the moment but I think we can all agree that Derek’s sourness won’t be the best to welcome a New Year’s Eve feast.”

Derek on Stiles’ right glared at his sister.

Scott on Stiles’ left jumped in. “What about you Mr. Stilinski? It’s your house.”

“Oh no, I really couldn’t.” John blushed slightly.

“How bout you Mr. Argent?” Erica asked, Chris sitting on John’s right, beside Boyd’s parents and Boyd’s sisters.

Allison was quick to nix that idea before it could take root. “Not unless you want us to be here all day.”

“Make Jackson do it.” Stiles bit. “He loves listening to himself talk after all.”

Lydia held down her boyfriend.

“For the love,” Boyd stood up. He had purposefully skipped breakfast in preparation for this meal and these asshole’s kept postponing it. “I’ll do it.” He took a deep breath, pushing away his introverted nature, and plowed on ahead before the whole affair was dragged on much longer than it needed to be.

“So I’m going to bypass all the corny dramatics since I know all of us would rather stuff our faces...but I just want to say I’m so grateful to have friends like you. I didn’t think in such a short year all of us would come together and do the impossible. We’ve been through so much in just a few months but it’s been amazing. You guys are like a second family to me and I hope that the new year brings us even closer together and we stay together till the end. And because this is New Year’s Eve, it wouldn’t be a speech without me mentioning some resolution so mine is simply to tolerate fools more gladly, provided this does not encourage them to take up more of my time. So toast.”

The pack laughed at Boyd’s such short speech but it got quick to the point without giving too much away on what they had been up to fifth year.

Everyone got along, well as good as they could in a room full of people who got together could be. The food was good that it deserved a new word other than amazing. The desserts were lined out ready and waiting for them to finish stuffing that last little bit of turkey or mashed potato. In a group that had seen its fair share of heartache and despair, it was as perfect a day as it could get it.

The feast was over and the rest of the guests retreated to the spacious backyard to chat.

It was Scott, Cora, and Stiles who were filled with too much energy after the feast and demanded everyone be filled with the same energy as them.

“We should play Quidditch.” Cora stood over the others who had taken to sitting in the random littered chairs around the backyard, sipping some hot cocoa.

The yard was covered in a fine layer of snow but the charms set around the manor had the place feeling toasty, which had all of them removing their coats throwing them back inside the house.

“Yes!” Stiles shouted, feeling antsy with the impossible amount of desserts he had.

“No.” Boyd and Derek said in tandem.

Cora stood over her brother. “You’re no fun.”

Erica stood to her feet. “We can split into teams!”

Stiles placed his weight on Scott. “I have Quidditch equipment for all of us.”

“Competition? All right I’m in.” Jackson wiped snow from his slacks. “I’ll be team captain.”

“No way. My House, My Rules. I’m team captain.”

“What if I want to be team captain?” Scott nudged his best friend.

“We can both be.”

Isaac groaned from where he was resting his head in Boyd’s lap. “That’s not fair. Best friend gets priority. What if I want to be?”

“Same.” Erica cocked her hip.

“I wouldn’t mind being captain either,” Lydia called from where she was caressing Allison’s head.

Jackson’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t even play Quidditch.”

“Can’t be that hard if you do it, right?”

Everyone sent an amused glance at the strawberry blonde.

Boyd sighed. “Just draw sticks. What is with you lot complicating things?”

Allison sat up. “Great idea.” She pulled off her bracelets from her wrist. They were all gold except for two green ones. She placed them inside her beanie. “Whoever gets the green ones, gets to be captain.”

The others jumped in to try get the green bracelet, Derek reluctantly joined in.

“Yes!” Cora and Stiles cried in tandem.

“Cora you can go first, you’ll need it.” Stiles cheekily grinned.

Cora shoved him, but choose anyway. “Erica.”

The blonde sashayed her way to her friend.

Stiles went next, not even giving it a second thought. “Jackson.”

Scott gasped. “What?! How can you choose him over me?”

Jackson’s sashay beat Erica’s to shame as he headed to his fellow Slytherin. “Cause I’m awesome.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Because Jackson and I have perfected our synchronicity believe it or not.”

“I hate you.” Scott whined. Allison patted her boyfriend’s shoulder.  

“Scott.” Cora chose next.

“Thank you best friend.”

Stiles chuckled. “Mmmm…Boyd.”

Boyd got up with a grunt.

“Isaac.”

“Lydia.”

Everybody paused at that. “Really?”

Stiles defended himself. “Yup. We’re gonna be the winning and best looking team.”

Erica scoffed. “Please, we all know who’s the most gorgeous one here.”

“Thanks Erica” Jackson flung an arm over her.

“I think she was talking about me.” Isaac grinned.

Erica shoved at both of them while Cora scanned the remaining two. Allison and Derek. She laughed as she chose Allison.

“Aw man.” Stiles whined as Derek made his way over to Stiles. “Do you even know how to fly?”

Derek glared.

“I’m going to take that as a definite no.”

Cora laughed as they headed to pick up their gear. “Cora! C’mon this isn’t fair.”

“Not my problem.”

Stiles sighed and looked to Derek. “Fine. At least give me half an hour so I can train him.”

Cora shrugged in accordance.

Stiles guided Derek toward the shed they had in the backyard so he could be out of eyesight from the others.

“You don’t have to do this. Laura can always play instead.”

Stiles looked for the training broom he knew he had somewhere in here. He flung several random objects inside, Derek dodged each one of them carefully. “Laura is too busy chatting with Boyd’s sisters. Plus, Hogwarts students only. It can’t be that hard to teach you anyway. I taught Scott. Ha found it!”

Derek’s eye twitched at the baby blue broomstick with a cartoonish drawing of a dragon on the side. “That’s for five year olds.”

“Yeah, but it has safe charms so you don’t go to high or too fast. We don’t want you getting stuck in another chimney do we.”

Derek’s face was emotionless. “Just give me the broom. Stiles.”

“Cool. So just mount it and yeah.”

Stiles stepped closer as Derek tried to find his grip on the broom. Stiles guided Derek’s hand in the proper position. “Dude chill. This isn’t as hard as you’re making it out to be.”

“Shut up.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Make sure to always have your hands here. You can change your center of gravity by placing them closer to your body but Seekers and Chasers are really the only ones who do that. Ok now kick off gently.”

Derek let out a small huff but did as told. He hovered about three feet from the ground. His breath hitched and a tension spread through his body and settled in his jaw. Stiles tried to make him move. He couldn’t. He wanted to cling to nearest object cemented safely in the ground but there was nothing by him but his broom which he was holding too fiercely, any tighter and the broom would break. He felt silly. It was irrational to be afraid since any injury he got would heal.

“Easy.” Stiles calmly said. “Trust me.”

Derek opened his eyes. When had he closed them? The fluttering was back when he caught Stiles’ golden eyes staring back at him. They were filled with mirth and laughter, which made Derek want to punch him and growl, but there was a warmth there, that Derek didn’t even notice Stiles take hold of the broom and pull him forward.

“See not so bad right? Want to try going higher?”

Derek nodded.

Stiles guided the broom. It took a few minutes for Derek to be brave enough to be several feet in the air. Stiles was flying beside him, guiding the broom.

Another few more more minutes and both of them were flying around the backyard, albeit Derek a little shaky but he felt a surge of satisfaction that he could fly. Laura and Cora made remarks but he ignored them all.

“Ok since you’re still learning. You’ll be Keeper. Just float there and look pretty. Jackson and I will keep the Quaffle away from you.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Gee thanks.”

Stiles grinned.

The two returned to their team and both caught Lydia arguing with Boyd strangely enough. Although, Lydia was having difficulty getting a rise out of Boyd since her usual arguments were with bombs ready to blow.

“Great. You’re here.” Lydia turned to Stiles. “Tell him, I’m going to be the Beater.”

“Uh. Boyd has a better build for that.”

Lydia huffed. “He can be Seeker.”

Jackson looked worn as if he was the one arguing with Lydia. “I say just go with it. We have Derek on our team how much worse can we get?”

“Point. Ok. So Lydia you’re Beater. Boyd take Seeker.”

Boyd didn’t budge. Derek glanced making sure Stiles’ father wasn’t paying attention so he could flash his red eyes. Boyd let out an exasperated huff but followed his Alpha anyway.  

The game proceeded.

Despite that Cora was normally a Seeker, she wasn’t that bad of a Chaser as she passed the ball to Scott. Lydia timed the bludger to hit Scott. The poor Gryffindor fell from his broom in shock. Everyone turned indecorously at the strawberry blonde as she twirled the bat in her hand.

“What? It’s just math.”

Stiles confidence built up. He took the Quaffle. Jackson and him were a perfect team. They kept the ball from the two Gryffindors. It took a little more effort to get the ball past Allison, playing Keeper. The girl had amazing reflexes, also by the fact she wasn’t scared to throw her entire body to block the Quaffle.

The adults watched the game with awe, especially Boyd and Erica’s parents. They very rarely got to see magic up close. However, they were a little wary that Bludgers were coming their way as they raced for the snitch. In the end it was Erica to catch the snitch and win the game.

Stiles and Jackson groaned, while the other team gloated.

Before short-tempers could flare, snacks were brought out again and all the high strung teens rushed forward.

Stiles shuffled over to his father, picking up some butterbeer and a handful of sugar cookies. Stiles was too blissed to care that all the blue frosting was all around his lips. His dad was sipping some Ogden’s Old Firewhiskey.

“Feels weird right?” Stiles asked his father with a grin.

“What does?” John raised his cup to his lips.

“Having the house filled with so many people.”

John’s cup slowly came down. “It’s refreshing. Claudia would have enjoyed this.”

Stiles knew it was the alcohol making his father’s tongue loose. He very rarely spoke of her sober. “Found a sick joy out of it and trying to embarrass both of us most likely.”

John snorted. “Yeah, she would have. You should have all of them over during the summer holidays too.”

“I’m sure they would come barging in whether I invited them over or not.”

Their attention fell to Erica and Boyd who were arguing about something. Erica then flipped Boyd over her shoulder with too much ease which prompted Boyd’s older sisters gush and fawn over Erica.

John turned a questioning look at his son.

Stiles stammered. “Uh Erica just eats her wheaties. All of them.”

John just shrugged it off when Melissa and Chris called his father over. He sighed in relief and went to go reprimand Erica...

Derek grabbed a butterbeer, sitting beside Cora on the bench of the fountain.

Cora’s grin pressed against her own bottle as she teased her brother. “Careful, Derek. Smile just a bit more and you just might break your face.”

“You’re hilarious.” He snarled.

Cora shrugged and stole some sweets her brother had brought over.

A comfortable silence settled around them. Both of them just kept staring at the pack and they really couldn’t believe it. “I didn’t think that we would ever have a pack again.” Cora said as she watched floating lights roam around the backyard as nightfall hit.

“Same.”

“I miss our family but this seems nice.” She took a sip. “You tell anyone we are having this conversation—”

Derek grunted. “Please. I don’t want to deal with the emotional onslaught either.”

“Sure you don’t.”

“What’s that mean?”

“I wasn’t kidding when I said about you smiling. You have been all day. It’s nice. I missed it.” She paused. “Do you ever think we’re going to ever return to the the people we were before?”

Derek had thought about that question a lot. Surprisingly, he had an answer “We were kids, Cora. Our personalities would have changed either way growing up. The fire just made them change faster.”

“So we were meant to grow as repressed assholes.”

“Probably. I really meant that the fire had us in this capsule of just angst that people face in increments in their life. We just happened to get it in one blow. I think the pack broke it. Regardless of the fire, I think this is who we were meant to be. I mean, think about it. You’re a competitive, brash prankster who likes to hang out with Argents.”

“I’ve never!”

“I can hear your heartbeat.”

“Ok we hung out once or twice during the break.” She shot Derek. “Whatever Mr. Smiley Pants who likes to hang out with a certain Slytherin.”

Derek didn’t deny it.

“Guys c’mon!” Isaac shouted by the house.

Cora and Derek headed toward the rest of the pack. The only people missing were Lydia and Erica.

“Over there.” Boyd answered, before Derek could ask.

Derek watched Erica and Lydia from across the yard. They were at edge of the wards with several random objects. He could hear both of them laughing. After a moment, Erica grabbed Lydia’s hand and dragged her quickly away.

They got to the pack, panting for air. He didn’t know what was going on, until a large boom resonated.

They all yelped as several fireworks shot into the sky. A dance of colors that generated waves of tremors illuminated brightly all around them.

The pack all laid down enjoying the show. They were in a perfect circle, as the fireworks rippled. The adults came back out and stood by watching the fireworks as well. Derek was sandwiched between Cora and Stiles. “Check that one out!” Stiles said like Derek wasn’t already watching. Derek still decided to humor him. The fireworks were a vibrant orange and pink, purple strands transformed into beautiful butterflies.

“It’s—” Derek turned to look at Stiles, and Stiles shifted his body to look at Derek, putting the light of the fireworks against his face. Stiles was limned in light, his hair looked like in was in flame along the edges and embers in the shadow. The corner of his eye caught a firework shaped like a sun, making his eyes burn gold. He was looking at Derek, smiling, the angles of his face aglow, the soft splatters of moles like constellations on his skin. Derek’s chest was a smoldering coal where the image was searing itself inside him.

Merlin, he looked beautiful. Derek’s mouth parted releasing a breath. Holy freaking shit. Derek finally distinguished the fluttering he had been feeling.

He _liked_ Stiles.

He felt his heart pound when Stiles caught him staring too long. His smile grew larger. Derek’s breath hitched. He could feel himself growing warm and wanting to flee.

“Ok?” Stiles asked.

Derek nodded dumbly, unable to look away. He felt Cora grab his attention. She could probably hear his rapid heartbeat. He smiled, assuring that he was ok.

Derek turned back to the fireworks with an overly aware presence of Stiles sprawled along beside him.

 _Fuck._ He was done for. He sneaked another glance at Stiles and the Slytherin turned to him once more with a bright stupid grin.

He was really done for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this chapter took forever, but I barely finished finals last week and I've been busy preparing for Christmas. But anyway consider this a holiday gift, I made it extra long and sappy for you.
> 
> Tell me what you thought? The sweater? Tattoo? Flying lessons?Derek finally realizing his feelings for Stiles? Or anything for that matter?
> 
> Please read and review. Second arc starts next chapter!
> 
> Also random links that I would throw out there in case you were curious.
> 
> This is [ Mazurek](http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fJrFe_AUb3s/T3941nDix7I/AAAAAAAAADs/PGHc0yklekg/s1600/_MG_7150.jpg)  
> a few of my polish friends say it's for easter but they prepare it for any holiday.
> 
> This is [Faworki](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/c/ca/Faworki_\(plate\).jpg) also known as Angel Wings.
> 
> This is [Krowki](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/8/8a/Krowki002.jpg) Which is really just caramel candy.
> 
> Also this is not important but I really love this sweater on Adelaide Kane so this is what she is wearing [Just the sweater Cora is not ready for skirts](http://coolspotters.com/files/photos/1134931/adelaide-kane-and-zimmermann-honour-pleat-skirt-gallery.jpg?1386778223)


	30. Wolf-Nip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The start of the second semester of 5th year brings unexpected surprises with Stiles' magic and Derek's crush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So let's start off the new year with a new chapter!!  
> Cue Second Arc!

Branches rushed past him in a blur. The cold air collected in Derek’s lungs before he expelled it back out. His body blended into the night time fog as he jumped over a wide stream. Derek barrelled on further until even the fog and mist were left behind him.

He took a pause on top of a hill by a robust oak tree as he searched for his pack.

The pack—minus Allison and Lydia who opted stay in the castle—had wanted to go out for a run during the full moon. The holiday break had left them feeling antsy so when they returned to Hogwarts, they had decided to go to the Forbidden Forest to placate their werewolf sides. They avoided the site of the ritual for several reasons obviously and opted to run within the safety of Hogwarts’ wards.

His fiery red eyes glanced the spanse of the dark forest. He could see Cora and Isaac racing up ahead, although they were starting to turn gradually turn back when they realized Derek wasn’t running anymore. Jackson was in comfortable companionship with Boyd a few hundred feet away while Erica and Scott were running a little bit behind with Stiles, who was flying on his broom.

Derek tried to keep any thoughts away from Stiles. It was difficult. After his revelation during the break that he had (ill-choiced) feelings for the dotted teenager, it had become much more difficult to keep a distance from him. Everything had become hyperaware for him when it involved the Slytherin: the way he spoke, ate, carried himself; Derek found new interesting things to hone on to, but he couldn't. It was just a stupid crush. But Mordred and Morgana! How could he forget about everything when Stiles’ scent had somehow become more irresistible after his discovery?! Luckily, no one had noticed yet. Derek wanted it to stay that way. No one could know. Hopefully, this would fade over time.

However, as the pack gathered around him and he saw Stiles carefree face, he didn’t know how he was going to achieve it.

“What’s up?” Isaac panted, covered in sweat. He used his jogging scarf, Derek pretended not to judge said scarf, to wipe his forehead.

“Full moon is starting to fall. We should be heading back.” Derek answered.

The others nodded as they stretched out their joints. Stiles dismounted his broom as they began walking back to the castle shimmering between the gaps of the thick trees. Derek walked behind him.

“Hey Stiles…” Jackson coughed. “Uh...you have a bug on your back.”

Everyone froze as they noticed said bug.

“Oh really? Can you brush it off?” Stiles asked, none the wiser.

“Um...no.”

“What? Why?” Stiles craned his neck to look. Everybody’s face scrunched as Stiles began to shriek and shout several obscenities that Derek was just impressed by as he tried to take off the spider from his back that was the size of a Quaffle. The spider fell on its back and struggled to right itself. “What the hell is that!” He pulled out his wand and shot a spell.

Isaac ran forward, knocking the direction of the spell in time.“Don’t attack it!” He crouched by the spider to set it on its legs. Isaac smiled and petted it. “It’s a spider.”

“No, it’s a fucking pixie. Of course, it’s a spider! I can fucking see that, Isaac! I mean why is it so big?”

The spider nudged Isaac’s hand. Derek wasn’t usually frightened of insects but the size of the spider sort of unnerved him as it used its front legs to clean its head.

“It’s probably because it belongs to an Acromantula.” Isaac said a little too nonchalantly.

“Why is something like that in the forest!” Scott shrieked.

Isaac shrugged. Erica and Cora kneeled by the spider, enthralled by it. “It’s adorable.” Erica announced with too much fang.

Jackson crossed his arms. “It’s disgusting!”

Erica picked up the spider and wiggled it in Jackson’s direction. “Aww, how can you say that! Look at its adorable pincers.”

The spider’s beady multi eyes stared at Jackson with hunger. “Get it away from me!”

“You’re such a wimp.” Cora stood to her feet. “So are we heading back or what?”

“Hey look.” Boyd spoke up. He pointed to the ground where there was a trail of spiders.

“Holy Helga’s Badgers!” Isaac announced with glee in his voice. “This is amazing.”

Derek knew he was going to regret asking. “What is?”

“It’s a spider trail. If this spider came from an acromantula, this trail probably leads back to the nest. We can see a real live acromantula!”

“And why the hell would we want to do that?!” Jackson placed his hands on his hips with so much pretentious attitude that it made Derek sometimes question why he had bitten the pompous Slytherin.

Scott fumbled. “Is that safe?”

“No.” Derek’s brows narrowed. “Let’s go back to the castle.”

Isaac pouted.

Stiles leaned against the tip of his broom. “Yeah, I’m not in the mood to be partying in the den of blood thirsty eight legged freaks the size of my face.”

Isaac grew desperate and turned to Boyd. “C’mon it could be for academic purposes.”

Boyd didn’t bat an eyelash. “I’m not even taking Care of Magical Creatures. I’m indifferent to this.”

“Aww c’mon Derek,” Erica tried to help Isaac. “Ancient creature? Doesn’t that interest you at all?”

Cora snorted. “Last ancient creature we saw, shot Derek with a wolfsbane arrow.”

“Exactly. Creatures that are territorial don’t get along well. So again, let’s head back.” Derek turned away. Jackson, Boyd, and Stiles followed him without question.

Scott stayed back. “Uhh...Derek?”

Derek held in the growl “What.”

Scott pointed to the others.

Derek mentally groaned when he saw Isaac, Erica, and Cora following the spider trail. Derek huffed deeply through his nose to relax. He just knew it. This pack was going to be the death of him.

“We aren’t actually going to follow them are we? Why do us reasonable ones have to suffer?” Stiles whined.

“I hate agreeing with Stiles but yeah if they want to go have their death party with the spiders, just let them.” Jackson stated.

Derek continued forward, still following the others.

Boyd stuffed his hands in his pocket. “Are you scared of spiders?” He asked Jackson.

“No!”

Stiles laughed. “Oh Salazar’s Dungeon Snake! You totally are! This is a gold mine of information! Thanks Isaac!”

Jackson’s fangs protruded from his gums as he growled.

Derek flashed his red eyes at Jackson to cut it out. He was grateful that Jackson was the only one who seemed to respect his Alpha status, because as soon as Boyd saw the red eyes he snorted. Stiles and Scott had the same reaction.

“Isaac!” Scott tried to reason. “C’mon let’s head back. We can do this some other time.”

“No way!” Isaac shouted continuing to follow the trail. “What if we can’t find the trail again?”

Those reluctant didn’t bother arguing any longer because any time they opened their mouth, Erica and Cora defended Isaac. Also, Derek was getting into a habit of letting Isaac do his own thing. Over the holiday break, Derek had noticed Isaac always followed commands without question. He never defied an order and Derek knew it had to do with his upbringing. So now that Isaac was taking initiative to deviate from Derek’s orders, well, Derek was going to let him do his own thing...even though Derek knew he might regret it.

So they walked behind them for about twenty minutes, not speaking. The trees became thicker than ever, and the full moon overhead was no longer visible. The werewolves could normally see in the dark, but the sea of it began to make them restless. It was Stiles who lighted his wand. Derek kept glancing back at him to make sure he was ok.

In the quiet stillness of the forest, Jackson shrieked. Everyone sent a glare at him. He showed his distress when his hand caught on a giant cobweb. Boyd sighed, helping Jackson loose.

Jackson continued to grumble his displeasure loudly. Derek silenced him.

“What?” Scott asked, as the pack noticed Derek trying to listen.

“There’s something moving over there.” Derek breathed. “Something big, listen.”

Stiles rolled his eyes as he was the only one unable to hear. Some distance to their right, the something big was snapping branches as it carved a path through the trees. No one had time to turn around. A loud clicking noise rang above and suddenly Derek felt something long and hairy seize him around the middle and lift him off the ground, so that he was hanging facedown. He craned his neck. The entire pack was in the same situation. Stiles and Jackson were struggling, trying to get loose. Jackson elongated his claws.

“No!” Isaac called, looking relatively calm. “Spiders are non-violent. I think they are just helping us find the nest.”

“Cool!” Erica’s grin looked more malicious upside down.

“You are way too happy about this.” Boyd told her.

Erica cackled. “Course not every day you get to meet an acromantula. You think it can give me some of its venom for a potion!”  

“Oh Merlin,” Cora whined. “We’re going to die, aren’t we?”

“Probably.” Boyd said.

Derek sighed and looked at his captor. The spiders were the size of carthorses, black, hairy and gigantic. If Derek didn’t have a fear of spiders before, he was sure he was going to later. They made it down a steep slope, where several spiders in varying sizes snapped their pincers around them.

They all fell to the ground. The werewolves managed to flip and land on their feet while Stiles fell face first, broom still in hand. Derek made sure that Scott and Cora lifted him up before turning his attention to the enemy. Stiles’ best friends guarded him as they took in their surroundings.

The spiders all around them began to click their pincers rapidly. And from the middle of the giant web, a spider the size of a small elephant rose slowly. There was gray in the black of his body and legs, and each of the eyes on his ugly, pincered head was a milky white.

“Who comes here?” The acromantula spoke in a deep haunting voice.

Everyone turned to Isaac, unanimously making him the spokesperson since he got them in this mess.

“Friends.” He stepped forward.

“Friends? What are friends?”

“People who mean you no harm.”

“People?” The acromantula clicked its pincers. It echoed in the hollow. “I only smell one human. The others werewolves. What business do werewolves have with me and my children?”

“We just wanted to meet you.” Isaac said, his voice growing meek when several spiders began to surround him.

“Meet for what purpose?”

“Well we’ve never seen acromantulas before and we thought...”

“Thought we would entertain you!”

“No!”

“Isaac…” Scott spoke softly as they noticed more spiders arrive.

“I have no time for you. My children are hungry. Goodbye.”

Derek spun around. A feet away, towering above them was a solid wall of spiders, clicking their pincers. Derek reached for his wand, but Derek knew it was no good, there were too many of them.

“Run!” He ordered.

The werewolves didn’t bother to hesitate. They ran. Stiles mounted his broom with quick practiced ease shooting off into the forest.

They sped out of the slope, out of the hollow, and they were soon crashing through the forest. The spiders followed. Two of them grabbed onto Derek’s legs. He fell. _“Arañia Exumai!”_ He cast. A bright light emitted from his wand, shooting the two spiders back.

His hands curled around moist dirt as he pushed off to continue running. Scott, the only other one familiar with the spell was casting it at the spiders who got near them. Jackson kicked a spider coming his way. “Non-violent my ass!” He spat to Isaac, who swiped at a spider with his claws. Erica went toward them, using the spider-repellent spell. She had never used it before so it was less potent than the boys but it got the job done.

They managed to escape the barricade and noticed the trees began to grow less thick. Derek became aware of Stiles’ absence quickly. He paused by the stream, his shoes and pants getting soaked. He listened. He could hear the whoosh of a broom approaching quickly. A few meters away, Derek finally saw Stiles coming out of the forest.

Derek’s heart stopped.

A spider shot from one of the trees, causing Stiles to scream pathetically as he fell. His broom splintered on a boulder and Stiles was sent falling into the stream. Derek was already running toward him. _“Arañia Exumai!”_ Three spiders got caught in the blast.

Water splashed as Derek got closer. He noticed Stiles’ entire left arm had been scraped. A trickle of blood seeped into the small stream. “Stiles.” Derek breathed over him, overly worried.  

He reached for the teen, but then the Slytherin’s body began to convulse violently. What was going on? He didn’t get a chance to ponder it as more spiders came their way. He lifted Stiles, cradling his body close to his chest. “I got him!” Derek shouted, when he saw Scott had run back toward them. “Go!”

Derek heard Stiles trying to speak but his voice was lodged in his throat. Derek didn’t know what was going on but he knew it wasn’t good.

The pack finally reached the edge of the forest and into Hogwarts Grounds. Scott, Cora, and Erica held out their wands waiting for the spiders to emerge, but the spiders were reluctant to leave the safety of the forest. The spiders after giving them noises of warning finally turned back.

Derek placed Stiles on the ground, to get a look at him. His body was still convulsing and now saliva was coating his mouth. Derek tried to calm him by stroking the back of his neck where his hand rested. This was the second time he was holding the wounded teen. He didn’t like this feeling at all. It made Derek feel like he was failing his pack.

Erica turned away from the forest. She gasped. She rushed to Stiles, pushing Derek away slightly. She turned Stiles on his side gently and cleaned off his mouth with the sleeve of her sweater. Stiles’ breathing regulated for a few moments and then he passed out.

“We need to get help now.” She said from experience.

Derek nodded, lifting Stiles again. “Stiles. Hold on.”

 

|~~***~~|

 

Stiles woke with a gasp. Scratchy, ugly beige covers flew in every direction as he flung them off his body. He took in his surroundings in a bleary haze. He groaned as he quickly recognized the room. The last time he woke up in the Headmaster’s room was when Scott had gotten bit.

“Ugh. What’s—”

“Take this.”

A potion was stuffed under his nose. Now, wasn’t this overly familiar. “Nice to see you too Deaton.” Learning from previous experience, he held his nose as he downed the Pick-Me-Up Potion. He handed the empty vial back to Deaton. “All right, Deaton. Lay it on me. What happened this time?”

“I was hoping you could tell me, the others only said you swooned dramatically.”

Stiles groaned. “I didn’t swoon! I might have passed out in the most manliest of manliest falls of unconsciousness after doing something undoubtedly heroic.”

“Call it what you will, but you have been unconscious for about two days.”

“Two days! Holy Hippogriff’s Balls.”

“Stiles.”

“Oh right.” He raised his knees and rested his head on them. He tried to recall to the best of his abilities. “We were being chased by acromantulas.”

“Of course you were. I hope your friends and you understand that the Forbidden Forest was not named out of fancy.”

Stiles shrugged. It probably wouldn’t stop them from going in the forest anyway. Deaton sighed in exasperation. He made Stiles extend his arms as he checked him over with his wand. Stiles retold what he could remember as he watched the tip of Deaton’s wand shift from pink to blue as it roamed over his body. “Uh I fell in a stream and I don’t know. I felt...I don’t know how to describe it. My magic felt like it was burning me from the inside. I wasn’t in control of my body and then...” _Derek carried me back to the castle_ “That’s all I can remember.”

“When you fell, did blood fall into the stream?”

Stiles thought back on it. He remembered scraping his arm. “I think so. Why?”

“You might want to read that book of yours. Muggles have their own take on mythology and they like to relate Rhea with the river and last night was a full moon, dropping blood under those conditions, might have affected your magic.”

“Well I don’t feel any different.”

“Are you positive?”

“Well my skin feels a little warm but that’s normal with any moonwalker related magic outburst.” He rubbed his arm, feeling magic prickle under his skin. “Where are the others?”

“I sent them to their dorms. Told them they couldn’t miss classes.”

“Right, what time is it?”

“It’s barely morning. You seem well enough to head back to the dorms actually.” Deaton tucked his wand away. “Do you feel well though?”

“Think so.” Stiles tried to stand up. He felt a little dizzy and had a bit of a migraine but it was nothing a few hours of sleep couldn’t heal. “So can I go?”

“Of course.”

“Well uh thank you Headmaster.”

Deaton gave him an exasperated smile but wished Stiles off.

Stiles felt extremely tired despite he had been sleeping for two days straight, but he was grateful when he crashed back into his comfortable bed. He noticed the others were fast asleep which was good because he wasn’t in the mood to answer questions. He tucked his pillow under his head and fell fast asleep.

 

Stiles felt an arm tighten around his waist. The arm was nice and comforting so Stiles wiggled further into it. He sighed as he felt a nice warm body next to his. He was about to go back to sleep but then he felt another arm across his chest drag him in the other direction. Stiles awoke slowly. What was going on? He felt two people nuzzle on either side of his neck. That woke him up with a definite start.

“What the hell?!” Stiles shrieked as he saw Jackson and Aiden in his bed. He was both terrified that they were there and also by the fact that they managed to fit in such a small bed.

Jackson and Aiden seemed just as shocked at being tangled with Stiles. But then Jackson and Aiden sniffed and then were both dragging Stiles back into bed. Stiles struggled, trying to get free. What were they doing?

Stiles felt Jackson nosing along the back of his neck and Aiden dragging his nose above his hairline. _Oh no._ “Guys! C’mon!”

His overly loud noise woke Matt and Danny. Danny pulled open his drapes, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He slumped as he took the sight in. “I am so afraid to ask.”

Matt only took a few seconds to react before he was pulling his camera from his nightstand. He flashed a picture. Stiles was blinded by the bright light. “Hey! What was that for?”

Matt took one more picture as Jackson began to sniff and mouth at his collarbone. “Blackmail.”

“What? For who?”

Matt shrugged and took another. “Haven’t decided yet. Probably you.”

“You bastard, I’m going to—” Stiles felt his face flush and he felt warmth pool in a certain part of his anatomy as Aiden’s knee nudged back and forth between his legs. It was only normal. They were excluding too much body warmth and it was the morning. But it was getting awkward real fast.

“Let go! _**Let go!**_ ”

Jackson and Aiden both released him with a glaze in their eyes. Stiles took the time to push away the covers and rush out of bed.

“What is going on?”

Jackson made a face. “ _Oh_...you’re back.”

“You realize that now! You were just groping me in _my_ bed.”

Danny grabbed his towel to head to the showers. “I really don’t want to know.” Matt did the same.

The three waited for the showers to start before speaking.

Jackson shrugged. “You smell good.”

“Yeah,” Aiden agreed. Stiles still felt awkward with Aiden. They still hadn’t addressed the whole working for Deucalion thing yet since they came back to Hogwarts.

“Yeah well that doesn’t give you an excuse to come slithering into my bed.”

“How long have you been waiting to use the word slithering in reference to a Slytherin?”

“A few months. I actually thought it was pretty clever in a cliche sort of way. But that’s not the point, what are you doing?”

Jackson stood up, only wearing a pair of fine silk pajama bottoms. “We told you. You smell super good for some reason.” Jackson grabbed onto Stiles’ waist. His fingers dug into his hip bones as he pinned Stiles against the bedpost to sniff him again. “It’s weird; you always smelled like goblin piss.”

Stiles tried to push Jackson off as he pressed their bodies together, but the Slytherin used his werewolf strength. “Ugh fuck!” Stiles gave an unmanly shriek as he felt Aiden come behind him and sniff along the back of his neck. “ _ **Let go!**_ ” Again the werewolves did. It was easier to command them, he noticed, which was unusual. He tried to keep the command going. _**“I’m going to shower and you are not going to come near me ok.”**_

The werewolves nodded with that same glaze in their eyes.

Stiles sighed in relief and headed to the showers. He got ready for the day and kept shooting wary glances in Jackson and Aiden’s way to make sure they weren’t going to sniff him again. As soon as the Slytherins made it out of the dorms, Jackson latched back onto Stiles. Aiden seemed like he wanted to but he left their group to go with Matt.

“Ok now I’m getting curious.” Danny said. “What’s going on?”

Stiles pushed Jackson away and used Danny as a buffer. “I have no idea.”

The three made it to the Great Hall. Stiles immediately headed to the Gryffindor table to get away from Jackson. Jackson made a face but Danny herded his friend to the Slytherin table, far away from Stiles.

As soon as he sat down, Scott and Cora snapped their heads toward him, eyes wide and nostrils flared.

“Why do you smell so good?” Scott asked, invading his friend’s space without hesitation.

Stiles mouth opened wide in exasperation. “Oh fucking crap. Not you too.”

Cora leaned in as well and began to sniff her friend.

“Uhhh...” Allison laughed awkwardly. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know.” Stiles tried to shove Cora, but her claws dug into his thigh under the table. He yipped and let Cora tuck her face into his shoulder.

“The others told me what happened. How are you feeling?”

“Great! Aside from the werewolves molesting me.” Stiles tried to shove at Scott so he could pour himself some pumpkin juice. “Regret turning down your girl’s night out for the full moon about now.”

“Did you roll in something or...?” Allison asked with an amused face as Scott gave up all pretense of eating to hug his friend.

Stiles reluctantly sagged into it. “Yeah of course I did. I love to start my day by rolling around in wolf-nip. Wait, Freaking Founding Fathers is that a thing? Please tell me there is no such thing.”

Allison shook her head. “No such thing.”

“Oh thank Merlin. Then why the hell are—”

_“Stiles!”_

Stiles groaned as he heard Erica. She immediately latched behind him, her arms encircled his waist. “You’re back! We missed you! And you smell _amazing!_ ”

“You really do,” Isaac laughed, squeezing in between Scott and Stiles to get his arms around the Slytherin. Boyd sat next to Cora and loomed over to get to Stiles as well.

Stiles jumped in his seat trying to get away. “Son of a witch’s tit!” The pack was starting to get a lot for attention from the rest of the castle. Stiles was trying to act like it was a normal thing, but when several of his friends had their face in his neck, it was hard to.

“What are all of you doing?”

Stiles turned and sagged in relief when he saw Derek. The older Hufflepuff was wearing his usual frown as he let his messenger bag strap hang off one shoulder. The Slytherin immediately noticed that Derek wasn’t reacting any different from the others.

“Oh thank Salazar. You haven’t flipped a shit like them.”

“Derek!” Erica grinned. “Stiles smells _amazing._ ” She nuzzled the back of his neck. Stiles fought the urge to shiver as her blonde curls tickled him.

Derek’s eyes grew almost comically wide. Stiles would have laughed if he wasn’t drowning in a sea of uncontrollable pups. He shrieked when he felt someone’s hand graze his upper thigh. “ _ **Back off now.**_ ”

All the werewolves dislodged from Stiles with a frown.

Cora sighed. “What the hell?”

“You’re seriously asking that. I was the one being molested!”

Boyd rolled his eyes. “God, you whine a lot.”

_“Jackson!”_

Everyone watched as Danny and Lydia tried to pull Jackson back to the Slytherin table, but the blonde merly used a bit of his werewolf strength to hurdle to the Gryffindor one.

He sat down next to Allison. His girlfriend and best friend had no choice but to follow.

“If everyone gets to be with Stiles. I do too.” He huffed in his most bratty voice.

Lydia rolled her eyes. “Can someone please tell me why Stiles is suddenly the center of attention?”

“Yeah, I would like to know too.” Stiles shouted.

“Maybe someone slipped all of you a potion?” Danny asked.

Derek sat next to Stiles, sending Isaac and Scott further down the table. “We can figure it out after classes. Let him settle back in peace. He’s been out for two days.”

The pack whined, but complied.

Stiles perked up at the mention of the number of days and turned to Isaac. “Which by the way thank you, Isaac!”

Isaac threw a rude gesture.

“Don’t you dare throw that at me or I’ll get your rat and feed it to Scott’s owl!”

Isaac rolled his eyes, pretending not to listen.

Thankfully, Stiles command lasted for the rest of breakfast so he didn’t have to stick any forks in any of the pack’s appendages. The bell rang and the fifth year Slytherins and Hufflepuffs headed to History of Magic while the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws headed to DADA.

As they left the Great Hall, the command seemed to have worn off because Erica and Jackson latched onto him. He groaned in frustration all the way up to the fourth floor. He could see Aiden a few feet away wanting to go smell him too, but he appeared to have better restraint than his friends.

Throughout the day, Stiles was seen with a human leech. Blake had thrown a fit at the distraction the pack caused and separated everyone. Harris gave detention, which was enough deterrent. Finstock yelled like a mandrake, made crude, poorly constructed sexual remarks, and threw books at the pack to get away from Stiles and pay attention.

When it was finally dinner time, the entire pack minus Derek nearly knocked Stiles to the ground. It was Lydia who decided to call a pack meeting.

So all of them headed up the seven flight of stairs to the Room of Requirement. As soon as Stiles sat on the couch, the pack members fought over him. Stiles tried to bat everyone away but became distracted when Lydia began to take off her tie. Although, he held no feelings toward her anymore, he knew without a doubt one should always pay rapt attention when Lydia Martin was removing an article of clothing.

She pulled out her wand and transfigured the tie into a top hat. With the Room’s help, slips of paper with the pack’s name on it was placed inside the hat. She pulled one out. “Boyd.”

Stiles was momentarily confused as the pack whined and groaned, but it finally hit him when Boyd placed an arm over his shoulder and stuck his face in his neck.

 _“What? Did you just raffle me?”_ Stiles shrieked indignantly.

Lydia shrugged. “Got them off, right?”

Stiles couldn’t argue.

“I’m starting to reconsider whether there really is a wolf-nip,” Allison commented, sitting in Scott’s lap to prevent him from moving.

“They’re scenting. It’s usually normal, but I haven’t seen anything like this.” Derek called from the recliner chair.

“Scenting? What’s that?” Isaac asked as he played with his dumbo rat to distract himself from Stiles.

“When you're in a pack you try to rub your scent on another pack member.”

“Aw great. I’m the equivalent of dog urine on a tree. Thanks guys.”

“It’s not a mark of territory. It’s just a way to say you’re pack. Sometimes some scents are better than others so pack members try to get the good smelling scent on them.”

“That’s weird.” Jackson commented.

Cora spoke up. “It’s not. All of you do it, just subtly. Like how Isaac likes playing with Erica’s hair, you and Boyd shoving at each other...”

Lydia hummed, absorbing this new piece of information. “So that explains why Jackson has been more touchey lately.”

Derek and Cora made a disgusted face. “That’s something else.”

“What?”

Derek’s turned away as he answered, “I’m not going to explain that to you. You’re smart enough to figure it out.”

“Wait ok. I get the scenting but why does Stiles smell good now?” Scott asked.

“Aw crap. Deaton might have mentioned I might have set something off in my Moonwalker magic.” Stiles tried to place his head in his hands but Boyd was preventing him from doing so.

“Hmm.” Allison put on a thoughtful face. “Why not let Derek smell for anything off. Alpha’s have a better sense of smell so he should be able to smell if there’s anything we need to worry about.”

Stiles squinted. “There is something to worry about. Everyone is molesting me.”

“I meant something dangerous that puts you in peril.”

Derek leaned further into the recliner. “There isn’t anything wrong with his new scent.”

He grunted in frustration when Lydia snapped her head to him, leave it to her to be the one to catch his mistake. “Wait, you can smell Stiles’ new scent?”

Everyone turned to Derek.

“If you lie we can always tell.” Cora remarked.

Derek rolled his eyes, giving in. “What all of you are smelling now is what I have been smelling since I became an Alpha.”

Lydia cocked her head. _“Interesting.”_

“ _Interesting!_ Dude I thought I smelled like a dragon’s ass to you.” Stiles paused as gears turned around his head. “Holy Merlin’s Balls! This explains so much.” He thought back to all the times Derek had smelled—scented him.

Isaac lounging on the floor spoke up.“All I got from this is that Derek has been holding out on us.”

Cora’s eyes narrowed. “Wait how are you in control?”

Derek’s hands clenched on the recliner. “It’s challenging but all you have to do is focus on your anchor.”

“Why would you want to do that?” Erica asked as she tried to lean in close to Stiles. “He smells delicious.”

“Erica.” Boyd warned.

“Ugh, fine he’s mine next.”

Stiles huffed loudly. “No I’m not. I need to find a way around this.”

“Moonwalker book?” Scott asked.

“Yeah.”

“Well in the meantime you translate that…” Scott said as everyone began to crawl toward him once more.

“I said _**back off!**_ ”

“Hmmm.” Lydia stepped near Stiles as the werewolves retreated. “You can command them more.”

“Yeah noticed that too.”

“You should command Jackson to stop being so pretentious.”

“Yeah, I don’t think it works that way. It sort of wears off. I’ve been telling Jackson, Erica, and Isaac for the entire day that they can’t place their hands inside my thigh.”

All three made a face and threw a crude gesture.

“Well figure it out.” Derek ordered. “We can’t have them hanging off you throughout the entire castle. People will get suspicious.”

“That Stiles is a slut?” Lydia added.

Jackson gagged. “Oh Merlin. Ok that is going to ward me off for a bit.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and just hoped for the best.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Stiles had been doing his best to translate the Moonwalker book as quickly as possible. It was utterly difficult without Lydia and Boyd who refused to help. Boyd being the obvious reason that he wanted Stiles to continue smelling the way he was, and Lydia was sadistic because she was obviously getting some sick joy watching her boyfriend all over him.

Which was probably the most awkward thing in the world. Jackson had the disgusting habit of getting to Stiles when he was in the shower. It was most prominent after Quidditch practices and Jackson would go into the shower stall and pin Stiles against the wall. And if Stiles got a an erection out of it...well maybe perhaps it was just because it was hard to ignore hands digging into his waist and a warm body pressing up against him. Stiles would have tried to pass it off as pack bonding except that the entire team kept looking at them weird, especially Malia and Danny. He was grateful that Aiden was getting some control because he didn’t know what he would do if both of them harassed him in the shower stall.

The others weren’t that much better.

Spending time with his two best friends in the Gryffindor tower was getting to be a hassle. Cora was getting better at self control, but when she saw Scott sprawled on him, Cora gave up all pretense and joined him. Although, secretly he was beginning to enjoy their company. Stiles was an extremely tactile person by nature so sometimes he would command his two best friends to be less aggressive and the three would cuddle in Scott’s bed while doing homework. Sometimes, Ethan joined in too, but he kept the most distance.

Isaac and Erica were completely different matter. They were the most aggressive no matter how much Stiles told them no. They would constantly grope him in the middle of class, Erica loved to pull him into broom cupboards, and Isaac loved to throw himself in the Great Hall.

He was positive and wouldn’t be surprised if the castle thought he had set up some weird harem.

Boyd. Oh dear Merlin help him. Boyd was the absolute worst. He didn’t have to do anything. All he had to do was stare from across the hallway or class and there was Stiles hobbling over to sit beside the Hufflepuff.

All of it was utterly humiliating.

He needed it to stop.

Thankfully he had translated the part in the book exactly where he needed to be.

“I just want to say this is all your fault.” Stiles said as the pack settled around the Room of Requirement.

Derek’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Because I just found out why I started smelling bad in the first place. And it’s your fault Mr. Alpha.”

Derek didn’t seem amused that blame was directed at him.

Stiles continued. “There are three stages in Moonwalker magic. A person can have the magic be dormant their entire life if they don’t activate it. And you activated the first stage back in my third year.”

Derek huffed. “What are you talking about?”

“Third year. Your fourth. I was in the library looking to make a love potion for Lydia.”

“Is this also the same time frame where you grew breast?” Cora asked distastefully.

“Yeah which looked amazing on me by the way, but that’s not important. The first stage is activated by direct contact with a werewolf. Derek pinned me on one of the shelves in the library. Which I know is the exact moment I started smelling bad because you ran away gagging.” Stiles watched as realization hit Derek.

“What’s the bad smell for though?” Boyd asked.

“It’s a protection spell to ward off werewolves from young Moonwalkers who are barely learning magic. That’s all it is, except an Alpha’s sense of smell is usually better so they can smell through the protection spell and smell the Moonwalker magic, which is basically concentrated moon magic that is supposed to be super alluring to werewolves, which makes sense considering that Pandia used her magic to draw werewolves in...And the protection spell is in place only because Moonwalker magic in its first stage is really fickle. We can command werewolves but only under stressful situations and that’s really all about it.”

“And then the second stage was activated?” Lydia asked.

“Yup. Remember that passage we read in Ancient Runes?” He asked Boyd and Lydia. He then reiterated it. “ _I cleansed their being and soaked them in the river. I sliced their skin with spells that made their blood flow in the river with their raw untaught magic. Their blood turned clear in the water and when Pandia shone down on them, she overflowed them with pure magic._ Those lines are exactly from my book. Second stage is activated by dropping blood in a river under a full moon. Thing is you can die from it. It’s a lot of magic entering the body and few survive it. Rhea had eleven kids she did this too and only eight survived. If you hadn’t…” He trailed off awkwardly.

“What does the second stage do?” Scott cut off quickly.

“I began skimming once I knew what the rune for scent was. So I’m not really sure. But I did find out how to stop smelling like this.” He made a distasteful face toward his friends. “You guys have to find my true scent. I need it for a potion. It’s not that difficult to brew, I can do it in a sitting.”

The Betas got quiet.

“What?”

Erica spoke first behind Stiles. “What if we like you smelling like this?”

“What?”

“I mean. It’s a much more tolerable smell.”

“What? No. You can’t!”

The werewolves grinned. Scott whined at his best friend. “Oh c’mon. Is it that bad? We are getting better aren’t we?”

“Jackson and Erica pulled me into a broom cupboard in between classes all of today.”

“But not in class.” Jackson defended.

“Only because Morrell subtly threatened to stuff mountain ash down your throat in Herbology yesterday.”

Jackson shrugged.

“C’mon guys. I’m getting tired of it.”

None of the werewolves reacted.

“Lydia! Allison! Talk some sense into your stupid boyfriends.”

Lydia and Allison shared a look. Lydia smiled coyly. “I kinda like it too. It’s been giving us more girl time.”

Allison nodded. “Agreed. Its benefitting everyone.”

“Except me. Derek, talk some sense into your puppies.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “You can command them, can’t you?”

“Right. I command you to find my true scent.” No one reacted. Stiles groaned. “Fine whatever. I’m going to the library. _**None of you follow me.**_ ” That command had an effect, which caused Stile to realize that perhaps there was a connection to emotion and his magic. He gave a glare to all his best friends and then settled with throwing a rude gesture as he left them.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Stiles had reached his limit. He wanted all his friends to stop. He loved them all to death...although maybe that love for Jackson wasn’t as strong after he had been groped in the showers yet again...but he was fed up. So he was turning to his last hope.

He stalked around the Forbidden Forest. Thankfully, Derek was in his usual spot. He wasn’t working out but he was reading the book Stiles had given him. A group of thestrals hovered near by. A small foul knocked his head against Derek’s shoulder.

“I think they’re hungry.” Stiles spoke, pulling himself up to sit on the boulder by Derek. Derek increased the distance between them by sliding on the boulder.

“They already stole my food.” Derek remarked. He flipped a page.

Stiles leaned in close. “What story are you on?”

“The Warlock’s Hairy Heart.” Derek said monotone.

“Oh I used to think that was the creepiest one.”

“Really? I find it sad.”

Stiles tucked his red sweater closer to his body. “Why’s that?”

“He’s on a quest for invulnerability.”

“But that’s foolish.”

“Kind of the point. No one has ever escaped some form of injury. Which is kind of the moral of the story. It makes you feel bad for him a bit how he tries so hard anyway.”

Stiles paused. He came to the quick conclusion that he liked listening to Derek talk and sound academic. He wasn’t sure why, but it was extremely interesting to hear. But Stiles loved academic talk too, even more when he was arguing about it. “Bad? He saw love as a humiliation, a drain on a person’s emotional and material resources. So he locked away his heart. That’s not someone I would feel sorry for. His downfall was his own fault. Why would love be a weakness?”

Derek closed the book, deep in thought. Stiles thought he wouldn’t answer, but then Derek looked at him. “Because liking someone out of familial relation is scary. It’s a new vulnerability that people don’t know how to deal with and those that are familiar with it are wary.” He turned to the book. “So the warlock is obviously the latter. He’s familiar with vulnerability and this love so he locks his heart from everyone around him including the young maiden.”

“What? Where does it say that?”

“It’s implied.”

Stiles chuckled. “Or you’re reading too much into it?”

Derek once more proved he did not appreciate being laughed at. “He felt humiliated with the idea of love. He _knows_ what it is. You can’t feel that emotion from observing your friends.”

“So the warlock is just protecting himself from getting hurt again?”

“Yeah.”

Stiles scrunched his face. “That’s dumb too though. I mean let’s say there was this amazing beautiful witch who broke his heart before the story even begins. He obviously mourned and stuff but he can’t close himself off to meeting new people. If he closes off everyone who cares for him, the people will stop cause they will see it’s not worth it, which is what begins happening in the story. And let’s say, if he happens to fall in love with an even more beautiful witch, go for it. If she rips his heart out, it’s probably a lot less painful than if he did it himself. So if you look at it this way the moral of the story changes. Don’t close yourself off to new love or you’ll get a hairy heart.”

Derek was silent. He tucked the book into his bag. “Did you come out here for a reason.” He said in annoyed tone.

“Gee Derek nice to know I can talk with you about anything.”

Derek gave him a deadpanned look.

“Ok yeah. I did. I need your help with finding my true scent. The others are being non-compliant.”

“Ok.” Derek said without hesitation.

“Really?”

“Did you not want me to do it or?”

“No! I mean yes! But I just didn’t think you would want to do it. It requires no personal space, which I know you prize deeply.”

Derek jumped off the boulder and stood in front of Stiles. The boulder’s height left Stiles at a higher vantage point. Derek craned his neck to meet Stiles’s eyes. “The others are starting to get on my nerves too. Plus, I would hate to see what they would do to you when the full moon came around.”

“Crap. I didn’t think about that.”

“Yeah.”

“So, uh here?”

“Would you prefer inside where everyone can see?”

Stiles squeaked. “Here’s good.”

Derek leaned in, standing between Stiles’ spread legs. He met Stiles’ eyes for a short moment and then pressed his face in Stiles neck. Stiles tensed. Derek pressed closer. Suddenly, Stiles felt hyper aware of everything. Derek’s nose trailed along the side of his neck, up and down. Stiles really tried not to move, but the gentle caress was making Stiles lean in closer to Derek, until without realizing, Stiles placed his hands on Derek’s shoulders.

Derek stepped even closer, their flesh touching.

Stiles felt the need to break the uncomfortable silence and contact. “Uh how are you doing there buddy?”

Derek pulled back, his eyes dilated and face flushed. _Holy Shit._ That looked like a complete _I have been fucked out of my brains look._ Stiles hated to admit it was a good look on the other.

“It’s actually harder than it looks. The scent is really hidden.” Derek said, panting a bit. Stiles regretted putting him in this situation a bit. Derek had been holding back for months on trying to scent him and he was now probably putting all his urges in this single moment.

“So uh..”

“I can get it don’t worry.”

And then once more Stiles was pressed flush against Derek. Stiles didn’t mean to gasp but Derek’s lips against his throat was unexpected. The drag of Derek’s upper lip sent a chill through Stiles’ body. Unconsciously, his legs tightened at Derek’s sides. Derek placed his palms on Stiles’ thighs.

“Alder.” Derek spoke, his lips still smashed against Stiles.

“Great so…”

“There’s more hold on.”

Derek’s lips traveled up to his jaw, to his hairline. “Willow...and…”

Derek’s lips once more made their trek on his body. Stiles held back the groan when he felt a tongue and lips mouthing at his collarbone. This was getting really weird, but it felt so good. His hands and legs tightened on Derek. The tongue swiped again. Stiles’ breath hitched and then Derek pulled back.

Stiles felt heat pull in his gut as Derek licked his lips. “Sugar cane.”

“Huh?”

“People tend to have two or three scents. You smell like alder, willow, and sugar cane.”

It took a while for Stiles to get his bearings back, especially since Derek was looking extremely attra—nope. No.

“Uh great. Yeah ok cool.” He coughed. “We just need to find those three things.”

Derek took a while to nod, he licked his lips. Stiles followed the movement carefully. He jumped when he heard one of the thestrals neigh. Derek increased the distance between them...and wow...this was awkward. “Ok...so uh I need to find the…”

“I’ll help you.” Derek said, voice hoarse.

Derek helped Stiles some more by searching for the right trees in the forest. Stiles grabbed a few leaves and both headed to the Herbology greenhouses to find the sugar canes. Luckily, Morrell always took delicate care of all her plants so even if they weren’t in season, they were still preserved. He broke off a few cane stalks and headed over to an empty lab table in the back of the room.

Pulling out several potions, Stiles began to measure out everything. He handed the leaves to Derek and ordered him to ground them.

Derek didn’t move.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “C’mon, I need to set up the cauldron.” Still, Derek did not move. “Ok, if you’re not going to help then I’ll see you during dinner.”

Stiles grabbed the leaves and picked up the knife. Derek sighed.

“Give it here.” Derek ordered.

Stiles scrunched his eyes in confusion but handed it to him anyway. Stiles watched as Derek cut the leaves delicately. He laughed. “Dude, it’s just grounding.”

Derek glared at him.

And then Stiles laughed more as he remembered, “That’s right. You need an Exceeds an Expectation to take Potions. You didn’t pass.”

“If you value your life, you’ll stop laughing.”

Stiles wisely listened to Derek. “Don’t worry, just cut it as small as you can and then ground it into a fine powder. It doesn’t need to be perfect.”

Derek nodded. He worked in silence until he was done. He looked to Stiles, watching the other boy work with concentration. He knew Stiles wasn’t as great as Potions as someone like Lydia, Allison, or Erica but he was decent enough that he wasn’t failing the class. He just needed some extra concentration, so Derek remained quiet. However, when he saw Stiles’ pull out a rare potion ingredient, he froze.  

“Isn’t that moon rabbit hair? Where did you get that?”

“Stole it from Harris’ stock with the help of Allison. I told her if she could sneak me in I would grab something for her.”

“What did she get?” He was a little worried if one of his pack members was going to try brewing something illegal.

“Acromantula venom. She was peeved that Erica couldn’t get any. She wanted it for something don’t remember what”

Stiles smiled when he got the potion the right color. He grabbed the powder from the leaves and the liquid from the sugar cane and poured into the cauldron.

The cauldron bubbled and then turned into a beautiful honey yellow. Stiles used a ladle to pour some of the potion into an evaporating dish. He took a long pause before removing his coat. He didn’t give Derek a chance to protest as he cut a fine line into his upper arm. He used a test tube to collect some blood before pouring into the evaporating dish.

“So now what?” Derek asked, watching Stiles swirl the blood with the mixture.

“I drink it and say the spell.”

“And its gone for good?”

“I can reverse it by saying the counterspell.”

There was a pause and then Stiles was grinning. “How bout it? Want one more sniff before the scent is gone?”

Derek wanted to say yes desperately. But he was scared he had crossed a line back in the Forbidden Forest. Also, he didn’t know if Stiles was kidding, his heartbeat was beating too quickly to discern any emotion.

“I’m cool with it. Everyone else got tons of time with me. You’re the only one who didn’t and you’ve been holding back a lot better than the others for months.”

“I’m good.”

Stiles shrugged. He then picked up the dish and downed it one go. He didn’t retch, like he usually did when drinking a potion, but it most likely had to with that the scent was his own and thus something familiar. _“Odaratio Evanscre.”_

And then Derek felt the air around them change. Stiles hiccuped once. Twice. And then the moon scent was gone. Derek stood from his stool to invade Stiles’ personal space from behind. He was confused how quickly the scent changed. Without meaning to, he pressed his face in Stiles’ neck, taking the new scent in.

“Is it all gone?”

“Yeah.”

He continued the motion, his hands falling to the desk on either side of Stiles. Stiles sighed and took the sensation in leaning his head against Derek’s shoulder, baring his neck. “Are you scenting?”

“Huh?”

“Allison explained to me that Scott does it to her, she said it’s relaxing. I’m starting to see it now.”

That made Derek immediately push off. Scott scented Allison obviously because the two were in a relationship. Stiles and him were _not_ in a relationship. They couldn’t be. Derek needed to get that memorized.

Stiles, thankfully, didn’t question it. He went back to pour more of the potion into the dish.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting rid of my scent.”

“You did.”

“No my true scent.”

“What do you mean?”

“The same potion and spell can get rid of my true scent. I will be undetectable to all werewolves or anything that can catch my scent.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

“Its safer that way.”

“Leave it. It’s safer if the pack can smell you.” _And, I think I prefer this smell more_ , although Derek knew that was the part of him that had a crush on Stiles talking.

“Ok. So uh are you going to keep scenting or?”

Derek still wanted to. He wanted to lift Stiles from the stool and lay him over the lab table and take him in, but there were strict boundaries with that. “No.”

“All right then.” Stiles packed away the potion into a small vial, stashing it in his pocket.

When Derek and Stiles found the rest of the pack, those who were werewolves lamented that they could no longer sniff Stiles, but the majority of them took in joy smelling Stiles’ true scent, and they proceeded to scent him for a good few minutes.

Stiles laughed as the scenting was strictly platonic, a much different mood from when they were smelling Stiles’ magic. Derek wanted to join in, but he knew if he took any further steps toward Stiles, he wouldn’t be able to pull back.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Stiles jumped out of bed. He was ecstatic that it was morning. He thought he would never feel that in his years at Hogwarts, but he had good reason to today. He jumped into the shower to avoid suspicion and let the warm water soak his body. He saw a shadow behind his curtain and he knew it was Jackson. His mood brightened after the whole scent thing. He was glad it was gone. He was back to the usual bouts of teasing with everyone else.

He reached for the bar of soap and nearly dropped it when he heard a high pitched scream. Stiles grinned. He grabbed the bar more securely and continued to bathe as he heard more screams.

When he finished his shower, he stepped outside and grinned as he headed to the mirrors to take in his reflection. His entire skin was tinged an electric blue. He smiled more widely. His white teeth contrasted brightly against the color.

He heard more screaming as he headed back to the dorms to go change.

He saw Danny sitting on his bed, his own skin tinged gold. “I’m going to assume this was you’re doing?” He asked in monotone.

“What?” Stiles asked, turning away from Danny so he wouldn’t be able to see the scars on his bare stomach.

“The skin color?”

“No. Why would I prank myself?”

“To avoid suspicion.”

“Right.”

Danny sighed and then went to go change.

Stiles smirked and did the same. Of course he did this. He hadn’t pranked in months and this just felt refreshing. He had charmed the Slytherin showers to tinge people’s skin to their favorite color. If they had taken a shower at night, the charm activated in the morning, and if they showered in the morning it would take effect as soon as they came out.

Stiles grinned when he saw Aiden come into the dorms, from wherever he had spent the night. He took a quick shower and suddenly he heard Aiden scream. He came out in emerald green. He stomped to Stiles. “Change it back.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Bullshit. I can tell you are lying.”

“...I always forget you can do that.”

“Reverse it.”

“Can’t. I was too lazy to research the reverse spell. It was too long. It should wear off in twenty four hours though.”

Then they heard _the_ scream.

They saw Jackson march out and immediately all three boys began to crack up.

Jackson’s skin was tinged a dusty rose pink. With his hair spiked in all directions from the shower, and by the fact he was wearing a green towel, Jackson resembled a giant tulip. As usual, Stiles couldn’t hold in his observation.

“You look like a tulip.”

Danny and Aiden cracked up even louder, forgetting their own skin color in favor to make fun of Jackson.

Jackson lunged forward. Stiles jumped across his bed laughing. Jackson grabbed Stiles’ ankle and dragged him across the bed. Stiles’ hands scrambled dramatically to find something to hold onto but all he did was drag his bedsheets down with him.

Stiles’ tailbone hit the stone floor harshly. He would have complained if Jackson wasn’t above him.

Thankfully, Danny interrupted.

“Oh holy Merlin.”

Everyone froze at Danny’s scared tone.

“What?” Jackson asked, forgetting his anger momentarily.

“Your ass in pink.” Danny said as Jackson’s towel had begun to slip.

It would have been funny if not for the fact, the other boys began to wonder what else changed color.

Living in a dormitory for five years, no one had any qualms about pulling down their pants and towels.

“Great Salazar!” Aiden shrieked. “My dick looks like a snake.”

Stiles looked at his own junk that was now an electric blue. He absentmindedly wondered if he jizzed would the color be an electric blue too.

Jackson went to go change. “You better hope this doesn’t leave any permanent effects, Stiles!” Jackson threatened. There was a slight growl to it too.

“It shouldn’t.” Stiles said, beginning to change as well.

It was at that moment the door to their room began to shake.

“Stiles!” Several people shouted from the other side.

Stiles eeped. “Would you guys mind covering for me?”

All the Slytherins gave him an incredulous look.

“Right. We are all assholes. I always seem to forget that too.”

“Hey.” Aiden interrupted. “Have you guys seen Matt?”

The others turned to the empty bed that was tended neatly. Stiles felt a bit guilty for not noticing his other roommate wasn’t there with him.

“Hasn’t he been hanging out with that Ravenclaw girl as of late?” Danny said, the ever observant one.

Aiden made a face of confusion.

The door banged again.

Stiles groaned as he threw on his Slytherin tie with a messy loose knot. He finally decided to face the crowd of angry and vain Slytherins.

He was met with Malia leading a group of Slytherin girls behind her. He noticed that Malia was a very very bright and obnoxious purple. The color didn’t do any wonders for her as it clashed horribly with her hair and Slytherin uniform.

“Hey Malia.”

The girls all began yelling at him, but all he could see was a sea of rainbow.

He could hear protesting behind him, but he couldn’t turn around to see what his roommates were arguing about as the girls kept shoving and prodding at him. Several of them threatened to charm his dick off and into his mouth, which he knew several of them were capable of.

Finally though, he turned around and saw a very shirtless Adonis like Danny.

Danny didn’t look amused at all.

But he walked forward and parted the crowd of girls who looked at Danny in awe and made a few catcalls, Jackson came behind Stiles and shoved him roughly forward.

When they finally made it to the dungeons, Jackson handed back Danny his shirt and cardigan.

“I hate you.” Danny grumbled.

“How else would we leave the room. The girls were blocking the entryway.” Jackson stated.

“You could have taken off your shirt.” Danny said as they began walking up the stairs to the Great Hall.

“We needed a distraction, not give the girls a heart attack.”

“Please, Jackson, you’re not as attractive as you may think.” Danny pleaded.

Both Aiden and Stiles held in their snort.

They paused as they noticed a commotion at the front of the entrance of the Great Hall. Stiles’ roommates all sent accusatory glares at Stiles.

“I didn’t make any other pranks.” Stiles defended quickly when his roommates shot him glares.

He walked forward and saw Scott, Cora, and Allison looking up at the arch of the Great Hall door. They did a double take at his appearance, but quickly turned their attention back to the door.

Stiles finally looked up. And there in actual blood, the lettering marred the pristine white arch...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for every single comment, kudo, bookmark, follow, or just even reading my story.
> 
> What did you think of this chapter? I would love to hear every single bit of it!
> 
> Please review por favor! 
> 
> Also random note: Credit for the word wolf nip to jamesm97 
> 
> And the bug scene is inspired by one of my favorite scenes in southpark [LINK HERE](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zWb9wucquU4)
> 
> And here is a timeline for my story in case anyone is interested [LINK HERE](http://twinklingpaopufruit.tumblr.com/post/106072954753/timeline-for-moonwalkers-x-story-summary)


	31. A Bloody Valentine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unsettling events occur at Hogwarts and the pack tries to remain calm. Meanwhile Stiles and Derek go on a date-not so date-but a date.

Never let it fail for Hogwarts students to thrive on the seductive temptation of gossip as they eyed the dripping lettering of blood as if their gaze and hurried murmurs could reveal the secrecy of the words. The students’ demanding urge to catch a peek set a barricade in front of the Great Hall causing the staff and Hogwarts no choice to shove at students to move out of the way.

Stiles smack in the middle of the crowd hardly bothered to care of a first year’s knobby elbow digging into his hip as he watched Matt and Aiden stare up at the lettering a few heads away from him. He strained his ears to listen.

“Where were you last night?” Stiles discerned from reading lips.

“I was at my girlfriend’s, last night.” Matt replied to Aiden.

“I thought you and her broke up before the break.”

“We just got back together.”

Aiden’s face was impressively passive as he regarded the message without any worry. Stiles was hit with the grim reminder that Aiden hadn’t spent the night in the Slytherin dorm and had only returned to shower in the morning. His eyes narrowed on his Slytherin peer.

His scrutinizing and judgmental gaze faltered as Stiles nearly tripped over Derek and Isaac. More students arrived, trying to charge and drill their way onto the scene.

The madness settled as Deaton vociferated like a troll’s roar as he commanded students to enter the Great Hall. Protests from the Ravenclaw House, ever so cautious, questioned with hysteria if it wasn’t even safe to enter. Deaton with his usual calm demeanor assured no dark magic surrounded these walls. Students who did well with authority’s word obeyed Deaton. Only a handful of students, including the pack, remained outside the Great Hall to view the staff’s move. The staff stared at the waiting students with exasperation, but did not bother to direct them to their proper places.

Stiles watched carefully as Finstock approached the arch with an investigating eye. Finstock nodded to himself as if he knew how to fix it and rose his wand to charm the arch clean. It did not work. Stiles found that completely upsetting. Despite that Finstock acted like an utter obnoxious idiot at times—all the time, he was anything but. The man had become a Charms Master at the age of twenty, so watching him struggle to remove the blood had the older students on red alert as they knew that Deaton had lied. This was dark magic.

“Bobby.” Deaton said, placing a hand on Finstock’s shoulder as the Head of Gryffindor began to shout obscenities. “We will clean it later. For the moment, just place a concealment charm.”

Even though Finstock was frazzled he still had the wits to listen. He uttered the spell, but the lettering still stained the arch. Finstock narrowed his eyes in confusion and tried another much more complicated spell, that Stiles hadn’t ever heard of. Again nothing. If it was even possible the lettering got even brighter and started to ooze more blood.

The staff of Hogwarts eyed each other warily.

Stiles and the rest of the pack did not miss the way that Deaton and Morrell sent each other worried glances. If Deaton and Morrell were anxious, then something with strong ill intent was walking around Hogwarts without their knowledge.

Deaton finally turned to the remainder of the students with a false smile. “Please, enter the Great Hall. There is nothing to worry about. We will have this dealt with as soon as possible.”

The pack sent each other disbelieving stares, but as nothing could be done they decided to walk into the eating area. Their worry was left forgotten when they finally and fully took in Stiles and Jackson’s appearance.

“Why pink?” Isaac asked, prodding Jackson’s cheek.

It was the love the pack had for Isaac that stopped Jackson from ramming his fork in between the Hufflepuff’s eyes.

Stiles grinned. “I charmed the showers to turn people’s skin to their favorite color.”

Nearly everyone choked on their food at that revelation. Stiles could see Erica’s thigh move sharply as she kicked Jackson’s shin under the table, in what she most likely deemed was just a tap. “Why Jackson, I never knew you had such a feminine side with all those misogynistic remarks.”

Jackson glared at he harshly bit into a slice of bacon. Erica didn’t seem faced.

“So yours is blue?” Allison asked Stiles sweetly.

“Yup.” Stiles looked at his fingers against the dark brown of his toast. “I thought it would be a softer just neutral blue though. Not so neon.”

Stiles tried to flinch as Cora’s eyes traveled up and down his body. “Hmm...that color reminds me of something. I just can’t remember what.” She said.

Scott looked at his best friend, munching on his cereal like a happy puppy. His eyes lit up in realization. “Derek!”

Everyone looked at him like he didn’t make any sense, which wasn’t any news to the Gryffindor. He sighed with amusement, which Stiles knew Scott was the only person to do that with fondness. “Derek’s old Beta color.” He stage whispered.

The pack turned their attention to Derek. Stiles watched as Derek’s face began to turn unresponsive. “Huh.” Stiles breathed. Scott was right. The color was eerily similar to Derek’s Beta color. He remembered back on it and couldn’t help but feeling a little melancholy. He sort of missed the color. It was a nice color. “It was cool.” He settled with replying as the pack was looking at him for some sort of reply.

Derek and Cora both grew quiet and pushed things around their plates. Derek’s own fingers were trembling minutely against the silverware.

“What?” Stiles asked.

“Not appropriate table conversation.” Cora said, pushing her eggs around her plate. “Sorry.” She muttered at her brother.

Stiles didn’t like dropping subjects that people hid from him, it just made him more curious. “Why?”

“Drop it.” Derek said sternly, meeting Stiles eyes.

Stiles didn’t back down. “But—”

“Uh...so when are we going running again?” Scott questioned to break the hostility in the air.

“Last time we went running we got kidnapped by acromantulas.” Boyd pointed out, bargaining with Jackson for the last piece of bacon.

Stiles followed the new conversation quickly in favor to glower at Isaac. “Yeah and I had a seizure.”

Isaac mimicked his tone. Stiles didn’t jump toward the Hufflepuff only because Scott and Allison were in the way.

“I wouldn’t mind going.” Allison spoke, helping her boyfriend.

And with that train of thought, Stiles knew that if Allison was on board Lydia was usually not far behind. “Hmm it could be a great learning experience on pack dynamics. I say we go tonight.”

“Are you kidding?” Cora snorted. “You wouldn’t be able to keep up with us in those heels.”

“Stiles uses his broom doesn’t he? We can do the same.” Lydia pointed out.

Stiles turned to Derek as he surprisingly grumbled out a “Fine.”

Those most excited for the run, cheered. Stiles however, didn’t miss Cora send Scott a silent thank you on behalf of Derek. Strange…

 

|~~***~~|

 

Their second time at running with the pack wasn’t as bad as the first. First of all, there were no insectoid (arachnids—Isaac kept repeating to the pack) giants and second it wasn’t a full moon. The werewolves had more control, so Derek gave them a little more leeway of where they could go and what they could do.

Derek flipped over a large boulder to land on the one beside it. He sniffed around making sure there was no danger. He saw Allison on her broom racing beside Scott as he ran. Lydia was hidden with Jackson, the two were most likely making out, if the smell said anything, so Derek did his best to not sniff in their direction. He searched for the others. Boyd had Cora on his back as they chased around a doxy. Isaac was right behind them urging them to not startle the creature. Erica was off playing tag with Stiles, although she seemed to be more focused on trying to make him crash into one of the large trees rather than play. Erica was obviously winning.

Derek didn’t even cringe as Stiles smashed into the boulder. His new broom, a Firebolt, knocked him flat on the ground. Derek looked below him as he saw Stiles groaning on the floor. Erica came up behind, laughing way too manically.

Stiles rubbed the side of his head. He sat up slowly and then shouted, “Oh screw you, **_you can stop laughing now_**.”

Erica suddenly stopped as her eyes glazed over for a few seconds. She snapped out of it and then pouted. “That’s not fair.”

“Sorry, can’t control it.” He said without any clear remorse. He stood up, wiping snow off his pants.

Derek took in a small burst of pride as Stiles jumped at his presence. The pride morphed into unamusement as Stiles glared. He knew Stiles wanted to ask about his eye color, but Cora, knowing why, and Scott, who only understood that it was private, kept distracting him. Derek couldn’t tell Stiles about Paige. He frankly didn’t even know how to bring it up to the others without them outright looking at him with disgust and hate. He was sure Cora, at the age of seven, had for a bit. She had loved Paige the moment they met.

Erica jumped on Stiles’ back, knocking him off balance. She held onto him with her claws. Stiles grumbled something about annoying Hufflepuff blondes in which Erica only grinned with “C’mon you know I love you.”

Stiles rolled his eyes at the girl.

Their banter flickered out as Erica and Derek both froze at the scent flooded their nostrils.

Erica well acquainted with the smell as her time an epileptic left her sensitive to it. “Blood.” She stated. Derek had wished it was a question.

He picked out the direction of the smell and sent a fierce glare at his Beta and Stiles. “Stay here.”

Stiles and Erica shared an unconvincing look. “As if,” Stiles and Erica said in sync.

Derek held the groan wanting to erupt as one by one the others appeared around them. God, his Alpha status was a joke to these children. An inner voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Laura reminded him he was only about two years and a half older than his pack. He knew he wouldn’t win against all of them. So, the rest of the pack followed Derek as he tracked down the scent. Derek wasn’t sure if he was happy or not that it was only a two minute walk.

Derek frowned as he took in the sight.

A thestral was lying on its side, lifeless. It’s wings barely hung off its body and its midriff had been cut open, blood and intestines pooling out in chunks. Worms and other small creatures had already invaded the poor creature, scouring it’s innards as food. From the smell of it though it was only about a day old.

Derek was a little surprised as he saw Lydia take the first step forward. She crouched three feet from it to examine the creature. After a moment, she stood straight.

“Thestrals are prized and extremely rare potion ingredients.” She informed.

Isaac glared at the girl. “This isn’t the time to get a potion ingredient, Lydia. It’s dead have some fucking sympathy.”

“No, what I meant to say is that their bodies carry immense magic. Extremely powerful.”

No one understood where she was taking the conversation.

Derek stared her down as she eyed them all unveiled judgment on their stupidity. She then spoke to them as if she was speaking to a toddler. “Thestral blood is extremely powerful and once spilled its stains can’t be removed.”

Boyd was the next to understand. “The blood on the Great Hall.”

And then Stiles, who Derek knew added the important piece of the information. “ _Someone_ killed a thestral to put the message.”

Allison stepped forward toward the thestral. “Well let’s find out. A little help here?” She turned to her boyfriend and Jackson. Both of them made a disgusted face.

Cora sighed. “Honestly, and for centuries men thought they were superior.”

Derek went to help his sister. They moved the thestral gently, a few of its innards spilling further on the ground.

Stiles and Scott made a retching noise.

Allison groaned, but stepped closer. She pulled out her wand, casting a lumos to examine it more closely. “That’s odd.”

“What is?” Derek asked quickly.

“It wasn’t gutted by any human weapon.” Her hand hovered over the creature, questioning whether she should touch it to get a better feel. In the end, she decided to. Derek admired her courage. She coughed but got over her distaste quickly.

“That is one terrifying woman you have there, Scott.” Stiles commented. “Are you sure you can handle her?”

“Nope, she handles herself.”

Jackson snorted. “I bet she does.”

Derek ignored them to ask Allison, “How can you tell?”

“When you use a sword or dagger, they’re usually sharp enough to cut a line that’s somewhat straight. Here the line is jagged and messy like a claw pulled through it. And there are three marks beside it. This was an animal attack.”

“Werewolf?” Derek asked, making sure.

“Not sure. They don’t go in deep enough. It looks like it was a small animal.”

“A small animal took a large thestral down?” Scott asked.

“Thestrals are carnivorous but non-violent.” Isaac spoke. “It wouldn’t have fought very well.”

“Last time you said that we got abducted by acromantulas.” Jackson glared.

“They’re not.” Stiles defended.

“Agreed.” Derek said, setting the thestral back down as gently as he could.

“So we can say an animal attacked a thestral and someone just happened to find it to use it on the Great Hall.” Lydia put everything together.

“Seems like it.” Allison said.

“Who though?” Scott questioned. He grabbed his girlfriend’s hands and placed a cleaning charm without asking.

“Someone who's pissed obviously if they are leaving incriminating messages where everyone can see.” Erica said, cocking a hip.

“Should we tell Deaton?” Isaac asked, trying not to look at the thestral, but it was kind of hard to ignore the black winged horse caked in blood over the snow.

Derek knew it to be best. “Yeah.”

The pack left with relief at no longer having to see the dead creature. They went to Headmaster’s office and were glad to find him in there signing some paperwork. Allison and Lydia explained their reasoning to Deaton, and the Headmaster listened intently, but after a moment sighed.

“We are aware its thestral blood.” Deaton said with much the stoic face he always possessed. “Adrian Harris is familiar with the blood as a potion ingredient and he said the only way to remove it is with the powdered horn of unicorn.”

Jackson and Stiles guffawed. “That’s like over 1000 galleons.” Stiles informed.

“I am aware. We need to remove the message to avoid hysteria amongst the students.”

“Do you have any idea who did it?” Derek questioned.

Deaton sighed. “No. I asked the staff to investigate. Adrian and Jennifer suggested to me it might be a student.”

Stiles made an incredulous face. “With what evidence?”

Deaton was quite. Derek found his calculating gaze as annoying as ever. “I shouldn’t be informing you of this.” Deaton settled, but Derek could hear his rapid heartbeat.  

The entire pack made equal faces of disdain. “You had us take down Deucalion.” Derek informed with apparent haughtiness that he knew was making Jackson proud.

“Which I recall being strongly against. This does not have to do with werewolves, so you are not involved. Now, thank you for the information and the location of the thestral. I will have a few of the staff members go and investigate.”

No one in the pack budged.

Deaton sat straighter. “It is past curfew. Do not make me reprimand you.”

Derek and Lydia seemed the most defiant. Deaton noticed completely. “Most of you are prefects. Please set the example and head back to your dormitories.”

Again no one moved.

“I am your emissary it is my sworn duty to keep you safe. I advise you all to not get involved, now please.”

Derek wanted to ignore Deaton’s advice, but many of the pack members were caving. When the majority already began heading to the door, Derek eye’s narrowed, and it was the respect that Derek had for his mother that had him listening to Deaton.

As they descended the stairs, Erica scoffed. “I can’t believe this. He’s treating us like children...again.”

Derek’s jaw clenched. “It’s because he’s scared.”

Cora agreed with her brother. “What I don’t understand is why? He wasn’t scared about Deucalion. He was scared for us to help, but he himself wasn’t.”

Stiles leaned against the wall as the pack stopped in a random corridor. “Because he knew it was Deucalion he was dealing with. And he actually did know the man, so he knew what he was capable of. This looks like something else. There could be a psychotic killer on the loose, someone we’ve never met. I’ve seen my father’s cases and they all start like this, a warning of what’s to come.”

“Which is why we should investigate.” Scott stated.

“But Deaton’s right.” Boyd spoke up. “This has nothing to do with us. Why not let the adults handle it?”

“Because something just doesn’t sit right.” Derek sighed. “It can’t be a coincidence that this happens right after killing Deucalion.”

“But you have no proof.” Lydia placed a hand on her hip. “You can’t jump to that conclusion.”

“We can’t not jump to it either.” Stiles defended Derek.

Derek’s eyes narrowed at the girl. The pack fought back and forth for a good minute. His pack was obviously divided on the matter. He knew it would be safer to avoid the situation and continue on with their year, but somehow he felt like that wasn’t going to be possible. He sighed as he turned to Stiles. He knew what decision Stiles wanted to take. Stiles wanted to investigate this matter entirely, but Stiles also wanted to follow and respect Derek’s wishes. He looked to the others. Scott, Stiles, Allison, and his sister seemed like the only ones willing to do anything. It was evenly split. He thought to his mother and Laura on what they would do.

“We will let the adults handle this.” Derek said, stopping any further discussion.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Stiles stretched his limbs in all directions. Isaac complained as Stiles accidentally slapped his cheek, while Scott merely took Stiles’ legs and placed them in his lap before continuing to listen to Allison’s tutoring session in Potions.

Stiles felt tired. The fifth years had been studying like crazy. It was Lydia and Boyd who  conspired together and made a time table of a studying schedule for OWLs. The schedule was insane, Isaac, Cora and he were secretly planning on getting the schedule, taped to the bulletin board over the fireplace, and destroying it. They still hadn’t found the time yet, though.

Stiles sat back up, his tailbone complaining at the wooden floor. The room sensed his discomfort because Stiles found a nice plush pillow materializing in his lap a few seconds later. Awesome. He tucked the cushion under him and resumed going over Arithmancy work with Boyd.

“Ok so if you use the Pythagorean Numerology for the Character Numbers…” Stiles trailed off, trying to find the answer to the question he and Boyd had been stuck on for the last eight minutes.

“Wrong.” Lydia spoke up where she was helping Erica with a Charm spell. It wasn’t working since he could see part of Erica’s hair slightly singed at the tips.

“You have to use the Blair Opal Theorem. It should give you the mirror opposites of the Character Numbers. In which if you then use the Pythagorean Numerology it should give you a summation of a 100 in which merely all you have to do is use the Regression Formula to graph the Character Numbers.”

Allison butted in. “Would you use a Simple Linear Regression or a Hierarchical Multilevel Regression?”

Lydia smiled. “Hierarchical, you need to organize the data into a hierarchy of regressions, for example where A is regressed on B, and B is regressed on C.”  

Scott groaned. “Oh God, my head hurts can we take a break?”

“Please.” Cora asserted, who had been playing dead on the couch instead of studying.

“We still have twenty more minutes of studying.” Boyd told her.

Jackson groaned from Derek’s recliner chair. “C’mon. If I look at anything pertaining to Potions I’m going to barf.” Everyone had informed him to get off before Derek saw, but Jackson was stubborn and stupid. Stiles secretly hoped Derek would inflict bodily pain on Jackson—Jackson had stolen his box of licorice wand this morning.

Stiles smiled. “So majority rules. Break time.”

He stood up as the door flung open.

Everyone watched as Derek came in grumbling. Stiles nearly cheered in glee as Derek sent a murderous glare as Jackson had dared infringe on his spit. Stiles knew Jackson was debating whether he should flee or just pretend he really wasn’t there.

But as Stiles looked at Derek one more time, the loudest laugh he had ever made expelled from his lips. He jumped over the couch, less than graciously as he went over to Derek. He touched his shoulder maneuvered him so he could get a better look. He laughed harder to the point it was hard to breathe.

Derek growled.

Jackson took the chance to quietly sneak away.

“What’s so funny?” Scott asked, but as he looked at Derek, he began to explode into hysterics as well.

“Shut up.” Derek growled again.

Stiles used his fingers to poke at Derek’s forehead. “Where are your eyebrows dude?”

Derek smacked away at Stiles’ hand.

“Splinching accident.” Derek finally said, sitting down on the recliner chair. “Apparition classes started.”

“Oh Merlin. That’s amazing.” Stiles continued to prod at Derek’s face. Derek kicked him to keep Stiles away. Stiles snorted as if that would keep him out of the way. He climbed onto the recliner chair, until his side was mashed against Derek’s.

“Why don’t you use that hair spell you always use?” Cora asked, smirking at her brother.

Derek sighed. “It doesn’t work on eyebrows.”

“Hair spell?” Erica asked, when she noticed Lydia had spaced out on her for over a minute.

Cora grinned. “He uses hair spells for facial hair.”

All the boys took a minute to catch their breath from the laugh that followed.

“You can’t be serious.” Stiles wheezed against Derek’s cheek as their faces were only four inches apart. Derek glared; it wasn’t very effective without the whole eyebrows thing. “It’s like your werewolf form.”

Derek’s confusion replaced his anger. “What do you mean?”

“You lose your eyebrows too. Did you not notice?”

Derek snarled in a mocking tone. “Sorry my first instinct isn’t to look for a mirror when I’m in my werewolf form.”

Stiles stared at Derek for a long time. “Oh man, I can’t take you seriously.” Stiles pulled out his wand. “Now hold still.”

Stiles maneuvered himself until he was straddling Derek’s knees. Stiles noticed that Derek turned red in the face, probably from anger at the invasion of personal space. Stiles thought about getting off him, but truthfully he was kind of comfortable, and Derek wasn’t pushing him off so...He took out his wand. With his left hand he grabbed Derek’s chin to make sure he didn’t move. He uttered the spell and watched with fascination as hair slowly began to form back on Derek’s eyebrows. “So tempted to make you into a bushy caterpillar.”

“Don’t you dare. I will—”

Stiles met Derek’s eyes. He gave him an amused grin. “Rip my throat out with your teeth. Got it. You need a new line dude. I told Cora to teach you. She’s quite creative with her threats.”

Cora sent him a thank you wave.

Derek’s glare came back full force. Since it looked as menacing like usual, Stiles took that as the cue to stop with the spell.

It was at that moment all the werewolves cringed in pain and the humans jumped as Lydia began to scream. Stiles nearly fell off Derek’s lap, but Derek caught him by the waist. Stiles collapsed on Derek’s chest as Derek’s hands quickly went to cover his ears. Stiles slowly climbed off Derek’s lap and examined him for a brief moment before turning to Lydia.

Allison was already there. She didn’t know whether to shake her friend out of it, but Lydia’s wail only lasted a few more seconds. She snapped out of it with wide eyes and a gasp. She looked around the room, her eyes searching manically.

“Lydia?” Jackson asked, kneeling by his girlfriend.

Lydia pushed him away as she stood up. “I saw…” She trailed off and then ran out of the room. The pack turned to each other. A moment of hesitation passed before they all stood and chased after the strawberry blonde. They heard her heels on the cobblestone floor and followed it down to the sixth floor.

They all froze at what they found.

Against the wall, laid a body covered with his robes like a blanket. He looked to be sleeping, but there was no movement in his chest.

“Garrett?” Stiles stuttered, slowly stepping toward the seventh year Slytherin.

Scott grasped his friends arm. Stiles looked to his friend in confirmation. Scott nodded. Stiles felt his tongue get stuck to the roof of his mouth at the revelation.  

“Is he dead?” Allison asked softly.

The werewolves’ silence was answer enough.

“We need to get someone.” Derek spoke, taking charge. “Boyd, Erica, Isaac go find Deaton or Morrell now.”

The three Hufflepuffs nodded wordlessly, running down the hallway. Stiles felt his hands shake. He wanted to get closer to Garrett to see what had happened, but Scott had a firm grasp on him and Cora was threatening to sink her claws into his hand on his left.

Stiles had never communicated much with Garrett. He knew the older teen was incredibly bright and his father was a high ranking Ministry official. But other than that, Stiles knew nothing. But yet, he felt a strong emotional pull to help or do something as he continued to stare down the body.

A few minutes passed and Deaton and Morrell came down the corridor in a flir of robes behind them. Deaton’s breath caught as he took in the student. Morrell was the first to step toward the body.

“No.” Deaton stopped her from lifting the robe. “You could contaminate evidence. We’ll call aurors.”

Morrell nodded, leaving the scene.

“When did you find him?” Deaton asked.

“Just a few minutes ago.” Scott answered.

“It happened recently.” Lydia said, voice shaking. “I screamed and came here.”

“Did you see anything?”

Lydia shook her head. “I just felt like someone was dying and begging for their life. I didn’t get any vision.”

Deaton pondered the girl in silence for a while. He turned away.

“It’s best all you leave. The aurors will come and question how you found the body, it’s best they remain unaware that I am housing banshees and werewolves.”

The pack nodded and left just in time as they saw two Aurors turn the corridor.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Snowy slush slided down the windows as a small drizzle patted rhythmically outside. Stiles watched one bead of water cling to the window before finally tipping over the edge and falling down to Hogwarts grounds that were covered more as of late in brown colored mush than actual snow. Despite two days had passed since the incident of finding Garrett’s body, Stiles couldn’t get his mind off of it.

He remembered returning to the Slytherin common room and Blake calling a last minute meeting with the Slytherins. The Slytherins had found the meeting odd as Blake hardly ever organized one, but Stiles and Jackson already knew the reason for such a gathering.

When Blake announced Garrett's death, Stiles had shuddered at Violet’s scream echoing off the stone walls. He knew the two had been together for over three years and most likely going to get married if their commitment to one another said anything. The next day, all the seventh year Slytherins had been extremely quiet and solemn. They all had dressed in black and refused to speak for an entire day, honoring their fallen comrade.

“Hey can you help me?” Erica asked Stiles as they sat together in Transfiguration.

They were supposed to be practicing the Vanishing spell on snails and Stiles so far was the only one able to perform the task, since he had learned the spell back in his third year.

“Sure,” Stiles said, jumping out of his trance. He made Erica do the spell to see where she was going wrong.

“ _Evanesco._ ” Erica said, flicking her wand at the snail.

“Try not twisting your wrist so far,” Stiles took hold of the girl’s wrist, guiding it in the correct motion. “Try again.”

Erica did, the snail got slightly paler. Erica pouted.

“Better, just keep practicing.”

“It really isn’t fair that you are so good at Transfiguration.”

Stiles shrugged. “You’re better at me in Herbology and Defense now.”

Erica grinned. “Less thinking involved in the latter.” She tried again, but nothing. “Ugh. How are you two doing?”

Stiles leaned over Erica to get a better look at Boyd and Isaac. Boyd’s snail was a transparent color, but not completely vanished. Isaac’s snail was just staring back at him.

“You need help?” Stiles offered the taller teen.

Isaac scrunched his face. “No I’m good.”

“You’re not even trying.” Erica stated.

“I know.”

“Well here comes Blake you better at least pretend.” She muttered under her breath.

Blake caught the Hufflepuff’s lack of participation and marched over to them. “Is there a problem, Mr. Lahey?”

“Sort of.” Isaac spoke softly.

“Please enlighten me we don’t have all day.”

“Well, when you vanish the snail where does it go?”

“It disappears from existence.” Blake informed calmly.

“You mean it dies?” Isaac asked appalled, his voice grew higher. It caught the attention of Jackson sitting across the classroom. He sent Stiles a ‘what’s going on look’, Stiles returned it with an ‘I have no freaking clue.’

“It ceases to exist.” Blake corrected.

Stiles’ eyes scrunched. He could have swore that was not what the Transfiguration book said. He recalled the details and spoke up. “Vanished objects don’t cease to exist. They go into a state of non-being, which is to say everything.”

“What does that mean?” Erica asked.

“In that it disappears but not really. It’s almost like a relocation spell. If you vanish the snail it’s still alive but in a different location that makes up everything around us.”

Boyd explained to Erica in what Stiles assumed were muggle terms. “Just think of particles or molecules floating in the air, the spell takes them apart until the caster brings them back together again.”

“No it doesn’t.” Blake said with a forced smile. “It ceases to exist.”

Stiles squinted. “But by the rules of magic nothing ceases to exist.”

“Wrong.”

Stiles head turned. He fumbled inside his bag to look for his Transfiguration textbook. He found the passage and showed it to Blake as evidence.

“The book’s wrong.” She smiled calmly.

“The book can’t be wrong. It’s been peer reviewed by a dozen Transfiguration Masters before being published.” Stiles said matter of factly.

“I’m a Transfiguration Master and have been since the age of twenty and if I say its wrong. It’s wrong.”

“But,” Stiles interrupted, voice growing impatient. He noticed the rest of class had gone quiet. “You have no proof. It’s a proven fact that magic can’t destroy a being entirely. It can kill but not destroy. Destroying defies every law.” Stiles couldn’t believe he was having this irrational argument with his professor. Stiles knew he was right. Hell, half the class who did the reading knew he was right. But here he was having a conversation with Blake about something that wasn’t in any shape debatable.

Blake stood up straight and turned her attention on Isaac. “ _Evanesco._ ” Isaac gasped as the snail vanished from his desk. “You’re wrong, Mr. Stilinski.” She finished saying, before retreating to her desk and drinking from a vial she always carried with her.

Stiles groaned and merely waited for the remainder of class to end so he could go get something to eat.

Luckily, he only had to endure five more minutes. He quickly grabbed his things, and headed outside waiting for the others. The three Hufflepuffs emerged, not questioning his foul moud, and they walked their way to the Great Hall. The four paused, and he noticed Jackson up ahead with Danny did too.

The entire sixth floor was still closed off but for the first time they saw the aurors investigating the case. They were whispering back and forth to each other over a few papers that were out of sight to the teens.

“Can you hear them?” Stiles asked the werewolves.

Boyd nodded and began walking off back to the Great Hall. The others chased after him. “They think it was a werewolf,” Boyd said.

“What?”

“Found claw marks all over his abdomen.”

“But it can’t be. We know all the werewolves in the castle.” Isaac stated.

“It could be the twins for all we know.” Erica snarked, glaring at the twins up ahead. Stiles suddenly remembered Aiden’s odd behavior the night the message appeared over the Great Hall.

Everyone glanced over. “Well it’s not Ethan, I can vouch on that.” Cora announced coming up behind them, who had been eavesdropping into their conversation.

“How do you know?” Isaac asked, sitting at the Gryffindor table.

“Because.” Scott said, sitting next to his best friend. “Ethan has been trying to reconcile with Cora and me since the term started. He’s actually really serious about it. But Cora here keeps telling me not to accept his apologies.”

Cora shrugged. “Make him work for it you know. A sorry isn’t going to cut it for what they did.”

Cora had a very valid point. And this is why Stiles considered her a best friend. “Where’s Allison?” Stiles questioned, finding it odd that Scott was without his girlfriend. They hardly ever parted.

“With Lydia. They went to the library to go get a few Potion books.”

“Wow. When you asked her to tutor you in Potions she really took it seriously huh?” Stiles teased.

Scott groaned. “A little too seriously. She’s treating it like some kind of mission.”

“Well any tutoring sess with you is a mission.”

“Hey its the same with you in DADA. I hope you don’t think you are going to get by with just theory. Professor Argent isn’t accepting anything below an Exceeds Expectations for his class next year.”

Stiles groaned. “I’m trying.”

“Why can’t you tutor him?” Isaac asked, reaching for the chicken beside Cora.

“Scott sucks at tutoring.”

Scott blew a raspberry at his best friend, his anger dissipated quickly. “Wait. I can get Allison to help you. She’s a really good teacher. I’ve been getting better grades on the pop quizzes that Harris likes to give us.”

“Pass. If she teaches anything like she trains, I’ll be taking the OWLs test in a sling and cast.”

“Hope so.” Lydia interrupted. She squeezed in between Stiles and Erica. Allison dropped a few books on the table as she sat on her boyfriend’s left. She pecked him quickly on the lips.

“What do you mean hope so?” Stiles questioned the strawberry blonde, as he turned away from Scott’s mortified expression at the stack of books.

Lydia smirked, grabbing food daintly. “Eliminates the competition of who gets the most OWLs. I’ll be winning that.”

“You are aware there isn’t actually a competition for that, right?” Erica informed the girl.

Lydia snapped her head to the blonde, her hair slapping Stiles in the face. “Well there should be.”

Boyd leaned against the table so he was face to face with Lydia. “If there was one, everyone knows I’ll win.”

Lydia’s grin grew wider at the mention of a rival. “You’re on Vernon.” She teased, using his first name.

“You’re gonna have to get through a lot of people,” Cora added to Lydia. “Danny, Stiles, Jackson…”

Lydia took the time to talk smack about her boyfriend as he had decided to sit with Danny today. “Jackson doesn’t have anything on me although Danny might actually be a rival.” Lydia smiled when she saw Derek finally reach them and sit between his sister and Boyd. “How many OWLs did you get Derek?”

Derek’s eyes scrunched in confusion. “Does it matter? I passed what I needed to.”

Lydia rolled her eyes and then began to argue with Boyd over something in History of Magic, with Cora chiming in once in a while, and Erica groaning at their nerd talk. Scott, Isaac, and Allison were discussing the benefits of Bertie Bott’s Vomit Flavor as a cure to actual vomit, which was a conversation that Stiles would have normally joined with much gusto, but his attention focused on Derek.

Stiles was the only one who noticed something was wrong. He was brooding like usual, no one would have noticed the difference if they barely knew him, but Stiles was past that point with Derek. The older male had his jaw clenched tight and his hand was gripping his fork a little too strongly. Stiles frowned. He lightly tapped Derek’s foot under the table.

Derek looked up. Stiles wasn’t sure if he wanted to draw attention to Derek’s predicament so he hoped his look said it all.

_You ok?_

Derek’s eyes turned to his plate. Stiles thought Derek was going to ignore him, but then the Hufflepuff met his gaze again.

_Yeah...just worried._

Stiles tapped his foot against Derek’s as a silent, _Do you want to talk about it?_

Derek huffed, his fork stabbing at his boiled potatoes. _No._

Stiles sucked his lips into his mouth, nodding. _Ok then._

He turned back to the other’s conversation as Scott released a loud groan. “Another double date?” Allison asked Lydia. “Cause the last one turned out so well.”

“But it’s Valentine’s Day. And there is no impending doom over our heads this time.”

“We’re not actually super clear on that, you know dead body and all.” Isaac inputted unhelpfully. Stiles noticed Derek make a face of agreement. Ah, that’s what was worrying him.

“I don’t know, Lydia. I mean it’s supposed to rain during the weekend and…” Allison tried, sparing her boyfriend a glance for some help.

Stiles snorted. He knew the couple had already made plans for Valentine’s day coming up this Saturday. Scott had given him a very very detailed scheduled guide of his plan two night ago and here was Lydia Martin to ruin it all.

“C’mon Jackson’s up for it.” Lydia said.

Allison made a face. “Really?”

“Ok, I haven’t told him yet, but we all know he can’t tell me no.”

“He tells you no all the time,” Allison stated.

“He doesn’t really mean them. Plus, don’t tell him I told you, but Jackson’s a secret romantic. He loves double dates.”

Scott and Allison shared a meaningful look. The pair sighed. “Ok.” Allison finally said.

“While you two have your fun date.” Stiles turned his grin on the others. “Who wants to have their own single nights with me? I’m thinking of lots of booze.”

“Can’t.” Isaac said. “I have a date.”

“Who?” Scott questioned with a grin.

Erica rolled her eyes as she answered for Isaac. “Heather Merlott.”

“Are we going to have this conversation again?” Isaac nearly growled.

Erica put on her best bitch face. “I just don’t think you should hang out with her.”

Isaac’s eyes narrowed as the pair began to argue over the others. “Just because she doesn’t think too highly of you.”

“It’s not that. I just think she doesn’t have the best intentions…”

“If you're talking about sex...”

“Ew. No I meant Quidditch. You’re both Beaters. What if she just wants to distract you?”

Isaac rolled his eyes. “You need to sort out your priorities.”

Erica sent him a sarcastic smile.

Stiles tried to reel the conversation back into safer territory. “Ok so the rest of us?”

“Can’t.” Cora spoke as well. “I have a date too.”

Derek stopped everything to look at his sister. “Who?”

Stiles snorted at Derek’s protectiveness.

“Not telling.”

Derek dropped his fork to the table. “Who.”

“If I tell you, I know you will go threaten them. I’m not going to have a brother who is overprotective of me.”

Derek scoffed. “I wouldn’t threaten them, I would warn them about you.” Derek sent a playful smirk in Stiles’ direction. It was so out of character of Derek and such a stark contrast from Derek’s previous mood that Stiles couldn’t help but laugh.

Cora did not find it so amusing and merely finished off the last of her plate. “Still not telling. And if you try to follow me I can promise, you will wake in the Forbidden Forest wondering what happened.” She smiled maliciously at everyone, especially her brother. “A vague disclaimer is nobody’s friend.”

Derek’s eyes narrowed. He turned to Erica. “You know who it is don’t you?”

“Yup.” She popped her lips. “Best friend privileges and all that.”

Stiles sent an accusatory glance at Cora. “I thought I was your best friend.”

“You are too, Stiles; don’t worry, but you would tell Derek.”

“Yeah you’re probably right. Ok so us four?” He turned to Derek, Erica, and Boyd. “Saturday? Hog’s Head?”

The other four shrugged in agreement.

 

|~~***~~|

 

The sky stretched out like a gray cat. The constant pitter patter of splattering rain fell upon the inhabitants of Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. Surprisingly the gloomy atmosphere, did not deter the villagers and students, they merely ran for cover under shop awnings or pulled out brightly colored umbrellas.

Stiles hummed as he looked outside while he sipped some warm butterbeer. He glanced at a couple, sharing an umbrella. The male accidentally stepped in a large puddle, tripped, and took his date down with him. The pair giggled as they tried to get back on their feet. His attention then fell upon Matt and Aiden speaking to Violet under the awning of the Potions shop. Poor Violet, Stiles thought as he watched her converse without any of her usual snark. Matt walked away from them and left Aiden alone with Violet. Stiles turned away and looked to his own friends. The only one’s unable to get a date, how sad was that.

Although, knowing that Erica had a huge crush on Boyd, kind of made Stiles uncomfortable. He should have thought this outing more thoroughly. He wondered if Boyd knew about Erica and just didn’t return the feelings or he was that oblivious to it. Erica was being kind of obvious the way she kept sneaking glances at him.

“So what do you want to do after?” Stiles asked the others. “Honeydukes?”

Derek sipped at his alcoholic drink. Stiles tried to get a sip, but Derek next to him, kicked him roughly under the table each time he made a grab for it. Stupid Prefects respecting Prefect Duties...

Boyd shrugged. “Probably won’t be able to get through the shop. Couples are flying everywhere.”

Stiles smirked at Erica. “I’m sure you two can get through and get us a few treats.”

Erica kicked him under the table, glaring across the table at him. “Nah. Zonko’s? Should be empty.” She said venomously.

Stiles glanced at Derek, hoping the other would play along. “I don’t know. I’m really craving some licorice wands right now, you know Jackson stole my last box.”

Derek rolled his eyes, but surprisingly… “I wouldn’t mind some cauldron cakes.”

Stiles grinned. So apparently, Derek had noticed too.

Boyd looked at Derek first, Derek sent him a questioning look. Boyd grinned with a face that screamed I know something you don’t, although Stiles didn’t know what that could be. Boyd quickly changed his expression to look at the blonde. “I don’t mind going. Want to?” He asked Erica.

The blonde reverted to her old self, shyly glancing at her friends. With an encouraging nod from Stiles, Erica got the courage and stood up with Boyd, the two heading out to face the rain and most likely the overcrowded candy shop.

When they left, Stiles leaned back in his chair. “So you noticed too?”

“I had a feeling.” Derek commented.

“Do you think Boyd knows?”

“Who knows.” Derek glanced around the room, sipping from his drink. Stiles was transfixed as Derek downed half the pitcher, his adam’s apple bobbing. Stiles coughed, flushing, and not sure why.

“Um...” Stiles stammered. “How do you think Cora’s doing on her date?”

“Trying not think about it. Although I did ask Isaac to stalk her while he’s on his date.”

“And?”

“Isaac said he would rather battle a basilisk then get caught trying to follow her.”

“I can see why. I wonder what kind of guy is brave enough to date her.”

“Or girl, not really sure yet.” Derek said, leaning back in his chair.

“Girl? Did I hear that right?”

“I still don’t know if Cora is into girls or guys. She hasn’t told Laura anything, I thought she would tell me if anything was up.”

Stiles tried to process this information. “Why would she go to you over Laura? Aren’t they closer?”

“On some levels.” Derek swallowed a lot of saliva and then began to awkwardly play with his empty pitcher. Stiles followed the movement of Derek’s fingers. That was odd, he had never seen an awkward Derek before. “But I thought she would relate or something…”

“...Or something.” Was Derek trying to… “Are you um…” Stiles found himself getting flustered again, unable to say the word. Merlin, Danny was gay and he had no trouble acknowledging it about his roommate so why was he finding this difficult to grasp?

“Gay? No.” Derek said with a grin.

Stiles chuckled nervously. “You little shit. You almost made me—”

“I’m pansexual.” The grin did not fall.

Stiles stopped. “You’re into...pans?” What the hell was pansexual? It sounded like a made up word. He played along with Derek’s poor excuse for humor. “You know that actually makes sense. They’re hard and stone faced. Give little emotion. It’s a perfect match in heaven.”

Derek gave him a deadpanned look that Stiles had come to realize was ‘you’re an idiot’ face. “What?”

“Nothing.” Derek muttered sarcastically and then leaned back in his chair again, taking in the pub. Stiles did as well and he noticed what caught Derek’s attention. It was ridiculous how many people were in Hog’s Head. And more ridiculous how many couples were here. What the hell? Were Derek and he the only ones without actual dates in the entire castle?

“C’mon.” Derek muttered, nudging him. Derek stood up, placing a tip on the table.

“What?” Stiles questioned, but standing up anyway.

“It’s stuffy in here.” Derek remarked.

“Oh right.” Derek probably didn’t want to be smelling arousal in such a cramped space.

The two left the Hog’s Head, stood under the awning wondering which way to go. “Shrieking Shack?” Stiles suggested.

The Hufflepuff gave him a strange look. “It’s raining.”

“And?” Stiles smiled, already taking off.

Neither of them had umbrellas so they got soaked rather quickly, even before they made it to the clearing. Stiles put up his red hoodie as he splashed against the puddles. Derek wordlessly walked beside him. The two made it to the gate of the Shrieking Shack, kneeling against it. Stiles sighed. The Shrieking Shack looked more imposing and haunting in the rain.

“I never got to thank you before.” Derek said softly after five minutes of silence.

“For what?”

“A lot of things.”

Stiles nodded, humming. “Don’t mention it.” Stiles paused. “My mom used to tell me that you should always try to take the load off people’s shoulders whenever you can.” Stiles gave a melancholy smile. He hadn’t spoken of his mother so intimately before to someone outside of Scott.

“My parents used to say something similar to that.” Derek spoke. “Mom used to say what’s the point of having werewolf strength if you weren’t going to use it to help carry the weight of others.” Derek’s face fell, water droplets clinged to his short hair, falling onto his forehead. “Haven’t been doing a good job of it if I think about it.”

Stiles bumped his shoulder as he saw that Derek’s mood was starting to drop. “You’ve done a lot for your pack Derek, you’ve done a lot for me.”

Derek’s head faced him so Stiles did as well. Stiles gulped as he took in Derek’s full appearance. His leather jacket shielded him from the rain, but it wasn’t zipped all the way so Stiles could see Derek’s black undershirt peeking at the top through his white long sleeved shirt, but strangely enough, it was his eyes and lips and Derek’s breathing that caught Stiles’ gaze. Stiles felt a jumble of confused feelings.

Their eyes meet and Stiles couldn’t pull himself away from them, until Derek blinked and broke the spell. Stiles lowered his head in embarrassment as he realized that Derek wanted further explanation.

“Um. If it wasn’t for you,” Stiles fumbled with his hands that were turning pruny. “I would still be an asshole against werewolves.”

“I thought Scott and Cora who were the one who changed your opinion.”

“They were but you had the most impact. When the centaurs shot you with a wolfsbane arrow and you knocked out and I stupidly punched you, you took the pain from my hand. You didn’t have to.”

“You saved me.” Derek said as if that settled it.

“No. A normal person would have worried about themselves first. You hadn’t even been a full minute awake and you were just leeching off pain from me when you were still obviously in it. Made me think differently of you and other werewolves.”

Derek’s head lowered in embarrassment as well, Stiles swore he could see his cheeks piken even through the rain.

But then Stiles of course broke the moment by sneezing. He then shivered. Despite the fact, that the sweater was keeping him warm against the rain. Derek had not charmed the sweater to repel rain so he was literally just a warm wet rag. Not a good combination.

Derek smiled softly. “C’mon let’s head back to the castle.”

They walked back inside, the castle dark and dim from the lack of lighting outside. Together they dripped water all over the main entrance. Stiles pulled out his wand, pointing it at Derek’s first to dry him. He paused when he noticed Derek had his own wand out. “Uhh…” Stiles trailed, trying not to laugh.

Derek rolled his eyes and cast the spell on Stiles. Stiles chuckled and did the same spell on Derek.

Derek’s clothes unstuck themselves from his body and his hair sprung back to life. Color returned to his cheeks, though he still gave a shudder. Derek was strangely attractive in the darkness. Stiles had heard from the boys in the Slytherin dorm that girls looked so much prettier in dim lighting. It hid the imperfections, they said. But he couldn’t exactly recall what imperfections Derek had as he stood there, the darkness waxing him handsomely.

He took a moment to wonder where these thoughts had come from and whether he should be thinking these thoughts in the first place. Ok, so maybe he found Derek attractive. But Derek was a boy. Was that normal? Did that make him gay? No...he still liked girls that was certain. So what in Merlin was he thinking?

“Stiles?!” Derek nearly shouted.

Stiles jumped. “Yeah?”

“I asked if you wanted to get something to eat?”

Stiles checked the time on his Batman watch. “House elves just finished serving food an hour ago.”

“I know, c’mon. We can go get something in the kitchens.”

 

|~~***~~|

 

“Is Mr. Hale finding his food satisfactory?” A house elf asked.

Derek smiled kindly, throwing Stiles off balance. “It’s perfect.”

“You know,” Stiles remarked, biting into his bread as the two sat together on the floor with a blanket spread under them in a corner of the kitchens. “Your sister did that same creepy thing with the elves when we came down here last year.”

“What thing?”

“ _Smiling._ ”

Derek glared at him full frontal. Stiles laughed loudly, unable to take the glare seriously when Derek had a piece of potato stuck to the side of his face. “Dude. Merlin. _I can’t...your face._ ”

Derek only picked up a napkin and wiped the side of his face to get it off. “You’re a child.”

“I’m a child?” Stiles snorted. “Says the guy who glares at anyone who pokes the slightest joke at him.” Stiles laughed again as Derek fought the urge to glare at his statement. “Oh c’mon don’t be such a sourwolf.”

“Are we really resorting to names?”

“I could call you Der-Bear.”

Derek picked up the garlic bread between them and flung a piece at him. Stiles caught the piece in his mouth grinning. Derek released a chuckle without meaning to. Stiles grin widened. His arms shot into the air in triumph. “Ah, it laughs at last.”

“I have the capacity to, you know.”

“Really? But you never laugh at my jokes or pranks.”

“You’re jokes and pranks aren’t as funny as you may think.”

Stiles gasped. “How dare you? I’m the prank king of Hogwarts!”

“I doubt that.”

“I am. I knighted your sister into pranksterhood. You can’t knight someone without being a king.”

Derek shook his head. “Oh sorry then. Forgive me, my lord.” He muttered in distaste, but Stiles knew he was joking.

“You are forgiven, plebeian. Although, if you ever want to join…”

“I’m a prefect.”

“So is Cora.”

“She’s not the most responsible prefect.”

“And you are?”

“More responsible than her.”

“Why do you take your duties so seriously anyway?”

Derek shrugged, picking at his bread and dipping it in his soup. “It’s something to do.”

“Or my hypothesis is that you secretly like the be in control.”

“Possibly. But it’s actually something I do like doing. I have extra time anyway since I’m not taking Potions.”

“I always forget you didn’t pass that one.”

“It’s not the end of the world. I’m not planning on entering any careers that involve Potions anyway.”

“What are you?”

“Huh?”

“What career do you want to do?”

“I haven’t put much thought in it. What about you?”

Stiles shrugged. “Not sure either. Everyone assumes I want to be an auror though.”

“Do you?”

“Not really. I mean I would probably kick ass as an auror, because look at me, but it doesn’t feel like me. But it doesn’t mean that I want to fail the DADA portion for OWLs.”

Derek’s gaze drifted away from him, shyly glancing back at his food. “I can help you...if you want.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Oh crap thanks dude! Hopefully you’re better at explaining than Scott.”

“I can promise I’ll do my best.”

Stiles smiled but suddenly jumped toward Derek in concern as the older teen hissed and brought his hands to his ears. “Are you ok? What’s going on?”

“Lydia,” Derek grit through his teeth.

The two left everything unattended in the kitchens and ran through the corridors to find the girl. They found the strawberry blonde being pulled back by Jackson as they found a body leaning against one of the darker corners of the castle.

Stiles stepped close and saw Violet’s dead body.

“Oh Merlin...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop new chapter!
> 
> Well school is starting, so I'm not sure when I will be uploading again. This semester is an easier workload than my last semester which is good, but I also have work. So we'll see how this goes. But I hope you enjoy this long chapter.
> 
> Tell me all your feels on the Sterek? The deaths? What color would you have turned into if Stiles' charmed your shower?
> 
> Follow me on [TUMBLR](http://twinklingpaopufruit.tumblr.com/)for updates on how I'm doing on my story or if you just want to chat.


	32. The Derek Fucking Hale Crisis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pack stumbles across another crime scene. The Aurors are not happy about that. Meanwhile Stiles has a crisis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sexual content in this chapter.

Murmurs invaded every conversation in the castle as students gossiped endlessly on what had occurred on Valentine’s Day. The whispers took a different turn as the students walked hesitantly into the Great Hall the following day. All the magic had been snuffed out: tables bare and enchanted ceiling gone. Everything that brought life into the castle just didn’t exist, it was as if the castle was mourning death as well.

Stiles made way to the Gryffindor Table.

“Please sit with your house today, Mr. Stilinski.” Blake ordered, stopping him. Stiles watched her direct other members of her house to their proper area.

Stiles for once obeyed authority. He sat next to Danny and across from Jackson. Danny leaned close. “I saw your dad a few minutes ago.”

His heart stuttered and then skyrocketed quickly. “What?”

Jackson, who was resting his chin on his fists, spoke. “The aurors are here.” He offered as explanation. The eery pureblood voice that Stiles knew Jackson used as a way to calm himself, didn’t help Stiles.

His eyes fell to the owl podium as Deaton stepped forward. For once, the students shushed themselves without prompting, eager to know what was happening inside their school’s walls. It was then Stiles noticed from the door at the front of the Great Hall open. From it, emerged his father, Jackson’s uncle, and Auror Parrish. _No._

Deaton’s face was passive as ever as his voice boomed in the hall. “As I am sure most of you are aware, Garrett Dye and Violet Logan, seventh year Slytherins, have passed away. Hogwarts, at the request of the Ministry of Magic, will until further notice, station aurors across the castle. Hogwarts will also play host to the Dementors of Azkaban. The dementors will be stationed at the entrances to the grounds. While they are under strict orders not to enter the castle itself, you will on occasion see them as you go about your daily activities.” Deaton paused. Stiles could tell Deaton was not happy that the dementors were to guard the school. “And while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks, disguises, disillusionment charms—and have the uncanny ability to track by scent,” Deaton added blandly, Jackson and Stiles glanced at each other. “It is not in the nature of a dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the dementors.”

Stiles met Jackson’s eyes again. Both were more than aware that if the aurors found the need to take drastic measures by bringing dementors then these murders were highly serious. Their eyes drew back to the adults as Stiles’ father stepped forward.

“To ensure the safety of all Hogwarts students.” John began. “All students will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher or an auror. No exceptions. Prefects and Head Students will resign from doing rounds and duties will be restricted to daylight activities. All clubs from here on out be cancelled.”

Several students shouted their anger. Stiles was impressed with his father as he kept a neutral face at the obscenities thrown his way.

“What? You can’t cancel Quidditch!” Stiles heard Erica shout from the Hufflepuff table.

John sighed. “Quidditch will still continue. Captains will inform aurors of Quidditch practices to escort them to the field to provide supervision and will be escorted back into the castle.” The Quidditch fanatics seemed to calm with his statement. Stiles knew his father had made this choice deliberately. Quidditch was the life force of Hogwarts, take that away and the students would have nothing. “Also students will return to their house common rooms by six o’clock in the evening.”

Stiles guffawed with the students’ priorities. Curfew of course was worse than canceling clubs and stationing soul sucking creatures across Hogwarts.

John’s face fell slightly. “I am required to inform you, unless the culprit is caught, it is likely that the school will be closed.” With that John made a few closing remarks and returned to his other aurors.

Food appeared in front of all the students but several of them felt uneasy at eating. It was Aiden next to Jackson that leaned in close. “They can’t close Hogwarts. Where would my brother and I go?”

Stiles stared at the open worry in Aiden’s face. He sometimes forgot that Aiden and Ethan didn’t have a home. They had spent their holiday break alone in a dark castle. It was that thought that made Stiles reconsider placing blame on Aiden.

Stiles tried to console him. “As long as Deaton and the aurors are here. Hogwarts will be. Don’t worry.”

Aiden didn’t seem convinced and part of Stiles wasn’t either.

 

|~~***~~|

 

The rest of the week every student attempted to go on with their normal lives. It was obviously very difficult. They were constantly being watched as precaution but Stiles also felt as if they were being observed like prisoners. He remembered Deaton mentioning that they thought it was a student so the comparison might not have been that far off. So far they were walked to every single class as ordered, Quidditch practice was stiff with the aurors watching, but still everyone tried to feign normalcy.

The only place where the students could feel like themselves and not worry was in the common room. It was cramped and rowdy, but it kept the worry of a serial killer on the loose far way.

But Stiles was never like normal students.

Hanging out with friends was not providing enough of a distraction. And the need for a distraction had nothing to do with what was going on inside Hogwarts, even though he knew he should be focusing on it. But this was more important. _It was!_

For the past week he had been waking up in a cold sweat. He sort of wished he could say they were from nightmares about the night of the ritual back in December, but even those nightmares had slowly been dwindling as of late. These midnight wakings had more to do with an increased heart rate, sweat, and a raging erection that wouldn’t go down.

Stiles was not a newbie to any sexual dream, after all, he was a healthy fifteen year old boy. His usual route was to place a silencing spell and get to work. However, Stiles felt a strange worry in his gut that kept him from reaching to his dick. He usually spent his nights of late glaring at his cock in disdain.

His “normal” dreams had always been soft curves, voluptuous breast, high pitched whines and moans, but these were much different. They always started with a warm body caressing his body, the other person being ambiguous in every sense, but as the dream went on, Stiles could feel the body turn into hard muscles under his fingertips, a heavy weight pushing him onto his bed, his legs spreading and coming up to wrap around a muscular waist…

Stiles trailed off, shaking his head. _No._ Wait. Stiles could rationalize his way through this.

Ok. Breathe. Think.

He tried to recount all the times he had thought of a guy in sexual way, frankly the list came easily to him:  that cute Quidditch player who played for Spain, the main singer of the Felix Felicis Fellers, Auror Parish, sixth year slytherin Brett Talbot, Jackson on several weird occasions...Der— He stopped there.

He hadn’t realized he was checking out other boys before. Had the people he knew noticed?

He was a little scared about it, but there was also this strange thrill, because it provided a puzzle for Stiles that involved only one way to solve. And it was always his favorite way to solve puzzles.

Experiment.

Although, he wasn’t sure if he was ballsy enough to actually go up to another male and start macking on him to see if he was really sexually attracted to boys...but there was another way, which was the reason he was pacing around the empty dormitory room.

After a full five minutes, he decided to throw caution to the wind and bustle over to Danny’s bed.

Stiles was well aware that his roommates kept a healthy collection of magazines around the room. He might have accidentally ran into Aiden’s and Jackson’s a few times while he was snooping around last semester to find incriminating evidence on the raging douche wads, but Danny was another matter. He checked under the mattress first.

But there was nothing. He checked in between the bed posts. But still nothing.

“C’mon Danny, boy. I know you do the old swish and flick…” Stiles whispered, looking under the bed. But yet again, nothing. Where the hell did he keep them? He knew for a fact Danny wasn’t celibate. Slytherins never were.

Stiles’ eyes turned to Danny’s trunk. He immediately went to it and pulled out his wand to unlock the trunk. As soon as the click rang around the room, the trunk popped open and all that was unholy decided to throw a gray sweater at him. It flew out of the trunk and it’s sleeves came to life to wrap themselves around Stiles’ neck.

Stiles fell backwards, hitting his head on the furnace. He gasped for breath, trying to claw the sweater off.

The door opened. There was a sigh and then a mutter of a spell. The sweater fell harmlessly on Stiles’ chest. He unwrung the devil sweater from his neck and threw it back in Danny’s trunk.

“You tried to break into my trunk,” Danny said, not feeling particularly surprised.

“I was frustrated,” said Stiles, not sounding particularly guilty either.

Danny sighed.

“You know.” Stiles groaned, rubbing his neck. “Normal people don’t curse their trunks to fire evil sweaters at people who innocently try to pick at a lock.”

“You didn’t have to try and pick the lock.”

“Well, clearly you knew someone would. You cursed it to attack anybody who tried.”

Danny shook his head and walked over to his trunk. “That’s not what I meant. The lid was unlocked. Only people with ill intentions would assume it was locked and try to pick it.”

Stiles gaped at Danny’s evil genius.

Danny didn’t seem amused though. “What were you looking for anyway?”

Stiles blushed. “Uh…”

Danny’s arms crossed over his chest. “You better have a good excuse for going through my things.”

Stiles looked up at Danny like he held his entire life. “I will prefer what ever punishment you might dole out instead of telling you now.”

Danny raised a brow. “Really? Wow it must be good. Guess who's not leaving this room without telling me now.” He locked the door with his wand and gracefully landed on his bed.

“Crap.”

“Yup.”

Stiles thought of the best way to lie, but he couldn’t lie to Danny. Everybody loved Danny. He stood up to sit on Danny’s bed. “Pornmagazines.”

“What? What was that?” Danny laughed, obviously knowing what Stiles said.

Stiles huffed, now deeply questioning why people loved Danny. He was obviously evil. “You are not going to let me go are you?”

“Nope.”

“Fine. If you happen to want to know, and it’s not that embarrassing, it’s completely normal, I was looking for porn magazines.”

“Why not just go through the other guys? I don’t think mine would be of any interest to you.”

Stiles coughed. “BecauseIthinkImightlikeguys.”

Danny’s smile dropped; he sat up. “Seriously?”

“I don’t know. I was trying to figure that out. Can we talk about it?”

Danny glared. “No.”

“Why?”

“I’m not going to be your sexual orientation crisis counselor just cause I’m gay. Why not talk to Scott or Cora? They’re your best friends.”

Stiles rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know how to tell them. And why can’t I come to you?”

Danny fell against his pillows once more. “Because everyone treats me like the gay kid at Hogwarts.”

“That’s not true.”

“Whatever.” Danny stretched behind himself and from under his pillow pulled out a magazine. He threw it at Stiles without any kindness. Stiles caught it awkwardly, nearly falling off the bed. “You can have it.”

“Uhh..thanks..” Stiles muttered. He looked away from the magazine and to Danny who wasn’t even looking at him. He felt bad for putting Danny in such a bad mood.

“You know I consider you a slimy Slytherin just like the others right?”

Danny smirked half heartedly. “Yeah, I know. Just gets to me a bit sometimes.” He then grinned wider. “Hope that helps clears things up about your huge crush on Derek.”

Stiles spluttered. “What?”

“Oh c’mon. It’s so obvious.”

“I don’t have a crush on Derek. He’s just my friend.” Stiles snorted, but he could feel the flush climbing up his cheeks.

Which finally brought up why this matter was way more important than a serial killer at Hogwarts.

Danny laughed. “Try saying that without a gay porn mag in your hand.”

“It’s just…” He licked his lips. “Ok maybe I find him somewhat attractive but that doesn’t mean I like him. I mean you must find other guys attractive without finding romantic attachment right?”

“Yeah but the first guy I found attractive made me realize I was gay... Are you?”

“I don’t think so...I mean I still like girls.”

Danny nodded. “So you’re probably bi or pan.”

“Pan? Pansexual? What is that? Derek mentioned it.”

“It means a person who is attracted to all genders.”

“All genders. What does that mean?”

“Well there are more than just boys and girls.” When Danny saw the look of confusion, he added, “Um...the guitarist from that American Band the Bent Snitches, you’ve read the articles on them right. The guitarist identifies as non binary and just wishes for people to call them with they pronouns.”

“Oh.” Stiles put that information together. “So attracted to people?”

“It can get a little more complicated than that, but that’s the general sense.But back on subject. You totally like Derek. It’s so obvious.”

Stiles looked to Danny with apprehension.“Is it really?”

“Well, I’m a little more observant than others. I doubt any of your friends have even noticed anything. And I just happened to notice you two went on a little date on Valentine’s Day.”

“We did not go on a date.”

Danny quirked a brow and when Stiles thought it over, ok so maybe it was sort of like a date. “Don’t tell anyone.” Stiles threatened, but it wasn’t very aggressive as Stiles didn’t know how to give cautionary warnings to anyone who wasn’t pack.

Danny snorted. “Who do you take me for?”

“Someone who likes to watch other people’s pain.”

“You know Jackson, Lydia, and you are the only one’s who have ever figured that out about me.” Danny stood up. “Tell me if the mag does anything for you.” And with that Danny left with a wink.

Stiles was left standing in the middle of the common room. With a gay porn mag. In his hand. Oh Salazar help him, he hadn’t felt embarrassment like this in years. Ok. He took rapid breaths. He could do this. He went over to the door placing several locking charms, although judging from Danny’s wink, he was going to keep the others gone for a while.

Ok. Stiles was going to do this. He was going to do this.

He went over to his bed and pulled the curtains and cast a silencing charm from habit more than anything. He rubbed his sweaty palms on his thighs for a moment, then got comfortable on the bed.

He opened the magazine.

Stiles expected the worst most exaggerated pictures, but he noticed Danny had given him a rather tame one, which he was grateful for. The first picture was of a man wearing a Quidditch uniform. The man was most likely in his early twenties and to put it frankly the man was downright hot. Stiles had no qualms about admitting that. He had light brown hair that was pulled back by a pair of seeker goggles resting at the top of his head to reveal beautiful dark brown eyes. His Quidditch uniform was highlighting his perfect muscles and Stiles wouldn’t doubt that his stomach held a six pack.

He turned the page. The next spread was the same man but this time without a shirt proving true to Stiles’ prediction. He was riding back and forth across the pitch on his broom, and sending flirtatious glances at Stiles. Stiles gulped, feeling warmth pool at his gut.

He flipped the page again. It was the same man, only wearing tight black underwear. The scene had changed and he was in what appeared to be a Quidditch locker room. He was sitting on the floor, his back to the tall lockers as he spread his legs and stroked his nipples slowly.

Stiles stared at the picture curiously. He hadn’t explored that part of his anatomy. Stiles naturally grew curious. He lifted his shirt, feeling up his torso slowly. His middle finger circled the nub and then pulled it as the man did in the magazine. Stiles gasped and he quickly felt himself grow hard in his trousers. Ok. Yeah this was something he truly enjoyed. He did it again as he turned the page.

The man had removed his underwear and had a strategically placed Quaffle between his legs. His hand was moving behind the Quaffle and it didn’t take much guessing to know what he was doing. He flipped the page eager to see more.

The man was stretched out on the locker bench and the picture they had taken gave a perfect view as the man stroked his cock furiously. He was panting, his mouth opening in a silent moan.

Stiles thought he would find this weird, but really, he hadn’t been more turned on his life. The magazines that had girls were just as attractive as the man here but Stiles always found their faces a little too exaggerated for his liking. Here the man thoroughly looked like he was enjoying himself.

Stiles placed the magazine on the side as he unbuttoned his pants. His hand immediately went to his cock.

He began to fantasize about the other man. He pictured both of them in the Slytherin Locker Room alone after an intense practice.

The man grabbed him by his belt loops roughly. Stiles would have fallen if weren’t for the strong grip at his hip. A hand slowly traced down his sternum to the top his pants. The blonde Quidditch player unbuttoned his pants and then roughly slammed him against his locker. Stiles gasped, his breath quickening.

The man then pressed them together as he took out Stiles hard cock from his pants. He stroked just the way Stiles liked it, long drawn out strokes with a twist at the head. The man then took him by surprise and laid him down on the bench to remove his pants so he was only left with a hiked up shirt. The Quidditch player removed all his clothes and then laid on top of Stiles, rubbing their erections together.

Stiles groaned.

He splayed his hands on the man’s back, tracing the swirling blue and black triskelion tattoo under his fingertips.

The man seemed to like the motion because he was now scraping his dark stubble along his neck. The man’s mouth trailed up his neck to the side of his jaw and then to his mouth. Stiles moaned into the kiss, wrapping his naked legs around the man’s strong waist, begging for more.

The man pulled back.

Stiles gasped.

The man was no longer the man from the porn magazine. The man had dark black hair, thick eyebrows and a strong jaw, eyes that were an impossible color of blues and greens that were blown wide, and a mouth with thick lips that were panting for breath.

Stiles recognized that face perfectly. Derek. More specifically it was the same face that Stiles remembered Derek having when Derek had to scent him at the beginning of the semester. The memory of that was enough to set Stiles off. He arched his back and tipped his head to the side to bite into his pillow as he orgasmed.

He gasped.

Well that settled it. Bisexual crisis averted. Bi. He could live with that despite if Stiles stopped to think about it he realized he had been procrastinating his sexual orientation for over a year. It was the fact that it was a Derek Fucking Hale Crisis that was going to turn everything upside down.

He couldn’t possibly like Derek.

The man was an asshole (sweet in a convoluted way), completely closed off (so goddamn open to every single emotion), stupid (so intelligent), unhelpful (so willing to sacrifice so much for his friends), unfunny (strangest sense of humor)...

“Oh crap.” Stiles sighed.

He slapped his forehead in frustration but then retched when he forgot he had just jizzed all over his hand. “Great.” He got up and pulled up his pants, heading for the shower. He shed his clothes all over the bathroom floor and pulled open the shower curtain to one of the shower stalls. He stepped in once the water was warm enough.

“So I like Derek? I like Derek. I have feelings for Derek Hale.” He changed the sentence structure several times to get the idea stuck on his head. “I have an emotional attachment to the sourwolf.”

He didn’t know how he was going to get through this. Derek Hale was never going to like him in the same way. He might be pansexual, but he doubted he was on the list of people that Derek liked. Derek probably fell for the glaring, equally as brooding, non-flailing type, which if Stiles recalled, he wasn’t any of those.

He slammed his head against the tiles. How was this even happening to him? Because he was Stiles Stilinski that’s why. Stiles looked down at his toes by the shower drain. He just had to get over his feelings, right? Well, this year was going to be fun.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Derek watched as red and yellow blurs flew overhead. The sky had remained in a hazy gray for about a week. The weather was perfect despite a slight chill and breeze rolling by for a Quidditch game. The Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs were playing equally strong.

Derek tried to shrug away from Allison and Lydia who were loudly screaming for both teams. However, as he flinched away from them he brushed against Stiles sitting right next to him. He gulped. He decided high pitched squeals that pierced his sensitive ear drums were better than the latter so he leaned back into the the girls, his claws discreetly digging under the bench.

He didn’t know how to react around Stiles anymore.

He was still embarrassed on what had occurred on Valentine’s day. He didn’t expect Boyd and Erica to leave them alone but then one thing led to another and Derek decided to take Stiles on an impromptu lunch date in the kitchens. He doubted the other even knew it was a date. He was too busy being Stiles. But Derek wanted to see if he truly liked Stiles and that entire day just proved it. His plan to avoid any feelings toward the dotted boy were failing epically.  

He lamented that Stiles would never feel anything for him. Looking back on past occurrences he could easily piece together that Stiles was as straight as a broom. Plus, even on the off chance Stiles did like him, it would never work out.

Derek sneaked a glance at Stiles. He had told Derek before the game started that he didn’t know who to cheer for and just decided to choose both. Derek watched Stiles cast up spells that had lions roaring in the air and badgers shoving their snouts in the air to growl. It was a beautiful spectacle of light work that illuminated Stiles’ face perfectly.

Derek flinched when he heard Jackson shouting like a maniac behind him.

“C’mon Isaac! Knock Scott off his broom!”

Derek spared a glance at Jackson. He was decked out in yellow paint with a badger beanie sitting on his head. He was cheering for Hufflepuff for the obvious reason he didn’t want Gryffindor to win, but everyone knew he was showing support to reciprocate what Erica had done.

His attention drew back to the game as he heard a crack. Isaac threw the bludger perfectly to splinter Scott’s broom. The handle broke in two and Scott struggled to fly safely down. Finstock called time out.

Derek made a mental note to remind Isaac to use his werewolf powers minimally. He obviously didn’t miss the yellow eyes that Isaac had shown with a wide smirk.

Scott flew back into the game with a new broom and resumed the game. Derek looked for his sister. He found her flying near one of the podiums. Derek didn’t miss the auror observing all around the pitch. There were four aurors from what Derek could see. He would bet that there were more inside the castle. The aurors had been vigilant in their search for the killer especially after what happened on Valentine’s Day.

The bench creaked as Stiles and Lydia on either side of him stood up as Erica had seen the snitch first. Cora immediately went to follow the blonde.

Despite that Erica was proving to be a fantastic Seeker with her sharp eyes, Cora was still superior as she was the faster flyer of the two even without using her werewolf abilities. It only took her a few seconds to catch up and grasp the snitch before Erica.

Jackson groaned loudly behind him going over point scores with Boyd. Lydia, Allison, and Stiles screamed like a collection of mandrakes.

It took the stadium a while to calm down and clear out of the stadium. Derek went with Allison and Stiles toward the Gryffindor locker rooms to wait for Scott and Cora.

The two came out with broad grins.

Allison went quickly over to her boyfriend giving him a celebratory kiss. The kiss obviously turned heated since the couple rarely kept their hands off each other. Cora and Stiles made gagging noises beside the pair.   
Scott shoved at his best friend when he pulled himself off Allison. The best friend duo laughed and gave each other congratulatory hugs.

The rest of the pack met them shortly after. Erica congratulated her best friend despite losing. The pack wanted to stay and chat a bit more but the aurors and staff were already ushering students to head back to the castle. The students groaned in distaste but many followed.

The pack began to slowly head back but paused when Lydia froze.

“Lydia?” Allison asked. “You ok?”

Lydia shook her head minutely, holding her head up high. “I can feel it. A pull wanting to take me out of my body.”

“What do you mean?”

“Someone’s dying at this moment.”

“In the castle?”

Lydia shook her head and then she balled her fists as she spoke to herself. “No. I’m not going to scream. I can find it.”

Derek’s eye drew to Auror Parrish who was eyeing the pack warily. Derek’s jaw clenched. He grabbed hold of Lydia’s forearm and began to drag her with the other students. “Try to hold it. The aurors are watching.”

Lydia nodded tensely and let the pack form a barrier around her as they continued walking. “I can hear someone screaming.” She whispered.

“Where?”

Lydia looked behind her shoulder as they entered the castle. “From outside. Forest…”

Allison perked up. “I know a way out of the castle. There’s a passage on the first floor that leads to the Transfiguration Courtyard.”

“How do we get there? They are starting to separate us.” Scott asked.

Derek saw the idea flash in Stiles’ eyes. “Cora, can you do a color change charm?” Stiles asked. She nodded. “Change everyone’s tie and robes to Hufflepuff colors. I’ll transfigure the badges.”

Together they performed the spell. The pack followed the Hufflepuff students until Allison pulled the others down a different corridor discreetly.

They stood in front of a portrait of Giffard Abbott, a nobleman with an annoying yapping dog. Allison didn’t let the portrait speak as she shushed him with a finger to her lips. “Dragon’s Breath.” She whispered. The portrait swung open and each of them went into the dark passageway.

“How did you find about this?” Isaac asked behind her.

“We have a similar system in Beauxbatons. If you talk to portraits nicely they like to gossip about all the passages in the castle.” Allison stated. “Lydia, how are you doing?”

“I feel like screaming. It’s at the tip of my tongue.”

“Keep holding it.” Jackson urged his girlfriend.

They reached the end of the corridor; Allison pushed the back of the portrait. Scott stepped out first, sniffing around. When he smelled nothing, he urged the others to come out.

Lydia looked frantically around. She made toward the direction of the Forbidden Forest. They walked at a hasty pace as they followed Lydia and made sure no one was around. Stiles and Cora cast concealment charms around them, which were useless against aurors who were trained to look past such tricks, but it gave them some sense of comfort. When they finally reached the forest, they had to jog to keep up with Lydia as she ducked under branches and hopped over small ditches, even in heels.

“Damn.” She looked around. Her tresses slapping her in the face. “I lost it.”

Derek closed his eyes to inhale deeply. A metallic bitter taste burned his nostrils. Derek growled. He shifted and ran. The other werewolves chased after him. He felt slightly guilty leaving the others behind, but there were more important matters.

The smell got stronger and then soon, Derek found a body lying limp.

The other werewolves stopped behind Derek. His heart rate increased.

“Derek?” Cora asked her brother.

“I know her. Carrie Hudson, she’s in Hufflepuff same year as me.”

Cora placed a hand on Derek’s shoulder. Derek couldn’t even feel his sister beside him. He didn’t know how to react.

Scott took lead. He stepped forward, careful not to touch the body. He illuminated his wand. His breath hitched. “Claw marks.” Scott gasped.

Boyd’s deep baritone voice rang. “I bet these claw marks are the same ones that were on Garret Dye and Violet Logan.”

“So what? There’s another werewolf in Hogwarts?” Isaac asked.

Derek took a deep breath to calm his nerves but he regretted it as he smelled Carrie’s decaying body. “Possibly.”

“ _Possibly._ ” Jackson spat. “ _Shouldn’t you know? You’re the Alpha._ ”

“This might be beyond me.”

Scott stood straight. “We need to go back. We can’t be found with the body.”

Jackson’s eyes opened wide as he looked at Scott’s illuminated wand. He yanked it out of his hand. “You idiot! Your magical signature is all over the crime scene now.”

Scott panicked and stuttered. “What do we do?”

Derek’s ears twitched as he heard a branch snapping, but he was a second too late as several spells shot at them. _“Down!”_

The werewolves reacted quickly as they all fell to their stomachs to avoid the flashing lights over them. They heard several footsteps and soon they were surrounded. They hesitantly lifted their heads to look around. Aurors in their uniform shot several spells and once again the werewolves were left with whiplash on how quickly everything happened to them.

The spells bound their hands behind their back in chains and lifted them to their feet. Derek glanced at his pack and saw all the worried looks directed at him to do something. Thankfully, he didn’t have to do anything.

_“Scott?”_

“Crap.” Scott whispered.

Derek saw Head Auror Stilinski with his wand poised. He lowered it slightly as he saw Scott, but kept it up as he saw the body behind them. Derek saw the conflict in the older man’s eyes of wanting to pull them away from the scene of the crime and blaming them for it. It seemed Head Auror won out over Parental Stilinski. “Scott you have three seconds to explain yourself now.” He said with a level headed voice, but the malice was loud and clear.

Scott stammered unable to form a complete sentence.

_“Jackson?”_

Derek turned to his right and saw a man who had similar features to Jackson approach their group.

Jackson’s jaw clenched. “Uncle.”

“Jackson. You know what this looks like right?” His uncle asked with accusation heavily prominent in his tone.

Jackson didn’t say a word.

“Scott.” Head Auror Stilinski said in a more stern voice. “Explain. _Now._ ”

Derek’s head snapped around. He could hear the loud trampling of clumsy feet and smell the scent of woods and sugar cane. _“DAD!_ ” Stiles shouted appearing with Allison and Lydia behind him.

All the aurors were startled and pointed their wands at the three. Stiles dramatically flared looking like a kitten scared by it’s own shadow. “Woah!” Stiles shouted, putting his hands in the air.

 _“Stiles?”_ Derek cringed at the angry disbelief in Head Auror Stilinski’s voice.

“Hey dad.” Stiles muttered awkwardly.

The Head Auror stomped toward his son. “Stiles. What’s going on?”

Stiles glanced at the pack over his father’s shoulder. “Uh. We need to talk in private.”

“What?” The Head Auror shouted.

“It’s confidential information.” Stiles urged.  

“Stiles. This is extremely serious we don’t have time for your games or pranks. You need to tell us exactly what you are doing here.”

“We didn’t do anything to the body. We found it.”

“Found it? Why are you walking around the forest when there is a strict curfew involved.”

Stiles glanced behind to look at Lydia. “Dad, please it’s private.”

The Head Auror grunted in frustration and dragged his son by the collar to pull away from the scene. Derek listened intently.

“Lydia had a vision.” Stiles said when they were out of earshot of the aurors.

“Stiles. I don’t have time for this.”

Lydia quickly ran to them. “Hello Head Auror Stilinski.”

“Ms. Martin.”

She took a deep breath. “Archer Evermonde, Minister of Magic from 1912 to 1923 established the first legislation, titled the Witches Hex Bag, in which wizards who were minors could release information to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in which only Head Aurors could access that information and only use it in court if they found the information relevant to the case. I am using The Witches’ Hex Bag now. May I proceed?”

John looked at the students with exasperation but gave a terse nod anyway, as he was man abided by the law.

“I’m a Banshee.” Lydia finally said. “Well part Banshee. I can sense when someone is going to die. As a pureblood, you would understand why I would want that information to stay between us as it could destroy my family’s name. I forced the others to come outside with me. I sensed something was happening here.”

The Head Auror glanced at Derek and the others who were still bound. “Would you be willing to repeat that under the truth charm for me?”

“Even Veritaserum.”

“Ok.” He sighed and looked to his son. “We are having a serious talk later. Bring Scott.”

Stiles nodded quickly.

The Head Auror addressed his cohorts. “Let them go.”

“What? We caught them at the scene of the crime!” One of the aurors shouted.

“Parrish. Did you scan the students’ wands?”

“Yes. The only thing we found were a lumos charm and firework spells. Nothing pointing to dark magic. They’re innocent.”

“Good. Auror Haigh. Step away from the students. Parrish, Whittemore, escort the students back to the castle. Make sure they all enter their _appropriate_ dormitories.”

 

|~~***~~|

 

Stacks and folders rested precariously on wooden desks. The old classroom had been vacated to accommodate a room for the Aurors in which they had made a tornado of files.

Scott and Stiles stood side by side as they stood in the line of fire waiting for their parent’s to yell at them. It had only been a day since Stiles’ father caught them outside of the castle and his anger was still evident. Stiles tried to avoid the harsh lecturing that had been going on for the past twenty minutes by glancing at a piece of paper that was dancing around in the corner of the room.

“What were you two thinking!” Melissa shouted. Scott and Stiles cringed. Melissa was even angrier, especially that she was pulled out of her shift to have this talk with them. “There is a strict curfew and you are playing in the forest, which I might add is forbidden!”

“We—” Scott tried to speak.

“No.” John Stilinski cut off. “I don’t think you understand the severity of what you just did. There is a killer on the loose and you and your friends are acting like it’s a game.”

Stiles retorted quickly. “That’s not true we wanted to help.”

“You wanted to help? You are not aurors, Stiles. Leave this to us.”

“But—”

“But what?” John was losing patience.

“We can help. We can find the bodies long before you can.”

“You mean Lydia Martin can?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m not going to involve a minor in this case, Stiles. This is dangerous. Someone out there has killed three students. I don’t want you or Scott or any of your friends to be one of those that die.”

Silence settled. Scott looked up at his mother and his practically adopted father. “We’re sorry.”

“And?” John asked.

“And what?” Stiles asked looking between Scott and his father.

John sighed. “Can you at least humor me you won’t get involved?”

Stiles looked at his shoes. “Yeah.” His father didn’t have to be a werewolf to hear the lie there.

“Stiles, Scott. Please be careful. You know we love you both; we just want—”

There was a sudden knock on the door. Everyone turned as the door opened. “Head Auror,” Auror Parrish addressed politely. “Auror Graeme thinks she found something.”

John nodded, standing from his seat. He looked at the boys in front of them giving them both a firm grasp on the shoulder before leaving. As soon as the door was shut, Melissa rushed over to her boys. “I’m sorry for yelling at you two. I had to make it look believable, I know both of you are more than capable of handling yourself after Deucalion, but I have to ask is this a werewolf thing?” Melissa asked.

Scott shrugged. “We don’t know. We think it might be.”

Melissa sighed, running a hand through her face. “You can’t get involved this could be tied too close to you. If John catches any of you...”

“He won’t.” Stiles assured. “We’ll be safe.”

“Stiles, your father was not appointed as Head Auror without reason; he’s observant. He will connect the dots sooner or later. What if he accuses you Scott of the murders or any of your friends?” She paused, looking startled. “It’s not any of you, right?”

“No.” Scott assured. “We don’t know who it is, that’s the thing that has us freaked out. Deaton even more.”

“Deaton’s scared?”

Scott nodded.

Melissa released a shaky breath. “This can’t be good. You really need to stay out of this. I’m begging you.”

“We’ll be fine mom.”

“That is so not the answer I wanted. You can bet if you get involved I will ground both of you for the entire summer from seeing each other, sending owls, floo, anything.”

Stiles guffawed. “You can’t ground me!”

Melissa sent him a glare.

“Ok yeah you can, but we have to do something. This might be out of my dad’s depth. What if he gets hurt?”

“He’s an auror, Stiles. It’s in the job description.”

“That’s what worries me.”

Melissa released a small whimper. She pulled both boys into a hug. “Let the adults do their job and protect you kids for a change. Ok?”

The boys couldn’t lie to Melissa so they kept quiet. She pulled back looking solemn for having to return back to St. Mungos, but the boys understood. When Melissa left, both of them headed outside and paused when they saw Derek and Cora waiting outside.

“Did you hear that?” Scott asked.

Derek shook his head. “Silencing wards.”

“Right.”

“What happened?” Cora questioned.

“Nothing. Just got yelled at.”

“Less than Jackson then.” Cora said. “He just got out of having a talk with his uncle and apparently, Jackson’s been cut off from allowance for three months.”

Stiles made a face. “Merlin, he’s going to be insufferable. What about you guys?”

Cora shrugged. “Aurors sent a letter to Laura. So we should be expecting a howler pretty soon.”

Stiles sighed. “This isn’t good.”

“What is?” Cora asked.

“I rather talk about this together as a group.”

Derek nodded. “The others are already at the Great Hall.”

Stiles and the others followed Derek to the eating area. They sat together this time at the Ravenclaw table and tried to be as discreet as possible.

“Do you really think we need to get involved?” Boyd asked, passing the peas to Jackson.

“Those were clear claw marks.” Erica stated, intercepting the peas.  

Isaac made a face at the bell peppers in his pasta and shifted them over onto Scott’s plate, who took them happily. “But it could have been done by an animal.” Isaac retorted. “We saw the thestral. There could just be a wild creature on the loose.”

“From our experience, I wouldn’t say it’s an animal.” Stiles hissed, puncturing his chicken with a knife.

“So what?” Jackson questioned once he stole the peas from Erica.

Lydia spoke up. “We need to investigate.”

Isaac’s eyes scrunched. “Weren’t you the one not wanting to do this?”

Lydia’s hands slammed beside her plate and quickly verbally attacked Isaac. “I think I’m entitled to have a change of opinion here, I’m the one sensing the deaths.”

Allison sighed at her best friend and tried to steer away from raised voices. “Investigate? You’re kidding right? If the Aurors can’t find any clues, what makes you think we can?”

“We might have more ground on where to start.” Scott spoke up. “We can pick up scents around the crime scenes.”

Derek nodded, barely touching his food. “We can subtlety ask around, pick up on lies, see if any of the students know what’s happening.”

“So we’re doing this?” Erica asked with a tilt of her head and twirling a butter knife in hand.

“Yeah,” Stiles assured.

“Great,” the poor butter knife came clattering to pierce against the table “One mission to the next. Can our lives get any better?”

Boyd sighed. “That might not be the biggest issue at the moment.”

Stiles snorted. “What are you talking about? People are dying to death of course this is the biggest issue.”

“Curfew.” Boyd hissed. “Hogwarts doors get barred shut every single night. Full moon is tomorrow. What are we going to do? We can’t just go to the Shrieking Shack.”

“Passageways.” Allison said.

Jackson picked up on Boyd’s reasoning. “That might not be safe considering that the soul sucking monsters get closer to the castle at night. We will get caught for sure. You can’t escape a dementor.”

“So what do we do?” Scott asked.

Derek sighed. “We can’t stay in the dorms. All of you have your anchor but it is still a danger to the other students in case something happens.”

“We can try sneaking into the Batcave?” Erica suggested.

Lydia perked up. “The Room of Requirement might actually be a good idea. We can ward it so the doors don’t open for anyone but us and not to open for the rest of night.”

Stiles laughed. “Question. How do we get there?”

“We’re just going to have to be extra quiet.” Derek said. “Bring the twins.”

“What?! No!” Stiles and Cora cried with a mouthful of food.

“They would go to the forest on the full moon. I don’t trust them to be on their own if we can’t sneak outside to the grounds.”

Stiles groaned, thunking his head on the table. “Fine.”

  
  


|~~***~~|

 

Derek waited patiently for his roommates to fall asleep, thankfully many of them were tired from last night’s study session that they fell asleep early. Derek pulled on his leather jacket and grabbed his bag filling it with a few things. He swung the strap over his shoulder and carefully made it out of the room.

He caught his Betas by the wooden mantlepiece carved with badgers underneath the portrait of Helga Hufflepuff. They barely noticed them as Erica was giving them an impromptu lesson on Herbology seeing as Morrell had brought a few new plants into the common room.

“It’s a Puffapod,” Erica whispered. “If you tickle the pink pod, seeds fall and burst into beautiful flowers.”

“You ready?” Derek interrupted.

The three nodded and together carefully snuck out of the common room. They crouched by the barrells outside the Hufflepuff area, listening intently for any auros. When they couldn’t hear any, they stayed close to the shadows against the walls, hunching over as extra precaution.

Isaac released a small gasp as they saw one of the school ghost. Derek clamped a hand over Isaac’s mouth, manhandling him to the side. Derek nearly forgot about the ghosts. The ethereal beings didn’t have a scent and unless they were talking they never made a sound. They had to be careful, lest they run into one of the more trouble making ghosts who loved to rat students out of bed. But...he slinked close to the ground to double check. He smirked when he saw it was their House Ghost. The Fat Friar wasn’t doing much, he just looked like he was loitering around.

“Friar.” Derek hissed, but the ghost didn’t turn around.

“FRIAR!” Erica shouted.

Everyone hissed for the blonde to quiet down, but it worked as the ghost was floating their way.

“Students shouldn’t be out of bed especially now seeing as there is a killer out there.” The Fat Friar whispered with a smile.

“We know. We need help sneaking past the aurors by the Great Hall.” Derek said.

“Hmmm...I’m not sure that’s appropriate.”

Boyd stepped forward. “We will tell the Bloody Baron it was the third year Hufflepuffs who broke the mantlepiece in the Dungeons.”

Derek smirked at Boyd’s genius. The Fat Friar was awfully protective of his students and he wouldn’t want the Bloody Baron of all people badgering poor third years. “Ok. Just this once.” The Fat Friar announced. He phased through Isaac who shivered and gagged at the feeling.

They waited for a few minutes and smelled the aurors leaving their post. They quickly got up and ran to the stairs.

Derek felt thankful that he saw Stiles, Jackson, and Aiden making their way to them on the second floor.

But of course they couldn’t be so lucky.

Derek heard footsteps rounding the corner. Stiles heard them too and soon he was ushering all of them into an empty broom cupboard.

Out of the most cliche of hiding places, this had to be at number one, and Derek was almost certain they were going to get caught.

“Stop touching me.” Jackson hissed at Erica.

“Please, like I would want to.” Erica taunted back, but from Derek’s vantage point he could see Erica groping Jackson’s ass.

“Both of you shut up.” Derek hissed.

It was then Derek noticed the utter stupidity Stiles’ stunt had caused.

Boyd had been pushed all the way to the back along with Aiden. Derek’s back was mashed up against Boyd’s front and Jackson was pressed against his left side along with Erica. Leaving both Stiles and Isaac smashed together against the door. This would have been hilarious if they got out of this, but Derek was struggling not to move as Stiles was pressed all along his front. Derek didn’t know where else to look but at Stiles’ eyes who was struggling to look anywhere else.

“Can you hear them?” Stiles whispered.

“Yes.” Derek said, heart beating frantically. “Quiet.”

They would have listened, but then Derek began to notice that on his right, Isaac was breathing overly loud. “Isaac?”

“I can’t.” He hissed. “I need to get out.”

Stiles gasped as he saw Isaac’s eyes glow and canines emerge.

“Isaac, focus on your anchor.” Derek whispered.

But Isaac wasn’t listening anymore. He was making a lot of noise.

“Crap.” Stiles tried to reach for his wand, but his arm was trapped along Erica’s body. “Derek. Reach for my wand. It’s in my back pocket.”

Derek’s eyes went wide as he realized where his arms had been trapped. Both his hands rested on Stiles’ lower back. Obviously, he was the only able to reach for the wand so he pushed his stupid crush to the side to grasp the wand. He maneuvered his arm awkwardly, touching Stiles more than required, and passed him his wand.

Stiles sighed in relief. _“Exorior Odaratio.”_

All the werewolves gasped.

The air in the room changed as Stiles’ Moonwalker scent returned. Derek bit back the groan at the back of his throat and then struggled against the growl as he watched Isaac’s arms snake around Stiles’ waist. Isaac took it a step further as he pressed his lips to Stiles’ neck, right against the pulse.

Derek was not going to be jealous.

He was _not_.

After a few seconds, he couldn’t hold it anymore. He stepped impossibly closer to Stiles, pressing the poor Slytherin against the door. He would have felt embarrassed, but all the werewolves were trying to crowd around Stiles too.

 

Thankfully, all of them were keeping quiet and it seemed like the auror that had been following them didn’t know they were there. Stiles thunked his head against the door and let the werewolves do as they pleased. When a minute passed, Isaac seemed to get some of his bearings back because he pushed back a bit.

“Sorry,” Isaac whispered.

“It’s ok? Can you sense them?” Stiles asked, since the other werewolves seemed to be busy.

Isaac listened intently. “Yeah. Hold on I have an idea.” He pulled out his rat from his pocket. “Hey Mars. You think you can distract the aurors.”

“Isaac, I don’t think your rat understands—” Stiles gulped as he felt Derek’s hands tug at his belt loop to press their hips together. He tried not think about his sex fantasy a few nights ago.

Isaac smiled. “You underestimate the intelligence of animals.” He let Mars crawl down his leg and down the small crack at the bottom of the door.

They waited for a moment and soon they heard footsteps stomping outside. Another minute passed and Mars was running back inside and up Isaac’s body to his shoulder.

“We’re good.” Isaac breathed. He pushed open the door and all of them tumbled onto the ground.

Stiles groaned as Erica and Derek had fallen against him. Of course, he would be at the bottom of this puppy pile.

“Isaac?”

“Yeah. Can you get them off?”

Isaac gave a cocky grin that made Stiles want to punch him, because he was obviously enjoying this, but he did help.

When Stiles got some breathing room, he reached inside his robes and pulled out a test tube. He uncorked it and began drinking it and said the spell quickly. All the werewolves snapped out of it. Jackson groaned melodramatically as he once again he was caught worshipping Stiles’ body.

“That was fun.” Jackson muttered.

Stiles made a face.

“You carry the potion with you?” Derek asked, getting to his feet.

“Yeah, thought it would come in handy.”

Derek merely shook his head in exasperation and continued walking off, but he merely did it to hide the blush that was appearing across his cheeks.

Whatever, Isaac’s dumbo rat had done had apparently sent almost all the aurors running in the opposite direction, so the pack and Aiden headed toward the Room of Requirement with no problem.

When the door opened and closed behind them, they saw Scott gasp in relief. “Oh thank Godric! We were going to send a search party.”

“We don’t all live on the top floors of the castle, Scott.” Stiles informed his best friend, heading straight for the couch. He collapsed on top of it, not caring that his face landed in Cora’s lap. She kneed his jaw but Stiles grumbled, causing Cora to relent.

“Everyone here?” Allison asked looking around.

“Yup.” Erica grinned. “Almost got caught though. Stiles saved the day by smelling like wolf-nip.”

“Don’t even ask.” Stiles said muffled against Cora’s thigh.

The others wisely didn’t.

After a few minutes, the pack and the twins settled around the Room of Requirement. Derek had taken his usual spot at his recliner chair as he read the book Stiles had given him. Scott and Allison were by the window, kissing very PG. Cora was helping Erica with Charms work, while Boyd, Isaac, and Jackson quietly worked on their History essay. Lydia had claimed the loveseat with a bunch of books and notes while Stiles sat in the space at her feet with his notes on his Moonwalker book. He scanned up and noticed the twins by the fireplace, not making any noise and just staring into the fire.

Creepy…

He ignored them and went back to his book.

_The spell, I felt was simple enough, but only my eldest daughter was able to create it without problem. All it involved was concentration, a strong nerve of belief, and picturing it materializing to create mountain ash out of air. There was no incantation only extending the hand in the direction one wished the mountain ash to appear. Further concentration was required to create rings or have the mountain ash float in mid air._

Stiles scrunched his brows. That wasn’t very helpful, but if one just had to concentrate...He outstretched out his hand in front of him, closing his eyes and picturing the mountain ash materializing just as the book said.

“What. Are. You. Doing?” Lydia asked.

“Huh?” Stiles jumped, looking up.

“That ridiculous hand thing.”

“Oh I’m trying to do some Moonwalker magic. It says I can create mountain ash.”

Lydia leaned over him. “You must have translated something wrong.”

“Uh, no I didn’t.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure you did.”

Stiles tugged his notes away as she made a reach for it. “Why would that be translated wrong?”

“Because it defies the laws of magic.” Lydia went into her ‘I’m better than you, so I’m going to explain this to you like a child’ mode. “Think of it this way. Let’s say you have an apple and you want to make it into a wand. You obviously can’t, there are too many magical properties for the apple to handle. Now back to the mountain ash, it is the skilled Herbologist who refines meticulously the rowan tree into it’s ash form. The ash contains a lot of magic. Therefore, creating mountain is impossible because you aren’t pulling the ash from anything to begin with. You would need a rowan tree.”

Stiles’ eyes fell back to his book, now considering Lydia’s words.

“Not unless he transfigures it.”

Stiles looked up to where Derek was sitting.

Lydia scoffed at Derek. “But that’s the point I’m trying to make. He wouldn’t be transfiguring it from anything, what would he be using?”

“Molecules.”

“What?” Lydia questioned, not understanding the muggle terminology.

“Um, that is to say everything. It would be a form of several simultaneous transfigurations at the same time. Transfiguring the properties of everything around him into a rowan tree and then into mountain ash.”  

Lydia rolled her eyes. “That would take a Transfiguration—”

“Prodigy?” Scott asked with a smirk, listening to the conversation intently. “Stiles has always been abnormally good at Transfiguration, he could practically do anything involving it without even trying. It probably comes from his Moonwalker magic?”

“Soooo….I can do it?” Stiles asked.

“Most likely.” Scott said.

Stiles was able to get some confidence and repeated the gesture before Lydia interrupted. He breathed deeply, and then suddenly opened his eyes.

He gasped as a few particles floated into the sky, it was barely a dash of it, but it worked. The particles floated and then landed on Aiden’s face.

The mountain ash sizzled across his eyes.

Aiden’s eyes turned blue and growled at Stiles.

Not even half a second passed by but Derek stood in front of Stiles. He growled at Aiden so loud it made the room, shake.

Aiden did not back down though. “He started it. He burned me.”

“You tried to raise an evil spirit.” Derek countered.

Which, yeah there was no comparison there. Aiden still tried to argue, but it was there Stiles noticed their blue eyes. “Blue.” He whispered. _Holy Shit._

Derek’s head snapped down to meet him. His eyes were filled with panic, now knowing why Stiles understood his eye color change.

Derek shook his head barely a fraction, but Stiles understood. He would talk to him later about it, but knowing Derek they weren’t going to have that conversation anytime soon.

The commotion with the twins died down and Lydia reached for his book with his notes. “I can’t believe that worked!”

“Hey!” Stiles took the book back. He tugged it too harshly and it fell to the ground. Stiles sighed and picked it up, but paused when he saw the last few pages.

That was weird.

The last thirty pages or so were completely new parchment instead of dead animal skin. Why? He stroked the pages, lost in them for ages.

He was snapped out of it five minutes later to Lydia squealing in glee.

“Ha! I found it!”

“Really?” Allison asked, standing up. She sat on the armrest of the love seat pearing at Lydia’s stuff.

“Found what?” Cora asked.

Allison answered for Lydia as the Ravenclaw was too busy cross referencing. “Ever since we found Carrie Hudson, Lydia has been looking for a way to get control of her Banshee powers and the only way is to—”

“Find a Banshee.” Jackson finished, who was most adverse in dark creature. “Lydia, no. Do you understand how dangerous that is?”

Lydia ignored him, turning to Derek. “There is a Banshee by the Lake of Menteith. If I can find a way to speak to it maybe it can teach me to control my powers and we can find out who's been killing all these people.”

Derek mulled it over.

Jackson stood up, Boyd’s quick reflexes prevented him from spilling the ink goblets. “Derek no. She is being stupid...You can’t.”

“Where is it again?” Derek ignored him.

Lydia grinned. “Inchmahome Priory right by the lake.”

“We can leave in two days.” Stiles said. “I overheard my dad saying the aurors are letting us have a supervised Hogsmeade trip.”

“Why would they do that?” Cora questioned.

“Said the students are getting restless and I think they want to search the dormitories”

“We’ll leave then.” Derek announced.

“How?” Jackson spat. “We can’t very well apparate there can we?”

Scott’s eyes lit up. “No. But we can fly.”

Jackson laughed. “You’re kidding right?”

“No. We can fly there it will only take about what an hour.”  
“We can help.” Ethan interrupted.

Stiles could see Derek wanted to say no, but he nodded. They all knew the twins were looking for ways to redeem themselves and a way finally popped up for them. They planned for their escape for most of the night.

“Hey. Look at this.” Boyd interrupted sometime late morning.

Everyone looked at the front page.

_**TWO STUDENTS DIE IN HOGWARTS: POOR CHOICE IN HEADMASTER?** _

“The _Daily Prophet_ is a load of poor gossip.” Lydia said.

“No, the article under it.”

_**AURORS THE MOST UNOBSERVANT PEOPLE IN THE WIZARDING WORLD** _

Erica snatched the paper and everyone crowded her to read over her shoulder. The article was short it barely took up a column, but informed them that back in late December someone had broken into the evidence archive and stolen the ashes of Deucalion, Kali, and Ennis.

No one knew what to think of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, Stiles finally discovered he's bi, just a random tidbit Stiles discovered his attraction about the same way that I did. Procrastination, procrastination, more procrastination, and then just acceptance and then the oh crap, because you like someone you really shouldn't. So yup. 
> 
> What did you think of this chapter? Sterek is finally coming and I assure you it will be brilliant when both stop to realize they are both idiots who think their crushes are unrequited. What do you think of Lydia? Other pack members? The killer? The cryptic Daily Prophet article? Love to hear any comment.
> 
> Anyway though, so school is starting to pick up so not sure when I will upload and I am going to start making my cosplay outfit for Artemis from Young Justice because I will be attending a con, so next chapter not sure when it will come out but rest assured I will not leave this story. 
> 
> Again thank's for all the reviews and kudos I appreciate them tremendously.
> 
> Oh and before I forget, my tumblr account got hacked and deleted this month. I was so angry about that since that was three years worth of stuff on there but if you were following me before please follow me again at [THIS LINK HERE](http://twinklingpaopufruit.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Also, my friend drew fanart for my story and I think it's so amazing and I want to post it but she's embarrassed but I'll try to convince her so I can publish it with the next chapter.


	33. Dementors and Banshees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Banshees, dementors, boggarts, oh my! kisses? double oh my!

It was the first week of March when the aurors decided to let the students run wild. Well, wild would be a complete over exaggeration. The students were the sheep and the aurors were the shepherd as they made the  trek to the village.

The pack followed the other students as all students third years and over were required to leave the castle. They were growing antsy but they prayed their plan would work.

Stiles eyed the twins who were on either side of him. The pack confided very little in the twins to sneak past the aurors. However, the twins reminded them if they could sneak past Deaton a few months ago, they could do this. The pack did not have a counter argument.

Once they reached the outskirts of the village, several students defied auror orders and ran up ahead, glad to finally get a breath of real fresh air.

The twins were one of them. Stiles watched the bell over Honeydukes sway as the twins entered the candy shop. The twins said under the shop a secret passageway led back to the castle. The plan wasn’t overly complicated. The twins would return to Hogwarts, grab the supplies, and then take the passageway behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy to enter the forest. Once in the forest, the twins would distract the aurors.

In the time being, the pack loitered the Hog’s head. They ordered a few drinks to avoid suspicion, but they couldn’t concentrate on their orders as they observed the flat parchment in front of Cora and Lydia. The girls had charmed the paper to mirror another. Whatever was written on this paper would show on the other and vice versa.

Cora sipped her drink and Stiles saw her jump as black ink scrawled on the paper.

_Broom got_

Cora grabbed a quill and wrote on the paper. _You two need to learn how to write coherently._

The reply was immediate. _We wold if A werent after us_

Boyd stole the quill from her before she could start a note war.

After a few more checkups from the twins, the final note was marked down. _GO NOW!_

The pack knew they looked suspicious as they all stood simultaneously. Jackson threw some galleons on the table without counting them as the others threw on their coats.

They kept their head low. Stiles eyes kept dancing in every direction searching for any auror, but they had all disappeared. Despite that this was the desired outcome, Stiles was a little worried for the twins. He hoped the two didn’t get caught.

“Holy crap...they actually got our brooms here and everything,” Isaac cheered, rushing over to his prized Star Sweeper once all of them were in the forest.

“Don’t cheer yet.” Derek said, sucking the mood like usual. “We still have to fly out without being noticed.”

“No problem.” Cora grinned, twirling her wand. “Stiles and I were practicing our concealing charms all night.”

“Aurors can see through them, you dolts.” Jackson spat.

Stiles pretended he didn’t hear him. “This spell isn’t listed under auror training. The only ones who would probably be able to see it our my dad and your uncle, but they are inside the castle.”

“That’s great!” Scott smiled.

“Not great.” Cora grimaced. “The spell is good but it only lasts about five minutes. We need to be gone from eye view within that time frame.”

“Are you kidding?” Erica scoffed. “Maybe Jackson’s and Stiles’ Firebolt can, but the rest of us would have to fly like crazy! Why can’t you just cast the spell when we are up there again?”

Stiles huffed. “Because the spell loses its effectiveness the more it’s cast,”

“We’re all pretty good flyers.” Allison chimed in innocently. “We will just have to fly quicker.”

Cora laughed. “We are all pretty good flyers except for…”

Everyone slowly turned to Derek.

Derek’s glare screamed murderous intent, but they all knew Cora had a strong point.

So it was easy for Stiles to say, “Derek, you’re flying with me. The Firebolt should withstand both our weights without any issue.”

Derek surprisingly didn’t argue, only giving a curt nod.

There were last minute discussions on which direction to fly first before they mounted their brooms.

Derek stood awkwardly by Stiles.

“Ok how are we going to do this?” Stiles spoke mostly to himself. He then scooted backwards, directing Derek up front. Derek sighed but climbed on. The broom wavered but Stiles settled it quickly as he brought his arms around Derek to rest up front. Derek had to make himself tiny to allow Stiles optimal flying. “Ready?” Stiles asked Cora.

Cora nodded. The two cast the charm underneath everyone’s feet and without preamble shot into the air.

 

Derek closed his eyes as the wind whipped against his cheeks. Some wisps of his hair brushed against his forehead.

He felt Stiles’ lips press on the back of his neck and Derek fought the shudder, knowing it to be an accident. Unbeknownst to him, Stiles was trying to hold back the glee mixed with a dash of panic at having Derek so close.

“Three minutes!” Scott shouted, who was keeping time of how much had passed.

Derek cursed. They weren’t even over the hills yet. He felt Stiles stiffen behind him and he saw Stiles hands curl tighter around the broom.

“Lean forward,” Stiles said in Derek’s ear.

Derek nodded supporting Stiles’ weight as he nearly bent them over the entire broom. He looked over his shoulder and caught Stiles’ gaze. Stiles smiled briefly, adjusting his hold on his Firebolt one last time before increasing at the speed of light. Derek gasped in shock. He nestled back against him more snugly. If he wasn’t so scared, he would admired the gracefulness of an airborne Stiles compared to his usual flop on two feet.

They zipped through the sky and soon Stiles flew over the hills, Jackson appearing by their side at the same time. They descended to be out of view and waited for the others.

“How much time?” Stiles asked.

“I can hear, Scott calling thirty seconds.” Derek stated.

Luck was on their side that day as twenty-eight seconds later the others appeared beside them. The charm slowly faded from under them.

“Everyone good?” Scott asked.

They nodded.

The pack continued their trip, with Cora and Stiles casting a simpler version of the concealment charms to avoid being seen by muggles.

Derek couldn’t tell where they were exactly as they flew. All he could see was a thick growth of forest. He trusted Lydia to lead them in the right direction.

Lydia took a sharp left and Derek was jostled as Stiles followed her. He was steadied with a hand on his hip. “Sorry,” Stiles muttered in his ear.

Derek nodded tensely and looked up ahead. He hoped his blush wasn’t visible.  

“Enjoying the ride, Stiles?” Isaac called with snark.

Stiles narrowed his gaze at him. “Bet you’re enjoying it, getting a nice excuse to look at Lydia’s behind, right?”

Lydia didn’t even turn around, but Jackson did with a murderous glare and flash of his werewolf eyes.

Isaac reddened. “No,” He stuttered, but even without werewolf lie detecting abilities it was obvious he was caught staring.

“Isaac avert your eyes unless you would like to be in danger of getting pushed off your broom.” Jackson called from up front.

“Go on, then.” Erica defended. “I dare you to do it!”

“Erica, shut up. What kind of defense is that?” Isaac shot to her.

Cora groaned. “Not one at all, you would deserve what Jackson gives you for looking where you aren’t supposed to.”

“Why, Cora!” cried Jackson, grinning. “I didn’t know you sided with me. Not that I’m all that surprised. I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist me.”

“And they call Stiles the delusional one,” Boyd muttered aside.

“Jackson shut the fuck up before I knock you off your broom.” Stiles shouted, annoyed with Jackson’s usual conceited nature. “If you get sent to Azkaban for offing Isaac, Danny would kill me for letting your violent urges run rampant, and then I’ll come back as a ghost to kill you.”

“I’ll see you in the afterlife then.”

Scott spoke to his best friend, “Talk about eternal damnation.”

Stiles laughed. “I know right.”

“If I were you, I’d be having orgasms at the mere thought that I’d be spending forever with me.” Jackson then shot a wink that was all too knowing.

Derek didn’t understand it, but he could feel Stiles heart rate increase against his back. “Danny told. That utter prick!”

Boyd came to Stiles’ rescue, which was another thing that Derek did not understand, since Boyd had a tendency to stay out of petty fights. “Getting off on yourself again, Whittemore?”

Jackson was about to say something when Allison began to yell at them all.

“Alright, all of you cut that out! We’re thousands of feet above the ground, for Merlin’s sake! I can’t believe you’re bickering at this altitude!”

“What does altitude have to do with it?” Stiles asked. “Is snarkiness supposed to be inversely proportional to one’s distance from the ground?”

“Be quiet, Stiles!” Allison hissed, which Stiles wisely listened because although Derek would never admit aloud, Allison could be scary. She stopped Jackson from saying another thing as well. Derek thanked her, which was something Derek had never considered doing to an Argent.

Thankfully, the rest of the hour continued in silence.

The sky above them was damp and overcast, a few miles ahead there seemed to be a tantalizing outbreak of sunshine, but they knew once they reached it they would be met with a sprinkle of rain.

The trip took about an hour and a few minutes. Inchmahome Priory was a small island in the center of the lake. As soon as they began to descend Stiles could see the Augustinian monastery. The cloister of buildings to the south of the church were largely ruined, but the chapter house to the east looked to be preserved well. When they landed, their feet smooshed against the damp grass and mud sprayed against their shoes and ankles. The area was abandoned, the only other presence was the noise of insects and birds around them.  

“All right Lydia, now what?” Allison adjusted her ponytail which had come loose from the flight.

“Well the sightings said they saw her by the lake.”

“So what? We go take a dip?” Erica leaned against the handle of her broom. “Too bad, I didn’t bring my bikini.”

“I don’t think we have to. They said she appears by the dock.”

They walked over the moist grass to the edge of the lake. Immediately, they noticed the midday creepy scenery. The water held no reflective surface. A thick layer of fog covered the lake. The same fog penetrated the island. It had nowhere to go as not a single wind breezed by them. It was strangely serene though.

“Ok so where is she?” Isaac asked.

Derek stood straight. “You should be able to call it.”

Lydia looked at him strangely. “What do you mean?”

“Werewolves can call each other through a howl. I would assume it work for Banshees with a scream.”

Lydia snorted. “I’m not going to scream.”

Jackson rolled his eyes behind her. “Lydia in case you forgot we are on a time crunch. Just fucking scream.”

Lydia huffed but followed instruction. She walked to the edge of the dock, looking ahead. She pulled her shoulders behind her and then screamed.

Stiles knew there was no effect of it by the fact that none of the werewolves were kneeling over in pain. Lydia let the scream go somewhat pathetically. “Well that was fun. Any other ideas?”

“Blood,” Stiles said thinking it over. “Your scream isn’t a form of communication, I don’t know what it is, but it’s not that. You will need to spill blood, you’re related to it.”

“Spilling blood in bodies of water left you in a coma for two days.”

“But you’re not a Moonwalker. You’re a Banshee.”

“Right.” She pulled off an earing and used the sharp end to prick her finger. She let the blood drip in the water, ripples formed.

Suddenly, the insects and animals quieted down. Fog piled more heavily around the lake until the pack struggled to see a foot in front of them. Jackson tried to walk over to Lydia, but he felt an immovable force ground him and instead, retreat with the safety of his Alpha.

 

And then they saw her.

Stiles wanted to pee his pants.

From the water a woman emerged. She had floor length copper red hair and a skeletal, pale green-tinged face that stood out against the tattered grey dress. Her bare feet skimmed over the water.

The pack took a step back, all except Lydia who remained rooted to the edge of the dock.

Stiles felt the hairs on his neck stand as the Banshee opened her mouth wide. No one had time to do anything as she let out and an unearthly sound.

The werewolves fell to their knees, screaming in pain. Stiles felt a strong disturbance in his ears and if he was perturbed and affected by it he couldn’t imagine the pain the werewolves must have been in.

“Lydia!” Stiles shouted to get the girl to do something.

But Lydia wasn’t paying any attention. All she did was sit down on the dock, the tips of her shoes grazing the top of the lake. Stiles became acutely aware that Lydia wasn’t herself at the moment, but thankfully that’s what they needed.

The Banshee stopped screaming. She paused in front of Lydia, her long nails that looked like claws, stroked the side of Lydia’s face.

Jackson and Allison tried to step forward, but Derek told them no.

“What’s happening to them?”

“Lydia is speaking to it.” Derek said.

“So what do we do?”

“We wait.”

Meeting a Banshee wasn’t as exciting as Stiles thought it would at be. Sure he was eternally grateful he wasn’t meeting his demise at the hand of the Wailing Woman, but seriously this was getting boring.

He was leaning his weight on Cora as he was trying to practice his Moonwalker magic. He was careful to throw the mountain ash in the direction away of the werewolves, but he wasn’t being very successful as only pinches of it were being released. Man, this was useless if this was all he could create.

“Ow.” Erica whined as a few specks hit her.

Stiles stopped. “Sorry.”

“How long is this going to take?” Cora groaned, rolling her entire head.

“It’s only been a little more than half an hour.” Boyd commented beside Scott and Isaac.

“Which is more than we can afford,” Derek answered, who had refused to sit down. “We need to get going in about fifteen minutes, if we want to sneak back into the castle.”

“Who's going to be the one to wake her up?” Isaac asked.

Luckily, they didn’t need to. Everyone became alert as Lydia gasped. It appeared she was going to scream but then the Banshee placed her sickly clawed hands over Lydia’s mouth, shushing her. Lydia held in the scream and breathed calmly.

The Banshee removed her hands slowly and looked at Lydia expectantly.

“What? No!” Lydia stood to her feet.

The Banshee floated close to her.

“Lydia?” Jackson asked.

“No! You can’t!”

“Lydia.” Jackson tried again. “What’s going on?”

“The Banshee it’s asking for repayment.”

“Repayment? For what?”

“For giving me instruction. I said no! You can’t.”

“What type of repayment?”

“...Death.”

Lydia stepped toward others just in time when the Banshee began to scream. The wail was much stronger than the last. Stiles felt as if his ears had been stuffed with nails. He fell to one knee and looked around at the nearly unconscious werewolves, who were bleeding from their ears. The only one who was unaffected was Lydia who was telling the Banshee to stop.

The Banshee pushed Lydia to the side. The girl fell to the ground.

The Banshee made it’s way to Derek. The Hufflepuff dragged himself by his claws toward the creature. Stiles knew the idiot wanted to kill the creature. But he was compromised, he could barely lift himself. Derek was going to get himself killed. They all were.

Heat flared underneath Stiles’ skin. It oozed like a heated wax candle starting from his chest. And then Stiles’ felt _it_. His hand outstretched toward the Banshee. Mountain ash encircled her. A thump sounded. The Banshee hissed against the barrier. Her hollowed eyes pointed at Stiles. She screamed again.

Stiles stood, his body moving on autopilot. His hand outstretched again. A giant gust of mountain ash materialized behind him. It flowed like a river, heading toward the Banshee and circling around her throat. The creature stopped screaming. It coughed as it struggled to breathe. Stiles hand mimicked the motion of crushing her throat..

_“Stiles!”_

The Moonwalker heard his name briefly, but he couldn’t stop. He walked forward until he was just outside the barrier. He let the mountain ash fall from the creature’s throat. He watched with sick fascination as the creature had a giant oozing black mark at it’s neck. He smirked. Mountain ash popped like fireworks around him and without thinking, he sent the ash toward the creature with only one thought of impaling the creature through the head and chest.

_“STILES!”_

Stiles sucked a breath and all the mountain ash crashed against the ground. A gentle breeze flew by. The moutain ash rolled into the lake. The Banshee didn’t look back. It screeched in pain and made for the water where it disappeared.

Stiles fell to his hands and knees. He felt strange. Sweat beaded heavily on his forehead and his chest. His body felt like it was on fire. “Stiles.” Stiles looked up. Derek’s eyes shook as he crawled toward him on his hands and knees. Stiles focused on the dry blood at Derek’s ears. He had already healed. That was good.

His muscles ached. All Stiles wanted to do was collapse against Derek, but Derek’s broad hands cupped Stiles’ jaw, preventing him from doing so.

Stiles breath hitched when Derek leaned in closer.

Was Derek going to…

“Your eyes. They’re _red_.”

It took a while for Stiles to register what the the Alpha had said. “Like bleeding?”

Derek didn’t take his gaze off Stiles as the rest of the pack began to gather their bearings and head toward them. “No. It’s like, smoke falling from your eyes.”

Stiles didn’t understand. He headed to the edge of the lake to look at his reflection. His short buzz cut was drenched in sweat, beads fell down into the lake, his skin was pale, and just as Derek said, his eyes had tendrils of red smoke flowing inside his eyes and seeping out. He was brought back to a vision he had on a full moon in a dungeon underneath the Stilinski Manor. His eyes were exactly the same as that woman he had seen in his dream.

“Stiles?”

“It’s not going away.” Stiles wheezed.

Derek reached up again. His thumb pressed underneath Stiles’ left eye. “Does it hurt?”

Stiles couldn’t feel anything abnormal with his eyes. If Derek hadn’t mentioned it, he would have continued on like normal, but what he could feel was warmth across his body. It wasn’t as intense as when he was attacking the Banshee, but it was uncomfortable, to the point he wanted to shed his red hoodie. So he did. Derek cast a spell on it, placing it inside the pocket of his leather jacket.

“Dude.” Scott rushed to him. “Your eyes!”

“I know.”

“You almost killed a Banshee.”

“I know, Scott.”

“We need to go.” Lydia spoke.

“What did the Banshee tell you?” Stiles asked, not wanting to leave unless they had vital information.

“A lot, I’ll explain on the way. We need to go now before we get caught sneaking back into the castle.”

Everyone nodded.

Stiles stood and nearly collapsed, Derek caught him by one arm. “Maybe, you shouldn’t fly.”

“I’m good.” Stiles assured. He walked slowly to where the group had left their brooms. He bent over to pick his broom. The world spinned as he came back up. Derek steadied him as he mounted his broom. The broom shook. Ok, nope.

“Uh go in the back this time.” Stiles said. _In case I fall_...was left unspoken, but Derek understood.

Derek mounted the broom behind Stiles. Stiles hated flying away from the seat cushion. The balance was always off and it tended to fly slower, but maybe that’s what he needed at the moment.

Everyone flew back into the sky. Stiles only half paid attention to what Lydia was saying as he focused on recovering. He did hear though that Lydia would be able to control her powers a bit more and really that’s all that mattered.

The cold air was a relief on his warm skin, but then as they flew closer to Hogwarts, something sharp of cold ice and gloom pierced inside him. He felt despair; hopelessness and amidst it all, he knew that there was something horribly wrong.

A cry of terror pierced the night air. It came from Allison and she swerved dangerously out of course.

It sent Stiles’ heart leaping and he involuntarily clenched at Derek’s thigh, just to check he was still there. Something dark and terrible whipped past his line of vision and the icy coldness that pierced his skin told him enough.

“Dementors!” Jackson cried.

There were over a dozen of them swarming around them like bats, their black, spectral clothing inky against the cloudy dark afternoon.

“Everyone fly low!” Scott yelled.

The group plummeted to fly closer to the forest.

“Lydia!” Jackson shouted. “Allison!” Scott cried beside him. Both flew toward their girlfriends and made the girls mount their broom as they weren’t as experienced as the Quidditch players who could fly with ease. For that same reason, Erica tried to fly toward Boyd, but he was too far from her. Stiles ignored the dizziness from his magic and ignored the beginning of a familiar woman’s scream at the back of his mind to fly close to Boyd.

“Boyd!” Stiles cried, horribly worried.

A Dementor flew by them. Derek’s arms snaked around his waist tightly as they flipped upside down. Stiles made a sweeping turn and saw Boyd again coming up right behind them, pale-faced but determined to out-fly the cloaked monsters.

Stiles called for him again.

Boyd swerved toward them, barely avoiding a Dementor on his tail.

The pack was trying to fly toward them and put themselves at risk, but Stiles and Derek would have none of that.

“Go!” _ **“Go!”**_

With an Alpha’s command mixed with a Moonwalker one, the others had no choice but to obey.

As Boyd came around, Stiles flew by him, matching the pace of Boyd’s broom, which felt painfully slow compared to Stiles’ Firebolt.

“Get on!” Stiles shouted over the rush of wind and groans of the dementors.

“What!” Boyd and Derek shouted together.

“With three of us on this broom, it’s still faster than yours. We don’t have time to argue, get on!”

Boyd growled in frustration, but he reached out to Derek’s outstretched arm and hauled himself behind Derek, letting his broom fall useless to the ground.

“I’ll buy you a new one.” Derek assured.

Boyd’s thanks were drowned out in the whistle of the wind as Stiles shot doward to dive into the trees. Stiles thanked that midnight runs with the pack that had prepared him to fly through the forest. He paid no mind to Boyd and Derek who loudly objected to Stiles’ flying like a madman who was going to kill them.

Stiles shouted to them that he knew with an eighty percent chance of what he was doing as he made impossible turns avoiding trees and dementors alike.

The screaming in Stiles’ head got louder, _“Stiles! It burns! I’m sorry! Stiles—”_  Derek’s grip on his waist tightened, distracting him. Out of the corner of his Chaser trained eye he could see Scott with Allison in front of him, pulling up beside them with dementors in tow.

The Chasers flew around each other, swimming through tree trunks and suspended foliage.

Stiles flew deeper into the forest, and it almost seemed like they were going to get away as they couldn’t see the dementors around them.

When they slowed down and were ready to land, they saw the rest of the pack.

“Where’s Jackson and Lydia?” Derek asked.

Right on cue Jackson and Lydia came out of the forest followed by six dementors. Jackson barreled into all of them, sending them in a brief spiral towards the ground.

Stiles shrieked and he could have sworn he heard Jackson’s cry over his own.

Stiles couldn’t avoid the crash, so he did his best to lower the height so they wouldn’t have to fall far, while the werewolves would heal quickly, he sure wouldn’t.

The tail of Stiles’ Firebolt caught on a branch and soon much like the others they tumbled to the ground, rocks and roots digging painfully into their bodies.

Cora spewed such foul profanities about Jackson’s Slytherin courage—which of course was non-existent.

The group slowly tried to get up. The screaming in Stiles’ head was back. Stiles felt the biting cold again and he glanced around as the trees froze into gray ice.

The pack was hopelessly surrounded.

He felt someone grab his arm in a tight grip, hauling him to his feet. It was Derek.

“We should run for it.” Erica said frantically.

“Run?” Scott shouted, voice nearly cracking. “In case you haven’t noticed, they’re all around us!”

And they were. Stiles couldn’t hold it anymore. His eyes rolled up into his head right before he saw Isaac, Allison, and Cora collapse and have a fit on the ground. He was drowning in cold as if he was submerged in water. And then, from far away, he heard the most terrible, terrified, morseful, pleading scream. _Mom._

Suddenly, a Dementor came charging at them. He stumbled to the ground, his head smashing against the moldy dirt. His breath caught in his throat; he couldn’t breathe. He heard Derek cry out his name and through Stiles’ bleary lids he could see the helplessness in Derek’s eyes.

The Dementors closed around them, but Derek stood firm, protecting his pack.

Stiles watched as Derek’s nostrils flared and then he took out his wand.

_“Expecto Patronum!”_

Derek summoned a patronus. Stiles through half consciousness could see a wolf emerging. Typical. Stiles thought. The wolf charged in a blinding ray of light. The dementors scattered and retreated. The patronus turned. It walked regally toward Derek, and Stiles could see that in it’s pure light, two rings were around the wolf’s eyes. Slowly, the wolf paraded in a proud fashion with head up high, ears forward, eyes secure and direct, and tail raised.

The wolf then vanished.

Derek sighed and crouched by Stiles. He lifted him, both hands cradling his face. “They’re still red.”

Stiles hands went to his face, holding Derek’s hands. “Are they?”

The rest of the pack groaned from the floor. Scott was the first to shoot up, his eyes glowing.

“The aurors are coming, we better move,” Scott ordered, grabbing a nearly unconscious Allison and flinging her over his shoulder.

Suddenly, they heard a howl and then something running through the trees.

They were all prepared to fight, but then they saw it was Ethan. “Aiden’s diverting them off course, c’mon.” He took in the sight of the groggy pack and he growled. He went over to Cora, helping her too her feet.

All the others helped each other and ran after Ethan back to the castle. Luckily, when they reached the passageway, the pack was starting to feel much better. But as they made it through, everyone surrounded Stiles. Stiles understood it was because of his red eyes. They needed to get back to the dormitory to look through his book and figure out how to hide them.

“Oh no.” Scott muttered.

“What?”

“I can smell your dad, he’s heading this way.”

“Crap.”

“What do we do?”

“We need something to shock you,” Lydia said. “Your body is still running on adrenaline. We need something to stop you breathing so harshly.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, but he was sure with the red hazing over his entire eyes, the pack didn’t notice. “If the dementors weren’t shocking enough...I doubt anything will.”

“Your dad is turning the corner,” Scott spoke unhelpfully.

It was then Ethan forcefully grabbed Stiles by the back of his head to press his lips against him. Stiles eeped, hands coming straight into the air in shock. Ethan pulled back with a smug grin. “Gone.”

Derek growled, pushing Ethan away as Stiles stood there motionless.

“Hey it worked.” Ethan defended.

“Stiles?”

Everyone’s head snapped as they saw the Head Auror approach.

“What are you all doing here?” He asked.

“Heading to the Great Hall to eat.” Stiles said quickly.

“Ok?” John questioned, eyes narrowing at his son’s haste and their messy, muddy attire. “Well have fun.”

He left the group and everyone released a breath.

 

Derek’s head snapped to Ethan, but the Gryffindor was hiding behind Scott. Derek was not jealous. He wasn’t he repeated. So, he knew he was misdirecting his anger when he turned to Stiles.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” Derek practically growled.

“Done what?”

“Used your Moonwalker magic so carelessly.”

“What?” Stiles voice rose quickly. “I’m sorry, but that little fairy dust I pulled back there saved our lives. That Banshee was going to murder you!”

“It was reckless.”

“Oh like you putting yourself in front of soul sucking dementors wasn’t?

“That was different, I knew how to defend us.”

“Well so did I.”

Derek stepped into Stiles’ personal space. “No you didn’t. You acted on instinct.”

“Yeah! Instinct that saved us!” Stiles shouted, turning red in the face.

Derek barely registered the pack slowly slinking away so they wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire of the argument. “And almost blew our cover.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. I can’t be a Gary Stu with my magic and have full control of it, Mr. Asshole! We can’t all be perfect magic casters with full fledged patronuses!”

“Ugh, why can’t you just understand that I want you to be more careful.”

Stiles scoffed. “Yeah equating caution in our trouble causing group could have us killed in case you haven’t noticed.”  

“Why are you acting irrational?”

“I’m irrational! Says the guy who bit teens for his little army.”

Derek bit back the growl and the urge to exert his dominance. Derek turned his back on Stiles. and instead of heading to Great Hall like the others, headed back to the Hufflepuff dorm. The dormitory was empty.

Thank Merlin.

He collapsed on his bed, letting the adrenaline from the day wash out of his system. But he wasn’t calming down as his mind kept flashing to Ethan grabbing Stiles and kissing him. It wasn’t even a real kiss, Derek tried to rationalize but he couldn’t help but feeling angry.

_That should have been him…_

And it was that thought that had Derek reaching into his pants and having the angriest wank of his life.

Unperceived by him, Stiles was doing the exact same thing in his own room.

 

|~~***~~|

 

“Soooo,” Isaac trailed awkwardly by Stiles as they sat together waiting for Transfiguration classes to start.

“What?” Stiles asked with little emotion.

“It’s been a week and you haven’t spoken to Derek.”

“Your point?”

“It’s been a week.”

Erica groaned beside him. “What Isaac is trying to say is that we have been dealing with an unbearable Derek Hale for a week. When are you guys going to forgive each other? We can’t stand this anymore.”

“When he apologizes.”

“Was it really his fault?” Isaac asked.

“No. And it wasn’t mine, but he started it so he has to end it.”

Boyd laughed. “Like that’s going to happen.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Well it’s going to have to.”

Erica whined. “C’mon, Stiles. You do it! Have you ever dealt with a grumpy moody Derek?”

Stiles snorted. “Yeah, I have. First four years of Hogwarts. And I don’t care.”

“You evil little shit.” Isaac commented.

“Thanks Isaac. I live to meet my daily quota of evil shittyness.”

“Are you guys talking about Derek and Stiles?” Jackson questioned, coming into the class and sitting behind them.

Stiles huffed, slamming his head on his desk.

“Hey Stilinski.” Jackson called.

“What do you want Jackson?”

“Many things, a new pair of gloves and robes but at the top of the list is for you to get the stick out of Derek’s ass.”

Danny frowned sitting next to his best friend. “I thought Patchouli Veela cologne was at the top of the list.”

Jackson rolled his eyes. “Ok, maybe Derek is second, but seriously Stiles do something.”

“Why aren’t you having this conversation with Derek?” Stiles finally replied.

“Because he tried to rip our heads off when we tried.” Isaac stated in horror.

Luckily, Professor Blake walked into the class at that exact moment. She looked a little worn and tired, but it most likely had to do that she was grading their papers last night. And true to Stiles’ prediction, the woman pulled out rolls of parchment and began passing back their paper.

Stiles unrolled his sheet and gaped when he saw a giant P at the top. What? How did he get a Poor for his best subject. He turned to his right and saw that Isaac had gotten a giant fat T on his. To his left, Erica had gotten a Dreadful.

What was going on?

Blake coughed. “I am severely disappointed in the lot of you. This is OWLs coursework and I expect the best, not late last minute essays. As such, I’m giving the class a chance to redo the essay under the following rule that I will only allow a letter grade difference. So some may wish to redo the essay or you may keep your grade.”

“Nothing in the essay is marked though.” Erica spoke up. “How do we know what we did wrong?”

“I didn’t mark any of the essays because every part was atrocious, so just start all over. The essay is due next time we meet.”

“That’s in two days!” Malia shouted from the corner of the room.

“I’m aware of how to read a calendar. Now you may use this class period to start.” She turned her back on them and went to her desk where she drank from her usual vial.

Stiles turned to his friends with disbelief on what was their lives. But no one complained and began to work on their essay, despite the fact that everyone in the class knew they had done at least acceptable work.

Stiles, finished rewriting his essay as class ended. He headed to Potions where Scott, Cora, and Allison gave him the same talk as the Hufflepuffs. He ignored them in favor to pay attention to Harris’ lecture.

He noticed that Harris was acting oddly though. His mood was much sourer than usual. He gave detention to anyone who even dared to make the slightest sound. He passed back pop quizzes with a grimace on his face. And he made both houses lose about thirty points in one sitting. What the hell was wrong with Harris? As they left, Stiles joked with Scott and Cora that Harris was probably in cahoots with Blake and their evil society.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Derek paced inside the Room of Requirement with a frown that took up eighty percent of his face. He hadn’t meant to lose his temper with Stiles and now he was far too proud (embarrassed) to go up to Stiles and apologize since he knew he had caused the drift between them. And the separation was unbearable, he actually found himself missing the annoying Slytherin.

So he hoped his plan, would work. He had gone to Scott for help to make this work. Scott had been more than pleased and dropped the hostility he had been sending Derek for the past week for causing such anger in his best friend. So Scott figured out a brilliant plan where he made the Room of Requirement function like the passageways that Allison found. Scott and Allison found portraits more than willing to help them break school rules, so now each House had a portrait outside their dormitory that led back to the Room of Requirement with no sneaking around required.

So here was Derek, waiting outside the portrait of a young woman wearing a fourteenth century blue dress while reading a book. “Don’t worry, he’s coming.” The portrait said.

Derek pretended he did not just sag in relief.

The portrait door swung open and in came Stiles. Derek watched as the other portraits left to give them privacy.

“You’re not Scott.” Stiles narrowed his eyes.

“No.”

“He said to come here.”

“I was the one who said you should.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to...” _Merlin!_ Why was this so difficult.

“Wanted to?” Stiles smiled.

Derek’s frown increased. “If you’re going to be smug about it, I’m not going to.”

Stiles let out a few chuckles before trying to contort his face into that of seriousness. It wasn’t working that well because a few seconds later, Stiles was laughing again.

“Sorry. I know what you are trying to do. It’s just I made a bet with Erica, she didn’t think you would apologize. Oh by the way apology accepted. Just. Oh man. Erica owes me a weeks worth of licorice wands.”

Derek mulled it over. “A week’s worth for you is a month for a normal person.”

“Yup.” Stiles smiled again, making Derek’s heart beat faster. “Dude, chill out. I was over it about a few days ago. We’re cool.”

“I just wished I could have handled it better.”

“Dude, no. I get it. All of us were running on red alert, it was bound to set someone off.”

“Right.” Derek wasn’t going to mention that he was talking about his jealousy not his outburst per say, but he was going to let Stiles think what he wanted to.

“So um…” Stiles suddenly got awkward. “I was actually meaning to talk to you about something.”

Stiles made his way over to the couch and sat down. “Back in the forest, you were the only one able to stop the dementor. Why?”

“I knew the spell.”

“No, I mean why did you know the spell in the first place?”

Derek sighed sitting down, not wanting to share that with anyone. He knew Cora was aware he could cast a patronus but even she didn’t press why Derek had spent the better part of his second and third year practicing the spell like a madman.

“Sorry...you don’t have to say anything—”

But Stiles, knew so much of him. And if past experiences proved, Derek knew he could trust Stiles with almost anything. “I was having nightmares my first three years of Hogwarts. They involved me doing something unmentionable before I came to Hogwarts.”

“The blue eyes?”

Derek avoided Stiles gaze to look into the fireplace. “Yeah.” He looked down at his hands. “And my family. I wasn’t ever social. I spent my time in the library and I found a book on patronuses. They’re not only used for defense against dementors, they’re messengers, protectors, and they bring light. Which was something I needed to get to sleep at the time. It worked.”

“Do you still use it?”

“Not as often. The gift Erica, Isaac, and Boyd gave to me takes care of them.”

They were silent, until Stiles spoke. “Can you teach me?”

Derek considered it, looking into Stiles’ determined face, but then he huffed. “I already promised I would help you in DADA right?”

Stiles grinned. “Awesome.” And then the grin fell. “I want to protect myself against them.”

“Any sane person would.”

“No. I mean. I’ve been dead scared of them since I was kid. My dad took me to Azkaban shortly after my mother died because he couldn’t find anyone to watch me. He probably broke hundreds of regulations but he’s the Head Auror so no one said anything. But when we were there all I could hear was my mother screaming. I watched her die you know and I have that memory locked up in my head. And then the dementors just find a way each time to unlock that memory. They’re the only things that can do that and I hate them and I’m scared of them so much for that.”

“I’ll teach you, don’t worry.” Derek paused. “You said your frightened?”

“Yeah.”

“To the point that a boggart would take its shape?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time. A boggart at my grandparents turned into one, made me pass out.”

“Ok. Meet me back here tomorrow at eight.”

 

|~~***~~|

 

At eight o’clock on Thursday evening, Stiles climbed into the portrait to the Room of Requirement. It was dark so Stiles had to light the fireplace with his wand and a few candles. Derek turned up, carrying a trunk underneath his arm. He threw it in the room without struggle.

Stiles jumped back as the trunk heaved.

“Boggart,” said Derek, stripping off his leather jacket and throwing it on the couch. “Professor Argent found it for me. It was hiding behind the girl’s bathroom on the third floor. It's the nearest we'll get to a real dementor. The boggart will turn into a dementor when he sees you, so we'll be able to practice on him.”

"Okay," said Stiles, trying to sound as though he wasn't apprehensive at all and merely glad that Derek had found such a good substitute for a real dementor. “So now what Professor Derek?” Stiles said trying to lighten the mood.

“You can start by taking out your wand.”

“Duh...right.”

“The spell I am going to try and teach you is highly advanced magic, Stiles—well beyond ordinary Wizarding Level. It—”

“I’m aware of that Derek.”  

Derek continued with the lesson. “The patronus is a positive force a projection of the very things that the dementor feeds upon—hope, happiness, the desire to survive—but it cannot feel despair, as real humans can, so the dementors can't hurt it. But conjuring one is difficult and conjuring a full-fledged patronus more so.”

“How do you conjure it?”

“With the spell and concentrating on a single happy thought.”

Stiles grinned, despite his mother’s death, Stiles was filled with happy thoughts. This should be no problem. “Ok, I think I got one. The incantation is expecto patronum, right?”

“Yeah, try casting it before I release the boggart.”

Stiles nodded. _“Expecto Patronum.”_ Barely a wisp of silvery gas emerged from his wand. “Ah! Look. I made something!”

“Great, Stiles.” Derek smiled. Stiles turned away at the praise. “Right, want to try with the real thing?”

“Bring it.” Stiles said determined, moving in front of the trunk.

Derek nodded and with click, the trunk popped up. A Dementor rose quickly and sweeped toward Stiles. Stiles tried to utter the spell, but it fell weak on his lips as he heard his mother.

_“Stiles! It burns! Make it stop!”_

_“Mom!”_

_“Turn away sweetie! Stiles!”_

_.._.

Stiles jumped nearly knocking heads with Derek. “I passed out didn’t I?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck.”

“Are you—”

“I’m fine.”

“Stiles, you know I didn’t expect you to do it the first time. No one can.”

“I know, it’s just. I don’t like hearing her scream.”

“We can always try another time.”

“No. I can do this.” Stiles found another happy memory, when he got into the Slytherin Quidditch Team. He focused on that. “Ready.”

Derek seemed reluctant, but he opened the trunk again.

The room went cold and dark; the Dementor charged at him. _“Expecto Patronum!”_ Stiles yelled.

_“Stiles! Please baby turn away! Mommy loves you!”_

_“Mom, no!”_

_“It burns too much sweetie. I’m burning. It’s too much. I can’t make it stop. Stiles!”_

“Stiles! Stiles!”

Stiles was shaken awake and he groaned as he looked up at the ceiling. It took Stiles a while to register he was on the floor. “Can we try again?”

Derek nodded. Two more times and not a single result. After the third, Stiles shouted, ready to fling his wand across the room. “Screw this! It just doesn’t make sense. I’m a happy go lucky guy. Why can’t I do this! You can! And you're the most depressed person I know! How can someone like you have a happier memory than me!” Stiles froze. “Derek. I didn’t meant that. I’m sorry. I—”

“Forget it.”

“Derek?”

“What’s your thought?”

“What?”

“What have you been thinking about?”

“Everything, pranks, Quidditch, flying, it’s not working.”

“They are nowhere near happy enough.”

“Thanks.” Stiles muttered sarcastically.

“No, _just._ Do you remember when Scott was trying to find his anchor when he first got bit? And he thought the anchor was you?”

“But it wasn’t. I was just unintentionally controlling him. It was Allison in the end.”

“That’s because while the friendship between you is strong, it’s not something that Scott considered strong enough to hold him. Scott assumes, everyone has a best friend. That everyone has a Stiles.”

“But not everyone has an Allison.”

“Right. Scott thinks the love he feels for her is different than anything in the world and that’s what you're memory needs to do. It needs to be special for you, it can’t be a memory that someone else can identify with. It has to be you.”

Stiles looked up at Derek. “What’s yours?”

“It’s not a memory per say, but it is the happiest thought I can think of.”

“What is it?”

Stiles was surprised that Derek didn’t hesitate to tell him. “My parents being alive and the thought of them being proud of me, even after all the shit I pulled. That’s why my patronus is my mother. She could turn into a wolf and my patronus looks exactly like she did.”

Stiles looked at Derek for a long time, judging his gaze. He could tell he was reminiscing. He didn’t want to disturb him so it took him a while to finally speak up. “So just a happy thought? It doesn’t have to be real?”

“No.”

Stiles was hit with one quickly. “I want to try one more time.”

Derek nodded. Stiles appreciated he wasn’t being babied.

Stiles focused on the thought. His mother. And the thought was simple, his mother still alive lying with him in bed as they played connect the dots on their moles just like when they were kids.

The trunk popped open. The screaming inside his head began, except this time it sounded soft, like white noise through a thick wall. Stiles shouted the spell and a huge silver shadow came bursting out of the end of Stiles’ wand, hovering between them. Stiles gaped but he was tired from the previous attempts so his spell faded.

The dementor came at him, but Derek stepped in front. The boggart changed shape and Stiles saw a young woman who looked eerily similar to Allison. _“Riddikulus.”_ There was a loud crack and the Boggart returned to the trunk.

“You did it.”

“I did!” Stiles shouted and bounced over to Derek. He hugged the older teen without even thinking about it, but quickly realized his mistake when he felt Derek stiffen under his hold. He pulled back abruptly, but he still held onto Derek’s shoulders.

“Sorry I um—” His words trailed awkwardly as Derek captured his gaze. They looked at each other for a long, tenuous second, somehow moving closer until they were only a breath apart. Stiles couldn’t believe it, was this happening? Stiles felt Derek’s warm puff of air at his lips and Stiles was leaning further in, almost closing the gap.

There was a noise of a portrait slamming against the wall.

“Hey guys!” Isaac called out. Stiles felt like water had just been doused over their heads because he and Derek jumped back several feet.

Stiles blinked, heading over to the couch to turn his body away from Derek and hide the flush around his cheeks.

“Why are your hearts beating so fast?” Erica called shortly after with Boyd appearing behind her as they jumped down. “Were you two fighting again?”

“No.” Derek said without emotion, but Stiles heard Derek’s raw voice clearly. It made him flush even more.

“Really cause…” Isaac said looking between them.

“We were practicing spells.” Stiles said quickly. “We made up already.”

“Really? Thank God!” Erica cheered, but her smile fell when Stiles told her she owed him licorice wands.

The Hufflepuffs loitered around the room. Derek narrowed his eyes at them. “What do you guys want?” Derek snarled.

Boyd smirked secretly at Derek. “Scott and Lydia wanted to call a pack meeting about what’s been happening.”

Derek sighed. Stiles looked at him. He was tense all over, probably regretting what he was about to do. Derek finally went over to the recliner chair and sat down, broodily staring at the fireplace. At least that was the same.

“Oh right!” Stiles called out suddenly. “Scott told me that this morning.” Stiles went over to his bag and pulled out several folders.

“Are those auror files?” Isaac asked.

“Yup.”

“How did you, you know what I’m not even going to ask.”

“Wise choice Isaac.”

Luckily, they didn’t have to wait long. The others appeared in about fifteen minutes, Jackson the last one climbing through.

They began with what Lydia had learned. “Well, a lot but not much.”

“What does that even mean?” Cora questioned with distaste.

“That I think I should be able to tell when someone is going to die without screaming now. The scream is merely a way to drown out other noise so I can listen to the spirit side on what’s happening, but only if something is close to touching the spirit world, which basically means I’ll only be able to tell a few minutes ahead, an hour at most, when someone is going to die.”

“Those minutes could mean saving someone’s life. Have you had any visions?” Derek spoke.

“Sort of. After, speaking to the Banshee I’ve been able to overhear spirit conversations, and I keep hearing this strange noise.”

“What noise?” Derek questioned.

Lydia clicked her tongue by the roof of her mouth.

“It sounds like a camera flash,” Jackson said.

Erica snorted. “You would know, wouldn’t you Jackson?”

Jackson flipped her the bird.

“Ok so what?” Scott asked. “Are the spirits taking pictures of themselves in the spirit world?”

“No,” Stiles interrupted, looking for the specific file. “Here. My dad intercepted a school owl carrying a bunch of pictures.”

“Of what?” Boyd questioned.

“Pictures of Garrett’s, Violet’s, and Carrie’s mutilated bodies.” Stiles spoke grimly.

The pack looked horrified. “Some sicko werwolf is sending pictures of dead bodies?” Erica gagged.

Allison’s eyes opened wide. “The question is to whom are they sending them to?”

Stiles looked at the file. “My dad wrote down the family name Fuoco with a bunch of question marks, I’m guessing they don’t know what that is.”

Allison looked frightened.

“What?” Scott placed a hand on his girlfriend’s thigh.

“Fuoco it’s a code name for an Italian family by the name of Alfero. They’re a family of werewolf hunters and they go by that name because their most preferred method of killing werewolves is by fire; chaining them all to a post and burning them at the stake and then they like to collect the claws of the werewolves that are left in the ashes. The claws are the only part of a werewolf that doesn’t burn. The aurors aren’t going to figure out who they are though. From my knowledge, hunters are the only ones who know their code name and no hunter would ever sell them out.”

“Why would a werewolf send pictures of werewolf killings to hunters?” Lydia asked with a tilt of her head.

No one had an answer.

“On another note,” Scott spoke up. “Derek and I were able to trace a scent around the crime scene.”

“Of the murderer?” Stiles felt himself perk up.

“No,” Scott shook his head. “It smelled like a Potion’s classroom.”

Stiles furrowed his brows and wrote down that piece of information. “Do we have anything else?”

No one spoke up.

Stiles ran his hand over his buzz cut and went over the auror file’s again, hoping to find anything pointing to solving the crime. But it was practically pointless.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Stiles kept sneaking glances at Derek, sitting right next to him. It was breakfast time, but instead of stuffing his face with bacon as he usually did, Stiles spent his time remembering the almost kiss with Derek Hale. His heart skipped a few beats, and he wondered if Derek could sense it, because Derek glanced up at him for a moment. Derek caught his eye before turning back to reading the letter that Laura had sent Derek for the morning.

Stiles flushed, trying to calm his breathing. Scott sent him a strange look. Stiles avoided it and looked back at his plate. He figured he should start shoving the eggs in his mouth before his stomach tortured him later in the afternoon.

He still couldn’t believe he had almost kissed him! It had to be a fluke right? Some trick of the light. Why would Derek want to kiss him?

Stiles was distracted as he heard Erica coming into the Great Hall with Boyd. It was hard to miss as they stopped at the entrance, shouting, well Erica was shouting. They were starting to get a crowd and even the aurors seemed interested as they watched the pair back and forth. Erica’s anger seemed to increase as Boyd replied to her in passive much quieter tones.

“Should we intervene?” Scott asked to Stiles.

“Do you want to be in between Erica?”

“Merlin no.”’

Their attention fell back to the pair. “What are they even arguing about?” Cora asked

“Boyd caught Erica trying to sneak into the crime scene where the aurors have it closed off. He’s angry that she was being careless and Erica is saying she can do what she wants.” Isaac informed.

“Ah.” The Gryffindors and Slytherin said in tandem.

Then Boyd did raise his voice which was rare and totally out of character and then he was marching away from Erica. Erica huffed and then headed over to the table.

“What?!” She shouted when she sat down.

“Nothing.” Stiles and Isaac said in tandem.

He avoided looking at Erica and let his eyes roam around the Great Hall. He saw Matt speaking with a few older students who were holding his camera hostage. That wasn’t anything new.

Stiles turned away as Ethan and Aiden sat next to them.

Jackson, Danny, and Lydia came to sit next to them shortly after. Danny sat across from the twins. Stiles nearly spat his pumpkin juice as he saw Danny of all people glare. Ethan sagged and looked down at his plate for a moment and then got up, leaving. His twin seemed to hold it together a little longer, but then Lydia glared up at him. Aiden rolled his eyes but went after his brother.

“You’re angry at Ethan?” Stiles couldn’t help but ask Danny.

“Yes.” He said curtly.

“Why?”

“He left Hogwarts for weeks and didn’t tell me anything.”

“Uh…” Stiles trailed.

Danny sighed. “We had been dating in secret for about three weeks before he left without saying anything. You can guess why I’m upset.”

Which, ok. Yeah, Danny had every reason to be angry. He turned back to his food but stopped a large scoop of hashbrowns headed toward his mouth as he felt Derek tense beside him.

“Derek?”

Derek merely handed him Laura’s letter.

_Cora and Der-Bear_

_I always love getting confidential auror letters sent to my work place—which I just returned to by the way after being in a coma—detailing how you have been sneaking out of the castle and interfering with auror work. I’m going to pretend you have good reason and I would have sent a howler to both of you with the most embarrassing stories and profanities, but I’ve been meaning to share some information with you that has me getting worried._

_Peter is healing._

_I expected him to heal slowly, I didn’t expect him to wake not for another three years or so, but he’s healing way too quickly to be normal. I called Morrell over to examine him, just in case I was being paranoid and even she noticed the rapid change in his body. She thinks because of the fire, Peter’s body has built some sort of immunity to catatonic states—if that even makes sense. But if Peter wakes before you come back for the summer holidays, I swear I’m going to have Morrell barricade the entire house with mountain ash, and I’ll spend the nights at her place. I cannot deal with him. I want to hurt him for taking away my Alpha status, for hurting you, and I’m so sure he wants to hurt you for doing the same to him._

_So be safe please and keep your eyes open._

_On another note, if you do happen to get involved in anything life threatening, please be careful. I know you are capable of handling yourself, but I have to at least act like a responsible adult._

_Love,_

_Laura_

_P.S. I packed some cookies. Pretend they’re homemade and share them with your sister._

Stiles gave the letter back to Derek, unable to form any words. He was saved from having to say anything as a second wave of owls came into the Great Hall. Their eyes followed a large eagle owl that landed at the staff table in front of Professor Blake. It was the first time they had seen their professor smiling with so much glee as she picked up a large package.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy early Valentine's Gift for all my beautiful and wonderful readers! I will be spending this Valentine as a Galentine with friends since we are all eternally alone. 
> 
> So I wrote this in a sitting so ignore typos.
> 
> Anyway, so last semester for my English class I wrote a thesis on how the Headless Horseman in Sleepy Hollow is a tulpa (thank you spn) and in my research I came across Banshees. So Banshee's are popular in Ireland and I found it so cool how Banshee's in Ireland have red hair (Lydia!). Anyway there is this creepy place in Ireland that has a bunch of Banshee sightings, but Hogwarts is in Scotland so I made the area in Scotland. Also, I found out different people's interpretation of Banshee's powers that I will use later in my story and mix them with Harry Potter mythology along with Teen Wolf.
> 
> Also, Stiles' patronus will be revealed later in this arc. And I will make his patronus different from his animagus because patronuses can change over someone's life. Also sorry to burst people's bubble but as I started narrowing stuff I wanted for Stiles' patronus and animagus. I will say no it will not be a fox. That trope is so overused in the fandom and foxes are a bad memory for Stiles in TW canon, so no fox. As such, you can send suggestions again of what you would like to see Stiles. Be creative! No animal is too weird, just go for it! 
> 
> Now what did you think of this chapter? The almost kiss scene? Stiles' magic getting out of control? Ethan kissing Stiles? Jealous Derek? Derek being all professor-y? The killer? Peter? Any thoughts or suggestions are welcome!! 
> 
> I hope people have a nice Valentine's Day, until next time!
> 
> [MY TUMBLR](http://twinklingpaopufruit.tumblr.com/)


	34. Abuse and Uselessness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The killer is finally revealed.

After Laura’s letter, Stiles monitored Derek’s behavior closely for any signs of, well, anything un-Derek like. He was quieter than usual and he seemed to brood wherever he went. His mood sunk when Morrell approached the Hales. She conducted further inspection and learned Peter would wake a little before the Easter Holidays.

Surprise overcame Stiles when Derek sought him out to express his displeasure. Stiles shoved his crush to the side in favor of being a supportive friend. As such, Stiled left no room for argument that he would join Derek for the Easter Holidays. Derek only gave Stiles a long stare and a terse nod.

They delayed planning that delightful encounter in favor of juggling: homework, studying for OWLs, going over auror reports, and looking for clues on the murderer. No one was doing a good job on it, except Lydia (but Lydia was a freak of nature in Stiles’ opinion).

At the moment, the fifth years were slumped around the Room of Requirement, trying to work on their DADA essay. Stiles groaned, unable to bullshit a conscience answer for his paper on the _Theoretical Practice of Counter-Jinxes in Pre-Medieval Gaelic Society_.

“Allison, your father lives to entrap and drown us beneath the bane of cruel OWLs coursework.” Stiles sighed dramatically. He rested his chin on the coffee table beside Scott, who had deserted the essay five minutes prior.

Allison snorted. “I’ve never argued otherwise.” She marked something in her essay as her toes wiggled under Lydia’s thigh.

“I don’t know about you Stiles, but he can give me all the hard work he wants.” Erica said in a lewd tone.

“Ugh, Erica!” Allison gagged. She kicked Erica, who was sitting underneath them, in the head. Erica’s laughter prevented her from dodging Allison’s foot.

“Erica is only making a very valid point.” Lydia chimed. The girl twirled her wand as she practiced the _Reducto_ curse.

“Can we not talk about Allison’s dad, please!” Scott whined, covering his ears.

“I second that,” Isaac said. He checked his book to make sure he was copying the quote correctly. “And Lydia, can you please stop pointing your wand at me? It’s starting to unnerve me.” He paused to look over the coffee table.

Lydia rolled her eyes but pointed her wand in a new direction.

Jackson, Boyd, and Cora, sitting on the larger sofa, complained as Lydia’s directed her wand at them.

“Honestly!” Lydia scowled. “Practicing for DADA would be so much easier if I could still do my club.”

“That club was a piss poor excuse for Jackson and Stiles to get their butts thrown across the room.” Cora said. “Hey Boyd, pass me the chocolate frog please.”

Stiles head came off the table. “We weren’t that bad!” Stiles complained.

Jackson and Cora snorted.

Stiles made a puppy face. “Scott?”

“As your best friend, you know I can’t lie to you.”

Stiles grumbled and his head fell back on the table with a thunk. He scrunched his eyes. Oh, that was going to bruise.

“Hey,” Derek muttered from his recliner chair. He flipped a page in his own textbook and without looking up, reprimanded the Slytherin, “Watch the table.”

Stiles’ face wrinkled a few papers on the table as he glared at Derek. However, meeting Derek’s eyes caused him to remember the near kiss with the brooding Hufflepuff. Stiles’ eyes widened. Derek’s thoughts seemed to head in the same direction because he quickly went back to his book. Stiles looked away and went back to look at his essay. Oh, look at that, a new quote he could shove in without reason in his essay.

Stiles avoided Scott’s scrutinizing eyes, as Stiles worked on his essay with renewed vigor.

He couldn’t help it. Neither of them had talked about the near kiss, Derek probably hadn’t meant to anyway. That’s probably why Derek was ignoring the situation, as Stiles should have been doing.  

“Lydia?” Allison questioned, sitting up straight. Stiles wayward mind focused on the Ravenclaw.

“I can sense something.” She spoke quietly.

“Someone dying?” Derek asked. He stood.

“About to. Hold on.” Lydia closed her eyes and breathed deeply. When she opened them, the pack jumped in their seats when they saw her eyes had clouded over in a misty white. The color wasn’t vibrant like the werewolves nor was it smoking and seeping out of her eye sockets like Stiles’, but rather there was a small storm circling inside her eyes.

Lydia gasped loudly, causing the pack to jump again.

Her eyes dispersed into normalcy as she bit her lip and clutched the edges of the sofa cushion.

“What did you see?” Jackson asked, going to his girlfriend’s side. He didn’t touch her though, scared he would break her concentration.

“I haven’t been practicing enough to get visions voluntarily. I heard something. It sounded like water dripping.”

“That could be anywhere.” Boyd said.

“No, the water noise was distinct. Like it was pushing wood against stone softly...The Boathouse!” Lydia screamed. “We need to go there now!” She was already standing up and looking for her coat.

Stiles felt a pang in his heart when Lydia noticed none of them were moving. Everyone turned to Jackson. He flipped them off behind his back as he touched his girlfriend’s shoulders.

“Lydia.” Jackson said. “We can’t go.”

“Why?” Lydia asked. “I have a lead. Let’s go. Why isn’t anyone moving?! Someone is going to die if we don’t help. I thought that was the whole point of sneaking out of Hogwarts, so I could predict the deaths before they happened.”

Jackson groaned. “Lydia you are the smartest person here, you don’t need us telling you what Banshees do.”

“Of course, you don’t. Banshees predict death.”

“Predict. Not warn. It won’t matter if we go and help. The person you felt dying will die.”

“But.” Lydia paused, looking at all of them. “No! What about the vision I had of the ritual. It didn’t happen! Lycaon did not rise!”

Jackson raised his voice. “Lydia, listen to me for one goddamn second of your life. In your vision, did you count them? Did you count fifty or did it look like fifty?”

Lydia panicked. “I…”

“Because forty nine is extremely close to fifty.” Jackson licked his lips, stuttering for a moment. “All of us were talking about it and we think you saw the end of the outcome. You predicted the correct deaths that night. Nothing we do will change your visions.”

Lydia bit back tears and glared at the pack. “Then what the hell was the point of me risking our lives to learn how to use my abilities.”

“Because it will help us find the killer.” Stiles spoke. “Not stop the deaths.”

“You can’t be sure of that.”

“Lydia,” Jackson pleaded, but Jackson’s tone made it sound harsh. “You know I know every single dark creature. I have read hundreds of essays on them. Dozens on Banshees when I discovered what you were. Banshees do not warn people of death. They tell them they will die. End of story.”

Lydia gaped and looked away. “I hate this. I hate all of you. I didn’t want to even be involved, but you have to when I keep sensing these deaths.” She looked at the pack and raised her voice. “Do you think I want to _feel_ more Hogwarts students die?”

“No one does, but you need to understand. We can’t stop it.”

Lydia looked as if someone had punched her in the throat. Stiles knew she had never felt that level of powerlessness before. He wanted to comfort her but that’s not what she needed.

“Enough!” Allison interrupted. “I think Lydia gets it. Do you know how much longer the person has?”

Lydia recollected herself. “It felt like minutes.”

“Then let’s go.” Allison said taking charge. “If we see the killer we won’t intervene, but we need to go now if we want to catch them in the act.”

The pack began to stand, but Derek glared at all of them. “No, only a few us should go. A large crowd will draw attention if we try to sneak out together.”

“Ok, well who’s going then?” Isaac questioned.

“Myself and Scott and that’s it.”

Scott stood, prepared for the task.

Allison snorted. “Uh no, I’m coming too.”

“No you—”

“I’ve been trained to fight since I could walk. I’ll be more than capable of facing any dangers and let’s face it, I’m a lot more competent at keeping quiet than the rest of the pack.”

“Hey!” Erica and Cora grumbled.

“Fine,” Derek grunted, “But only us three.”

Stiles felt panic swell into his throat. He couldn’t let them go alone. They were crazy what if something happened to them. “I’m coming too—”

Derek growled and his eyes flashed red for a few seconds. _“Stiles.”_

“We know the killer is a werewolf. I’m a Moonwalker, you do the math.”

“You aren’t coming.”

“Why?” Stiles stood up, face to face with the the Alpha.

“Because I said so, now stay in the castle.”

Stiles searched for clues in Derek’s eyes. He wasn’t going to standby like Derek wanted him to. Stiles could see his own eyes reflected in Derek’s and he watched his own eyes turn to a smoky red.

_**“You will let me come with.”** _

The smoke dispersed. The feeling of it distracted him from the pack’s judgmental eyes. Stiles had never used his abilities to manipulate someone’s will so strongly before. As soon as he had done it, he regretted it.

Derek’s glazed eyes melted. His glare was replaced with disappointment. He huffed. “We’re wasting time,” Derek spoke. “The rest of you go back to your dorms. Allison, do you know of any passageways that lead to the boathouse?”

“Not that I know of.”

“We can use the Slytherin portrait.” Stiles said a little desperately as he tried to catch Derek’s eyes. “The dungeons have hatch that leads to the viaduct. We can cross it to get to the boathouse.”

“Ok, let’s go then.” Derek stated, still refusing to meet the Slytherin’s eyes. Stiles did his best to not show the hurt across his face. Whatever anger, Derek would later throw at him, Stiles knew he deserved it.

The four didn’t say a word as they crouched low running across the viaduct. It was too open of an area to properly hide, the night only concealed so much, so they had to be quick. They descended the stairs quickly and only stopped from entering the boathouse as they saw the torches lit inside.

Derek used hand signals to go around the boathouse. They crawled on the ground and pressed their backs against the wall to listen.

“That’s two more, Stilinski,” Stiles heard Auror Whittemore state with venom.

“I know.” His dad said.

“We need to close the school.” Auror Graeme urged. “That’s five students dead already.”

“Not yet.” John stated calmly. Stiles scrunched his eyes in confusion at his dad’s refusal.

“Not yet?” Auror Haigh shouted.  I’m sorry but are we looking at the same crime scene?! That’s two dead bodies with their innards gushing and spilled into that boat. We need to close the school for the safety of the students.”

“And for how long?” John said sternly. “Everything is pointing to a student. We close the school, we will stop the students from dying but as soon as we let the term resume, students will start dying again. We can’t close the school forever.” Stiles heard his dad sigh deeply. “I know students are dying but we need to stop this.”

“Well there is a way to find the killer,” Auror Parrish spoke.

“How?” John asked.

“Well all the victims have died from a werewolf’s claw marks, so it’s obviously a werewolf. What if we, I don’t know, put something in the students drinks?”

“Auror Parrish are you suggesting we drug the students.” John said scandalized.

“Sort of. If we place mountain ash in the drinks during breakfast, whoever is a werewolf will react to it. Mountain ash isn’t toxic to humans so it won’t have any affect on the others. We will only put a little bit so the werewolf will have a minor reaction, but enough for us to identify them.”

“We would be breaking protocol.” Auror Graeme said, uncomfortable with the idea.  

“Frankly, I don’t think we have a choice.” Auror Parrish said sadly.

John nodded. “Ok. Contact Marin Morrell. She is the Herbologist here, she should have a supply of it. Tell her we need a huge batch.”

“I’ll do it.” Auror Haigh agreed, pleased that the case would be moving along.

“Good. Have the Amiculum been contacted yet?” John asked.

“Yes, Sir. Should be arriving shortly.” Auror Whittemore stated.

“Ok. Let’s go file the reports now.” John sighed.

Stiles felt Scott’s hand grasp his own as he pulled him to the other side of the boathouse. They rested against the wall and peeked around the corner watching the auror team head up the stairs until they were only a dot in the background of the black sky. When they were sure they wouldn’t come back, they rushed inside the boathouse.

Stiles gagged, covering his nose. Out of all the attacks, this had to be the most violent and messy. The two boys were lying on top of each other in the boathouse. Their entire abdomens had been slashed. Pink and shredded intestines slid into the boat. Blood and bruises splattered their blank wide-eyed faces.

“That smells horrible!” Allison’s voice came muffled through the sleeve of her sweater.

“How do you think we feel?” Scott’s voice sounded nasally, as he held his nostrils between his thumb and forefinger.

Derek used the collar of his shirt to mask the smell. He knelt near the boat.

“Do any of you know them?”

Stiles answered quickly. “That’s Sean Walcott and Demarco Montana. I think they’re from Ravenclaw. Not sure what year though.”

Derek nodded, but still didn’t look at Stiles. “Scott sniff around, see if you find a scent of the murderer.”

The humans stepped back.

“I can’t smell anything. It smells like the potion classroom.” Scott grumbled after a minute.

Stiles’ eyes lit up. “The killer is hiding their scent. They know someone in the castle can track them by that. They know who we are.”

“But that’s not possible,” Allison said. “We’ve been careful.”

Stiles’ eyes couldn’t help but go back to the dead bodies. “Oh crap.”

“What?” Scott asked in a panic.

“That was the pair that was acting mean to Matt a few days ago.”  

“What do you mean?” Allison questioned.

“I saw them bullying Matt. They stole his camera and hid it. He was screaming at them to give it back.”

Scott’s mouth fell open. “Are you suggesting that Matt—?”

Stiles cut him off quickly. “—I’m not sure. It could just be a coincidence. But...”

The four jumped as they heard footsteps. With all of them preoccupied they hadn’t been paying attention to their surroundings. “People are coming.” Scott gasped.

They glanced at the entryway which was the only exit.

“Water.” Allison stated.

“What?”

She herded all the boys forward and without any hesitation shoved them into the lake. Stiles gasped at the freezing cold water, but he couldn’t even catch his breath, because Allison was urging everyone to dunk their heads.

The four swam underneath the concrete dock right as they saw a group of wizards, most likely the Amiculum from the dark violet robes, head inside.

It was quick thinking on Allison’s part to hide in the water, but they didn’t know how long they could stay as the Ministry officials came to pick up the dead bodies. Stiles was the first to begin losing oxygen. He knew a spell to be able to breathe properly, but while he could do a few Transfiguration spells nonverbally, he wasn’t so sure he could do it in Charms. He took a chance.

He pulled out his wand and pointed his wand at his face. _Merlin, please don’t let me blow my head off. Please don’t let me blow my head off._  

He gasped for air as the bubble-head charm encased his nose and mouth and extended to his jaw and throat. He turned to the others who were barely holding on. He cast the spell verbally this time on all three.

They panted into the bubble as air collected thankfully back into their lungs. They settled on watching the Amiculum’s feet as they walked back and forth. Stiles tried to catch Derek’s eyes to see everything was ok. It wasn’t. So Stiles wallowed in self-pity as he tried to keep himself afloat.

They swam upwards and crashed onto the dock, wet and shivering. They each cast warming and drying spells on themselves.

“Allison you’re brilliant and lovely but that was scary.” Scott sighed.

“Sorry.” Allison replied.

“No it worked, it was quick-thinking.” Derek said, his head resting against the wall of the boathouse.

“Stiles, what were you saying before?” Allison remembered.

“That the killer, it could be Matt. I don’t know about Garrett, but I remember him talking with Violet before she died.”

“What about Carrie Hudson?” Scott asked.

“I don’t know, that’s why I don’t want to jump to any conclusions. One’s an incident, two’s a coincidence, and three’s a pattern.”

“So we just have to watch him?” Allison stood up, once she caught her breath. Merlin, she was mental, Stiles was still recovering from his sore body from swimming that long.

“Yeah.”

Scott stood up next. “But why would it be Matt?”

“Cause he’s evil.”

Allison rolled her eyes. “I think what Scott is getting at is, if he wrote the message on the wall at the beginning of the semester, _there shall be justice._ Justice for what?”

“People who are mean to him. I don’t know. Do psychopaths need a reason for murdering people?”

“Maybe. I don’t know just. Maybe we are jumping too quickly to conclusions. All of these are werewolf killings. Matt isn’t a werewolf. He’s not is he? You can smell it if he is.” She questioned her boyfriend.

Derek stood. “We don’t know what he is. But we should be heading back to the castle.”

They nodded.

They made it back inside and Stiles watched Allison and Scott take the Slytherin portrait to the Room of Requirement to head to the Gryffindor tower.

Stiles made Derek pause before he could follow. “Derek. I uh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to use my powers against you like that. I feel terrible.”

“Whatever.”

 _“Derek.”_ Stiles pleaded.

Derek turned on his heel and shouted in a contained whisper. “I didn’t want you coming with, but you used your magic to make me do something against my will. This isn’t the commands you pulled with the rest of the pack to get them off you when you had your Moonwalker scent. This was a violation of free will. And you abused your magic for something idiotic when I was only trying to keep you safe.”

Stiles didn’t expect his temper to flare so quickly, but he always had a short fuse when it came to Derek. “Safe? I was trying to help and protect you guys. I wasn’t going to let you go on your own.”

“I wasn’t going to. I decided to take Scott because he’s the next most competent werewolf who's also extremely skilled in Defense. Allison came too because she’s trained to fight.”

“And I’m a Moonwalker.”

Derek made a growl at the back of his throat. “You don’t get it do you Stiles, I don’t want you coming with because I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Stiles’ jaw clenched. “I wouldn’t have.”

Derek dropped his shoulders to sigh. “The last hostile werewolf had you bleeding on the ground. I had to carry your body with Scott to find help, not knowing if you would make it.”

“That doesn’t count. It was the lunar eclipse, my powers were hampered and I didn’t have the skill I have now.”

“What skill?” Derek snorted. “Giving orders and mountain ash? That’s not going to help if a fight gets deadly.”

“It’s worked pretty well so far in case you forgot about the Banshee.”

Derek frowned. “I haven’t. I remember distinctly you lost control of your powers and nearly killed a creature.”

Stiles didn’t have an argument for that.

Derek groaned and rubbed his forehead. “You’re an idiot.” He said softly.

Stiles was taken back with Derek’s quick shift in character.

The silence surrounded them like Stiles’ bubble-head charm.

Stiles sighed. He couldn’t have Derek being angry with him again. He barely survived a week the last they time fought and that was a petty fight. This was the real thing. He decided to take responsibility, since he knew Derek was in the right. “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. I just can’t stand by and watch the people close to me put themselves in danger.”

Derek caught his eyes. “And I can’t either.”

Stiles heart stopped. Of course, _fuck_. Stiles _was_ an idiot. Derek’s whole family was dead. He couldn’t watch someone else die. He was trying to keep the whole pack safe. “I’m so sorry, please Derek I—” He hated how his voice cracked.

Derek took a step forward. Stiles stepped back, hitting the wall. Stiles could see everything in Derek’s face despite that the dark corridor was only lit with one working torch several feet away. Stiles inclined his head down, whispering. “I’m sorry. So sorry.”

Derek cupped Stiles’ cheek. Stiles jumped at the touch. “It’s not fine, but I get it. I’m not mad.”

Stiles swallowed saliva. “But you’re disappointed.”

Derek tilted Stiles’ head up. “A bit, but we’ve all made mistakes.” And then Derek smiled, just an upturn of lips, but Stiles knew everything was going to be ok between them. He clenched his fist beside him to physically prevent himself from now reaching out to pull the other into a kiss, but it seemed Derek wasn’t going to have any restraint.

He leaned forward and Stiles instinctually closed his eyes.

_“Students out of bed!”_

Both broke apart as they saw the ghost of the Bloody Baron hovering by them.

Derek’s eyes twinkled as he spoke to the ghost. “If you don’t rat us out we’ll tell you who broke the Slytherin mantlepiece.”

The Bloody Baron made an ‘o’ face, making his ridiculous mustache turn up even more. “Of course. Tell me now.”

“I don’t know who it was exactly but it was a third year Hufflepuff.”

“Really? I knew it. Carry on then.”

And then the ghost vanished through the wall.

Stiles chuckled. “Thanks. Poor third years though.”

Derek shrugged and stepped away from Stiles. He stood straight.

Stiles lamented the moment was gone, but he understood.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Derek said, hands in his pockets.

“Yeah.”

Stiles stepped into the common room and headed to his room. He spotted Matt sleeping in his bed. He turned to Jackson who was just getting ready for bed.

“Has he been here the whole time?” Stiles whispered.

“Not sure. I just came back from walking Lydia. Why?”

Stiles stared at the sleeping body, feeling unease creep into his stomach.

 

|~~***~~|

 

“Lydia will you just hold on for a moment?” Cora grumbled, chasing after Lydia.

Lydia finally paused. “What do you want Hale?”

Cora snorted. “Wow, I haven’t heard that pretentious pureblood habit in a long time from you. You must be incredibly angry.”

Lydia rolled her eyes and continued walking. Cora resumed her chase. “Sorry. I’m bad at this thing, but no one’s brave enough to confront you. But basically I want to apologize on behalf of everyone.”

“I don’t want it.” Lydia spoke curtly, continuing her march down the corridor.

“But you don’t even know what for? Ok maybe you do, just, Lydia c’mon you know we didn’t mean all of that last night.”

“Save it. Apologies have never solved anything have they. An apology is not going to take back that I’m utterly useless in the grand scheme of things.”

Cora’s pace slowed a bit at Lydia’s words. She had never heard the other girl speak like that. “Lydia, you aren’t useless.”

“Yeah I kind of am. I can’t stop anything…” Lydia took a deep breath and then she stopped. She faced Cora. “And I’m so tired of all of this. I’m tired I can’t escape from _any_ of this because of my lack of friends.”

“Ok I’m not ever going to repeat this, ever, but we’re your friends. I’m your friend, technically speaking. Studying and eating in a civil manner has to point to friendship between us right?”

Lydia made her strongest, ‘I’m so done with you’ face. “Friends out of the pack. In case you haven’t noticed, no one wants to talk to me anymore. Yeah, I’m still popular but that’s out of fear and that fear comes out of the fact that people think they’re going to get a one way trip to Hospital Wing by being seen with me. And you’re never going to understand what I’m feeling, Cora. You didn’t have anyone but your brother when you came to Hogwarts, and that was shady at best. You made friends with Scott and Stiles, ill-choiced if I might add, and now you have Erica, and all the others. For you that’s a plus. I lost more friends than I can count while you just gained them.”

Cora leaned her weight on one leg. “Maybe those people were with losing? If they don’t want to hang out with you and just left you for some stupid rumors were they really friends worth keeping? They sound like assholes to me.” She spat.

“Of course they were! Friends don’t all have to be about companionship and platonic love. These friends were out of necessity. These friends were people who would help me go places in my future career. There is a reason why purebloods all hang out together, we help each other. It may not be in the same way like the pack and we may not like each other, but we do help. And I can’t get that sort of help out of the pack: muggleborns, fallen family lines, that’s not going to get me anywhere.”

Cora scoffed. “Of course, your life really only matters if there is merit in it? That’s all you’ve ever focused on. You don’t care for others—”

Cora watched Lydia falter. “That’s not true. I care for—”

The Gryffindor stood straight and brought out her House courage to express her feelings. “Lydia you are the most amazing, smart, useful person I know, and I never pegged you as someone who needed others to get where she wanted. The Lydia I thought I knew took things into her own hands, she didn’t whine or complain, she got things done. And you don’t need those pretentious muggle born hating purebloods. What do you guys do together anyway? Give each other validation? No one can give you that but yourself.”

Lydia snorted. “A few months ago, I would have hexed for you speaking to me like this.”

“A few months ago, I would have hung myself before saying any of that.”

Lydia rolled her eyes but couldn’t help but chuckle. “Thanks Cora. I’m so grateful to have you as a friend.”

“Same.”

“Now enough of this.” Lydia waved her hands in the air and began to move again down the hallway, Cora falling in perfect step with her. “You’re right. I do take matters into my own hand. And I might not be able to stop the deaths I keep feeling but I can practice my abilities and see who is the one who kills people.”

“Can you do that?”

“The Banshee says it take a lot of power to look into the eyes of those will die, but I can do it. I can do anything. I’m Lydia Martin before a Banshee, which means research.”

The two young women made it into the library and made it to the creature section. Cora leaned against the bookcase watching Lydia pick up a book. “This is actually good we might be able to say with certainty who the killer is. Derek was telling me that Stiles thinks it might be...Matt.”

“Matthew Dahler? You’re kidding right? Why would he kill people? And all the attacks have been from a werewolf, he’s not one is he?”

Cora shook her head. “I can’t smell any supernatural thing on him. But if you can see who it is, we can rule the evil little shit out.”

“I doubt he’s evil, Cora.”

“Are you kidding? He’s probably the product of a botched up potion experiment.”

Lydia gave the girl an amused glance. “Careful Cora, you’re starting to sound like Stiles.”

Cora blanked and turned with a horror stricken face toward Lydia. “Next time you and Allison have a girl’s night, invite me please.”

Lydia chuckled, but her eyes drifted to Matt who was sitting in the secluded corner of the library by the Ancient Arithmancy section. “It’s not Matt. And I’ll prove it to you.”

Cora grumbled. “Lydia what are you doing?” She followed the Ravenclaw anyway.

“Hello Dahler.” Lydia said, sitting across from him. Cora did as well. The positions eerily reminded her of an interrogation, but if it concerned Lydia it was probably done on purpose.

“Martin. Hale.” He greeted politely. “What are you guys doing?”

Lydia smiled. “I thought you would like some company. Where’s Aiden? Don’t you two always hang out?”

“He’s with his brother. He’s been doing that more of late. What do you guys want, cause I have a paper to write.”

“It looked like you were about to fall asleep.”

“Well I’m tired. So again what do you want?”

Cora spoke up. “We were just wondering if you’ve been feeling strange lately you know...during full moons?” Cora groaned as Lydia dug her heel into her foot. Merlin, that hurt. She now knew why the male population winced each time they heard Lydia’s heels walking down the corridor.  

“Ignore her. So what have you been up to.”

“Trying to write a paper.” He repeated.

“Would you like some help?”

Cora watched Matt examine his options. It was stupid to turn down homework help from Lydia, everyone knew that. So it was easy for Matt to say yes. Lydia gave a big false smile and helped the Slytherin out. Cora busied herself with glancing at Matt’s book choices. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

“Why are you guys doing this?” Matt asked after twenty minutes had passed and Lydia was editing Matt’s introduction.

“Because we’re friends.” Lydia said.

“Bullshit. I’m practically invisible to this school.”

“I know and that’s why I want to help.”

“Why so I can be your little pity project?”

Lydia pushed his introduction now covered in red ink back to Matt. “Because I remember how it feels.”

Matt laughed, his eyes crazed. “You’ve always been popular what are you talking about?”

“When the whole world looks at you it makes you feel invisible.” Lydia said truthfully if her heartbeat was anything to go by. “They hold this image of you that isn’t even real, your true self is gone when you’re with them. So yeah Matthew I know what it feels like to have people not understand. But you don’t see me crying in a dark corner of a library, now do you? So stop being the victim of teenagers’ half-assed cruel intentions because if you can’t make it here, you’ll never make it in the real world.”

“Lydia I don’t think that is as helpful as you think it is.” Cora remarked under her breath.

But Matt was actually mulling it over. “But how do I stop? It’s harder—it’s getting harder.”

Lydia’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Lately, I’ve just been tired. I can’t focus, everything bugs me that I just feel like snapping at the first person I see. I’m filled with this rage that feels like it doesn’t even belong to me.”

Cora and Lydia shared a look. From what Matt was describing, for all intents and purposes, he was a werewolf; but he wasn’t one. He smelled human.

So what in the world was Matt?

The two girls left Matt alone after he finished his essay in favor of heading to dinner.

Cora sat in the Slytherin table where the majority had taken residence.

“Don’t drink anything,” Stiles told Cora as she sat down and went straight for the juice. “It’s laced with mountain ash.”

“Why?”

“The aurors are looking for the killer.”

“We better do something,” Jackson said. “They are staring at us, we’re the only one’s who haven’t touched our drinks.”

Stiles nodded and hoped this would work. He made sure the aurors weren’t looking and outstretched his hand on the table. The mountain ash flew into the air. Only a dash of it had been sprinkled into the drinks but it was deadly enough to hurt the others. He flicked the mountain ash behind him where it hit the wall.

The werewolves all drank from their cups, slowly. Stiles sighed in relief when no one was convulsing on the ground.

Stiles stiffened when Matt sat next to them. Matt quietly gathered his plate but in his haste, dropped the pumpkin juice all over his hand.

Stiles eyes widened as Matt hissed. His fingertips sizzled under the table. He wiped his hand on a napkin, refilling his drink. He drank from it with no problem.

What the hell?

 

|~~***~~|

 

The old Hale living room that usually took up the Room of the Requirement had been pushed into the side as a large board meeting room appeared beside it. A large rectangle table had comfortable leather seats for the pack and the twins as they sat around the table during the full moon, discussing the matters of the murder.

“Ok so from everything gathered. I’m like ninety percent sure, it’s Matt. So let’s head on over to the Slytherin Common Room, wrangle him up, and place him right outside the Auror office with a post it note saying I did it. Any complaints?” Stiles spoke from the head of the table where he had set up an elaborate board with several post it notes and different colored string.

Cora groaned. “But he’s not a werewolf. He doesn’t smell like one.”

“We’ll he’s something!” Stiles cried.

Allison examined the papers that Stiles had stolen from his father. “These are werewolf claw marks, Stiles. I can guarantee that.”

“Ok well only his fingertips sizzled today at dinner from the laced drinks. What does that say?”

Derek grunted, exasperated that this wasn’t getting anywhere.

“But he really might be the killer, look at this.” Boyd said, handing a few papers to Stiles. “The Aurors found residue of a camera flash. Matt does like taking a lot pictures.”

Derek looked up. “I don’t want you two being in the same room as him anymore.” Derek said to Jackson and Stiles.

“Yeah I think that’s a given he’s obviously targeting people he hates and I think its safe to say that Jackson and I rank pretty high on his list from all the shit we’ve pulled on him over the years. Aiden might be ok though.”

“I’m not leaving Danny in there alone.” Jackson spoke.

“Both of you can sleep in the Ravenclaw tower. I’ll find beds for you two.” Lydia said.

“I wouldn’t feel comfortable being there either,” Aiden spoke up. “Matt’s different. He’s been different since we came back from break. I tried following him the night the message was written in the Great Hall but I lost him. His scent vanished, I couldn’t track him. ”

“Yeah and for that reason you come with me for the night,” Ethan told his brother.

Scott told the same for Stiles.

“What I don’t get why now?” Erica questioned. “People have always been mean to Matt, but he never struck me as the type to kill, yeah he’s a huge creep trying to stare up the girls’ skirts when we go up the stairs, but I haven’t seen anything hostile from him. Aren’t Slytherins more of the blackmailing type?”

“Maybe he just snapped?” Scott suggested. He then glanced up at Stiles’ board. “I wish there was a pattern. He strikes at random. There isn’t anything. We didn’t even find anything to support how Garret, Violet, or Carrie Hudson fit into this.”

“Carrie was never rude,” Derek said from what he could remember. “She was the epitome of a Hufflepuff.”

“Are the killings just random then?” Isaac asked.

Stiles shook his heads. “Killings aren’t ever random.” Stiles then pulled up the victim’s files. He tried to pass a copy to Lydia but she wasn’t moving. “Crap, is she in one of her trances?”

“Yeah,” Jackson said looking her over.

“Ok. Yeah we need to do this quick then.”

He threw the copies around, hoping the others would find something of similarity.

After five minutes, Scott made a noise of surprise. “I got it!”

“What?”

“They were all good at Transfiguration!”

“Scott, I don’t think...” Stiles began.

“No look. They all received O’s on their OWL test scores.”

“I think that might be a coincidence.”

“No but you said three is a pattern, and well this is more than three!” He stuffed the papers in Stiles’ face. And then yanked them back. “And look everything is here on them, even their career advice from when they were fifth years, Blake wrote on all of them some variation of ‘a pleasure to have in class, shows a promise in the field, loves to debate about theories’…”

“Scott, sweetie,” Allison said. “We are trying to see how this relates to Matt.”

“But...” Scott said right as Lydia gasped.

“Oh fuck!” Lydia cursed, they were startled because she hardly did. She stood up hastily. “I actually think I saw Matt in the forest, c’mon I’ll explain on the way. We don’t have any time.”

The pack nodded and stood up, they followed the twins as they knew the quickest passageways.

“I saw Kayleem Bettcher.” Lydia panted as they ran. “She’s in Gryffindor a year above us. And I saw another body covered in swells.”

“Who was it?” Jackson asked.

“I just saw an auror badge.”

Stiles froze, stopping completely. “Stiles.” Derek urged. “C’mon.”

Stiles nodded, running faster.

They ran into the forest, no longer following Lydia, but the smell of blood. Then Aiden, Derek, and Isaac ran the fastest up ahead.

When the rest of the pack got there, they saw Matt with his wand extended and standing over Kayleem’s body. The girl wasn’t moving as her entire throat was slashed open.

“Matt!” Aiden shouted.

Matt turned slowly to face them. The pack held their breath as they saw one of his hands were covered in claws. It was strange, because Stiles swore he could still see Matt’s fingernails even in the dark.

_“There!”_

The pack jumped as they heard one of the aurors approach. “We need to get out of here,” Scott said.

“But Matt.” Aiden spoke. “We need to detain him. Screw the aurors if they find out we were here.”

Stiles watched as Matt gave them all a blank look. He raised his wand, but instead of pointing it at them, he faced it in the complete opposite direction toward a cave to his left. He cast a bright lumos spell, the ball of light traveled inside the cave.

A buzzing began.

A few seconds later, hundreds of bats with blue tinged skin and green eyes, otherwise known as spectre bats, came flying in a swarm toward them.

The pack ran.

Stiles nearly stopped when he saw several of the bats head in the opposite direction, mostly likely toward the aurors. “Stiles! No time!” Cora shouted, dragging him back to the castle.

But it was no use, spectre bats were incredibly quick. Soon they were all falling to the ground, covering their heads and trying not to show any skin where the bats might bite.

“Isaac!” Stiles shouted over the screeching bats.

“What?”

“Are these bats classified as dark creatures?”

“Yeah, why!”

Stiles stood, hoping this would work. He outstretched his hand into the air and pictured mountain ash surrounding the pack in a circle. A ring of mountain ash fell around the pack and another shoved above them, pushing the bats away. He cried in relief when it worked and the bats swarm past them.

The pack looked up tentatively as the bats tried to get at them. “See,” Stiles told Derek with a grin. “Mountain ash comes in handy.”

Derek rolled his eyes.

They worked their way back to the castle once the bats dispersed.

It was Matt. _Matt._

The pack hoped that the aurors had caught him. There wasn’t much to discuss after the moon fell. The students headed to the dorms. As suggested, Stiles and Aiden went to the Gryffindor one.

“I can’t believe it’s Matt.” Aiden whispered, shrugging into a pair of his brother’s pajamas.

“Really? I can.” Stiles stated, putting on Scott’s sleep wear on too.

Scott shushed him, pointing over to the other sleeping Gryffindors. Stiles groaned and cast a silencing charm.  “He’s an outright evil git.”

“But still.” Scott said sitting on the floor between Ethan’s and Scott’s bed. The others sat in the space as well. “It’s just, why is Matt a werewolf?”

“He’s not.” Ethan spoke. “The claws it looks like they were spello taped to his fingertips.”

“You saw that too, huh?” Stiles asked, relieved he wasn’t going crazy.

“Maybe Deucalion bit him and the bite didn’t turn out right?” Scott suggested.

“Deucalion did not bite him,” Aiden deadpanned.

“You would know, huh?” Stiles shot bitterly.

“Look,” Ethan spoke before his brother could, “We are sorry for what we did. If we could take it back we would.”

“Why did you even work for him?” Scott genuinely asked.

Ethan glanced at his bare feet. “He was kind to us.”

“Kind? He tried to kill people.” Stiles laughed, it sounded deranged.

“So did you.” Aiden snapped.

“What?”

“You tried to kill Deucalion.”

Stiles snorted. “Because he was going to raise a demon to kill us all.”

“And Deucalion killed people because they killed his family. Do you see where we are going with this?”

Stiles couldn’t believe Aiden. “Are you trying to justify—?”

Ethan interrupted. “We would never justify his actions! We understood him which is completely different but for that reason we helped regardless.”

“Why?” Scott interrogated.

Ethan sighed. “Because he wanted his family back, he couldn’t do that obviously, so the next thing was to at least give them the justice that they couldn’t get. He wanted, and Kali and Ennis as well, to kill and punish all those involved in their packs’ murders, the hunters, the people in charge of the case. He could have done all that on his own. He didn’t need Kali or Ennis or even Lycaon for that matter to kill them. Lycaon was a means to prove to hunters that werewolves were not stupid instinctual creatures. He wanted to show them he could plan, strategize, strike fear in the same way that hunters did to them, what better way than to raise a demon that was meant for vengeance and war. And then he told us when all was done, all justice was served, he would let the demon go back to the spirit world. We didn’t see a problem with it. We understood the need for a family. He didn’t have that just like us. He treated us like family in that short time, you don’t understand what that feels like. To have nothing and then these people treat you with open arms of course you are going to help them.”

“And help involved?” Stiles asked.

“Nothing really, if we think about it, just show up to pack meetings. We were the only ones he bit that came to them and sometimes when the meetings were over he would help us with homework, which was amusing since he was blind, but that’s a different story.” Stiles and Scott gaped at this revelation. They just couldn’t picture the man that tried to kill them, doing something as mundane as homework-help and then Ethan topped it off with, “He also gave us a pretty nice allowance and inheritance after he died. But he didn’t have us do anything we didn’t agree with. Well, I shouldn’t throw that around so loosely. Aiden spied on you after all.”

“You what!” Stiles and Scott snapped.

Aiden sighed. “Yeah, and? He said I was closer to what they needed to keep an eye on.”

“Which was?”

Aiden shrugged. “I don’t know. They just had me report on the whole pack, I figured whomever they wanted information on would be on one of you guys.”  

“Oh that’s great.” Stiles muttered sarcastically.

Ethan shyly looked at Stiles. “If it makes you feel better, the ritual wasn’t really Deucalion’s plan.”

“What?” Scott and Stiles said in tandem. This was news to them.

“Yeah, I remember there were these two hooded figures that would show up to pack meetings and help us find our anchors when we first changed. They always had their hood up, voices charmed differently, and they always smelled strongly of potions so we couldn’t distinguish their scent. But one of the figures was the one who wanted to raise Lycaon it was their plan and Deucalion and the rest followed.” Ethan stated.

Aiden sighed. “We actually thought the figures were the ones responsible for the killings, the message _there shall be justice_ made sense if you think about it, avenging Deucalion and all them. But after seeing Matt over Kayleem’s body, I doubt it.”

Scott and Stiles looked at each other, Scott asked “What if Matt was one of the figures?”

“No, the figures spoke like they knew each other, Deucalion’s pack’s death was when we were what only a year old, that wouldn’t make sense. There were no survivors of any of their packs but them.”

“Hmm...I still don’t understand why or how did Matt got a hold of werewolf claws.” Stiles said.

“Well whatever it is, we should go to sleep. It’s late and we have Double Potions in the morning.” Ethan said.

The three boys nodded. Stiles climbed in beside Scott. Scott was the little spoon to accommodate their sleeping arrangements.

“Hey Aiden?” Scott spoke.

“Yeah?”

“You might not get Lydia back like before but if you tell her what happened, maybe she would forgive you. I think same goes for Danny.” He paused. “Though I think Danny is angry at you Ethan for leaving without telling him, so you just might want to tell him omitting certain truths.”

The twins didn’t say anything.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Jackson gagged as he watched Stiles shove five different foods in his mouth.

“You are disgusting,” Jackson remarked, unable to tear his eyes away. Stiles opened his mouth to show him the food.

_“Stiles? Jackson?”_

Stiles whipped around to face a serious but solemn looking Morrell. Stiles swallowed. “You need to come with me.” She said.

“Why?” Jackson asked rudely, but he was worried.

“Your family is in St. Mungos.” Jackson heard Stiles’ heart speed up and he could smell nausea coming from the other.

Morrell sensed his distress. “No need to worry, they are both fine.”

Jackson noticed Stiles wasn’t moving. He dragged Stiles harshly across the Great Hall to follow Morrell. She took them to an open fireplace and let the two pass by.

Jackson watched Stiles carefully as they navigated the hallways to find their family’s room. He hoped Stiles wasn’t going to have a panic attack at seeing his dad. He couldn’t deal with that.

Stiles was the first to push open the door with a shaky hand.

Jackson let his body sag when he saw his uncle was perfectly fine.

“Dad!” Stiles cried.

Jackson approached his uncle in a less hurried pace than his Slytherin counterpart. He noticed Scott’s mother in the room checking over John’s vitals. “Hello boys.” Melissa smiled. “They both kept calling out for you. It was starting to get annoying. I kept saying you didn’t have to be here, but they insisted.”

“Stiles, you look so much like Claudia.” John sighed, rubbing his son’s head in a daze.

 _Ouch._ Even Jackson flinched at that.

“What’s wrong with them?” Jackson asked.

Melissa took some notes on her clipboard. “Got stunned by spectre bats. The poison is easy to clear from the body but the potions, well, they make people a little loopy for a few hours. Perfectly fine. They were about to throw a fit if they couldn’t see you, bringing you both was mostly for the sanity of the Healers.”

“But they are fine, right. Nothing happened to them?” Stiles voice rose in worry.

Melissa pursed her lips and Jackson heard the rapid beat of her heart, trying to find a way to tell them. “Ms. McCall, not to be rude, but we deserve to know.”

Melissa sighed and looked around the room. She bit her lip and then pulled out her wand and set several privacy charms. She took a deep breath, looking between the boys.

“Ok I am going to tell you something, but you can’t tell anyone out of the pack.”

Stiles agreed and Jackson did too as he pushed his uncle’s hand away as he tried to be affectionate.

Her eyes went to the two loopy patients.

“Will they remember?” Jackson questioned.

She shook her head. “Ok, last night Auror Haigh died. He got bitten by the spectre bats too severely for us to do anything.”

Jackson turned to Stiles. “That’s who Lydia felt die last night.”

Melissa continued, “But that’s not what I really wanted to tell you. Since according to Scott’s poorly concealed letters I know you are involved in this case your family has been working on, so you deserve to know this information so you don’t get hurt or worse killed. But I talked to the Amiculum this morning about the bodies they found and what they discovered is that, it’s weird, all the bodies were inflicted with the Killing Curse first and then they got clawed up by a werewolf. Now, why would a werewolf do that?”

Stiles answered, “Because they aren’t a werewolf at all. They’re pretending to be.” Stiles spoke to Jackson. “Did you see Matt’s claws last night? It was weird, right?”

 _“Last night?”_ Melissa scolded. “You were at the scene of the crime last night?”

Stiles gulped and even Jackson. Merlin, he forgot Scott’s mother could be frightening.

“No!” Both boys spoke quickly.

“Boys.”

“We might have been.”

“Stiles, I thought I told you—”

“It was fine!” Stiles spoke quickly. “None of us got hurt and I kept us safe.”

“You did?” She crossed her arms and looked at Jackson for confirmation.

Jackson rolled his eyes to the back of his head. “Yeah, Ms. McCall with his weird freaky magic and shit.”

“Well ok, that makes me feel marginally better.”   

Stiles asked her if she knew anything more and she apologized she didn’t. Jackson watched her leave and suddenly he felt awkward for being here.

He didn’t know how to feel with Stiles and his father’s relationship. The two were talking back and forth although it made zero sense but it was filled with camaraderie and easy affectionate love that Jackson knew he had always been envious about.

Jackson had never had that with his own uncle. It wasn’t that he didn’t like his uncle, but he didn’t feel any parental inclination that’s for sure. Jackson had been brought up where he was explicitly told this was his aunt and uncle. So while kids had been learning their first words as ‘mama’ and ‘dada’, Jackson was learning ‘auntie’ and ‘oncle’. Don’t get him wrong though. Jackson was never once treated harshly by them, but neither was he treated with love. It was always respect.

He thought it was normal, every kid had this relationship. But when he had first met Stiles at the age of three and he saw Stiles riding his father’s shoulders, or wrapping a sleepy hand around his mother’s curls, Jackson retaliated like a proud Slytherin and made fun of the first thing he saw, which was Stiles’ pygmy puff sweater. Stiles tried to suffocate him with his blanket shortly after that, and Claudia had come to the rescue.

Jackson had liked Stiles’ mother. A lot.

When Jackson’s own aunt treated him with that cold distant respect only pureblood raised women could give, Jackson found himself hobbling over to Claudia with chubby fingers. She used to like to sneak him licorice wands, make entertaining spellwork, and treat him with a love that he only knew how to return with indifference.

He remembered when he was six, Claudia had randomly told him she was adopted. Jackson didn’t understand why she said that until he was sitting at her funeral, holding Stiles’ hand and pretending that he wasn’t. But it was her trying to tell him she understood his home life. She had never felt that love for her family either, which was the reason she fell into the Stilinski one so easily and gave so much love to her son. She had chosen her family; Jackson hope he could do the same when he started his own.

After half an hour, his uncle and Stiles’ father finally fell asleep.

“They’re knocked out, ready to go?” Stiles asked.

Jackson nodded.

The two wandered down the too pristine hallway. Jackson could feel Stiles staring at him. “What?”

“Was wondering if you wanted to stop by the canteen so I could get some licorice wands.”

Jackson knew Stiles didn’t want any licorice wands. The idiot always had some on his person, but then he remembered long dark brown hair around a beautiful face covered in moles.

“Whatever.” Jackson replied.

Jackson got a box for himself.

 

|~~***~~|

 

They returned to school. Stiles noticed that Matt had shown up to classes and interacted with them as if nothing had happened last night. It was outright creepy. The pack didn’t know how to act so they kept their distance.

It wasn’t until it was dinner time, that Stiles saw his father. The effects of the potion had worn off and his father had his serious face on. Stiles was sitting in the Gryffindor table when his father, Jackson’s uncle, and Auror Parrish came marching to the Slytherin one.

“Matthew Dalher you are under arrest.” John said.

Matt looked up panicked.

The rest of the Hogwarts students stopped to watch the commotion.

“Two aurors saw you last night killing Kayleem Bletcher and all the evidence points toward you.” His father stepped back as Auror Parrish lifted Matt to his feet and cast a spell, binding his hands behind his back. “You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defense if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Is that clear?”

“What? I didn’t kill Kayleem.”

“Son, I advise for your sake to remain silent until we leave school premises.”

Matt didn’t struggle against the binds but Stiles could see he wanted to. Holy crap. This was actually happening.

“Whittemore call off the dementors and inform the others aurors this case is done. We caught the killer.”

Jackson’s uncle left.

John addressed the rest of the students. “You may resume your daily activities, all ordinances placed are removed.”

And with that John and Auror Parrish left with Matt.

Stiles turned to his friends. “Did that just happen?”

“Yeah.” Scott said.

“It’s over?”

“It’s over.”

Stiles couldn’t believe it. After three months, they caught the killer, and their efforts to try to help had proven utterly useless. The aurors had caught the criminal with no problem. He should have been slightly happy that the deaths would stop but all Stiles could think was that the situation ended somewhat uneventful.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Note:
> 
>  
> 
> The archaic latin word amiculum means cloak and cape. I figured the Amiculum would function as the coroners in the Wizarding world to learn how the deceased died. 
> 
> Also, I am not saying adopted families can’t give love. I am taking this from Jackson’s experience in Teen Wolf and my own friend who is adopted who had a very similar experience growing up. Adopted families can be very supportive but can also be non-supportive like traditional families.
> 
> Also, I don't know if you guys have noticed yet (you probably have cause my readers are awesome) but the general theme I am bringing up in my story is whether apologies are sufficient and do they really do anything...and whether someone's actions are justified...so yeah...
> 
> And this arc is not done. What did you think? Stiles abusing his magic? Sterek scenes? Another almost kiss but cockblocked yet again? Cora and Lydia? Jackson? Matt? The twins? The two-figures? Love to hear all your opinions.
> 
> Aaaaand omg! I have reached 20,000+ hits and over 700 kudos. Ugh! I never thought I would get those numbers. Thank you so much guys! I love each and every one of you.


	35. Simple and Clean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything just becomes simple for both Derek and Stiles in the most unexpected time...Peter wakes up, that's complicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [SO I WANT EVERYONE TO LOOK AT THIS LINK!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Jxw_NAKUn0) CLICK IT I MEAN IT! This chapter was inspired heavily by this song and this girl does the best cover I have ever seen. Literally, listen to the lyrics it's for Derek and Stiles for my story. I recommend listening to it as you read the chapter or right after you finish the chapter, preferably after you finish the chapter. Oh and there is a minor Japanese part, which roughly translates to:
> 
> No matter what the time  
> We'll always be together  
> No matter what the time  
> Because you're by my side  
> The light known as "you" finds me,  
> In the middle of the night
> 
> &
> 
> Turn off the television,  
> And look only at me.

_“Reducto!”_  Stiles screamed at the top of his lungs.

Derek stopped the spell with a shield charm. He then nonverbally cast a projectile of several stunning spells.

Each ray of light twirled in a dramatic flair.

Stiles tripped, fell, and rolled clumsily to dodge each one. Gasping for air, he shouted, _“Confundus!”_

The violet ray nicked Derek’s shoulder as he made a full three-sixty degree turn to fire a spell.

Stiles gasped as it hit him square in the chest. A timer went off.

“I win.” Derek smirked, lowering his wand.

Stiles fell to his knees, moaning dramatically. Derek bypassed him to grab a bottle of water. Stiles was a little too late to catch the bottle thrown at him. It bounced off his forehead and Stiles made a show of lying on his stomach to reach for the bottle that had rolled away. Derek was kind enough to gently kick it toward him as he sipped from his own bottle.

“This so unfair!” Stiles whined after he had chugged the water.

“Not my fault you suck.”

Stiles flipped him off from the floor, but he was smiling, so Derek didn’t take it personally. It was sort of nice hanging out with Derek without worrying the aurors would yell at them for being in undesignated areas. As such, the pair were enjoying a nice Friday afternoon inside the Room of Requirement that had been transfigured into a training room.

Stiles lay starfish on the floor, staring at the ceiling.

Derek, as promised was tutoring him DADA, but the session was not going so well. It wasn’t on fault of Derek being a lousy teacher, in fact, he was a lot more helpful than Professor Argent. The problem lay with Stiles. He was utterly hopeless.

He craned his neck to watch Derek lift his shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

Stiles might have drooled a bit.

His major and equally as hopeless crush on Derek might have been part of the problem. He might have been oogling him insteading of paying attention. He was ecstatic that they were currently away from the pack because he was sure someone would notice his attraction to Derek. And he was so not ready to embarrassed in front of his crush. Nope. He got enough of that in front of Lydia, thank you very much. Reliving experiences was definitely not a thing he wanted to do.

“It’s because you are putting too much thought into it.” Derek said. “Ok, stand up and show me your posture if you were going to cast a stunning spell.” He stepped forward and corrected Stiles’ form for the seventeenth time today and he knew it was seventeen time because there was a board on the side that had tally marks. Stiles knew he didn’t ask the room for it so he was sure Derek had. The bastard. He couldn’t believe he liked him.

Oh crap, Derek was talking.

Better pay attention.

“See this is where you lack. Think of the others. You have Lydia, she can cast the spells fine but only when she has perfect posture, elbow straight, wrist bent, wand aligned with sightline. She has that posture because despite what she says she practices a lot, and you don’t. And then you have Scott. His grip is always too tight, he raises his elbows, he has really terrible technique in general, but he’s a natural in that he has really good instinct, that he can command his magic to be as strong as he wants and to go in any direction he wants. With that much force you can basically cast anything. And then you have Allison, she doesn’t always have perfect technique. She doesn’t need to. Her movements flow from the center as she uses her whole body, her spells always start from the center and carry out because she trusts her magic, it’s the reason why she can go in hand to hand combat and duel at the same time.”

“What about me?” Stiles asked.

“You just blindly throw your spell, hoping it will hit.”

Stiles hummed. “Yeah that’s a pretty good analysis.”

Derek sighed. “Stiles, you have all this magic inside you, powerful magic. It’s an intrinsic part of you that when you or your friends are in danger you unleash it, it comes naturally. You’re actually quite flawless, brilliant, and deadly.” He muttered.

Stiles blushed at the praise. “So what? When I take the exam, I just pretend my examiner wants to kill me?”

“Not exactly. Look, you just need to find that magic inside of you. Your posture is really not that bad, you just need to be confident.”

“Confident? In case you haven’t met me—”

“Stiles.”

“What?

“You are confident otherwise you wouldn’t be putting yourself in danger. Now let’s try the dummy again.” Derek walked away from Stiles to go retrieve it. He placed it in front of Stiles a few feet away. “Shoot any spell.” He walked behind Stiles.

Stiles shot a simple stunning spell. It hit the wall instead where a giant scorch mark was left. “I’m a lost cause.” Stiles turned around. He saw Derek with his arms crossed over his chest and thinking. Dear Salazar, Derek was attractive. The sunlight coming in through the open windows was hitting him perfectly. He swore he could hear music in the background each time he looked at Derek, but that might have had to do with the canaries flying about outside.

“Think of it like your Moonwalker magic,” Derek finally said. “When you cast mountain ash, you have to picture where it goes right?”

“Yeah.”

“Now do the same thing.”

Stiles nodded, closing his eyes for a moment. He took one deep breath and shot the spell at the dummy. The dummy flew across the room and crashed violently against the wall.

Derek grinned. “That was actually a lot better than I expected.”

“Haha screw you.” Stiles laughed, at Derek’s poor attempt at humor. “Thanks though, you’re actually a great teacher.”

Derek shrugged. “Do you want to try dueling one more time?”

Stiles smirked.

They assumed the positions. They knew they were meant to bow, but they barely inclined their heads, not taking their eyes off each other. They parted and took the number of steps away from each other, starting at opposite side of the rooms.

Derek called the time. “One. two. Th--"

Stiles grinned. He started on two. He couldn’t believe at one point in time he had denied his rightful place in Slytherin. The spell hit uselessly against Derek’s shield. Derek dropped the shield and moved his wand intricately to throw about three spells at Stiles. Stiles stumbled, but blocked the spell. Again, he shot a stunning spell. It was heading straight for Derek, but at the last minute Derek dodged—a little too quickly.

“You fucker, you’re cheating!” Stiles cried, barely dodging a spell. “You’re using werewolf speed.”

Derek shrugged with a smirk. A jet of silver light came at him and Stiles recognized it as a Tickling Charm. Oh. Derek wanted to play dirty then.

Stiles ducked and the spell hit the dummy. He outstretched his left hand creating a fine line of mountain ash. He then shot a stunning spell. Derek unknowingly moved in the direction of the mountain ash. He hit the barrier. He stumbled back in confusion. He glanced at Stiles right as a stunning spell hit him. The spell was little use on a werewolf, but it did hit him hard that he fumbled toward the wall.

Derek growled.

He looked up to catch Stiles laughing.

Derek scoffed. He ran.

Stiles didn’t have time to react because next thing he knew Derek was pushing him to the ground, holding him down by his upper arms. Stiles gasped. He wished for a soft landing and thankfully the room gave him one. He felt it materializing under him.

Both collapsed onto the rug.

“You know that you could’ve knocked me dead, if my head had hit the stone floor!” Stiles cried.

“Good thing your head is pretty thick then,” Derek answered lowly, and Stiles felt the other’s breath in hot puffs over his face.

Stiles gulped as he took in their positions. He tried not to move as he stared at Derek. His eyes were a strange murky green in the spring light. They were nice. But Derek looked uneasy and his cheeks were flushed. The thought of what was probably going to happen made Stiles still in anticipation as well.

Derek swallowed and Stiles watched his throat move.

"This is so stupid," the older boy muttered.

“Nope. Not stupid you should totally kiss me, if you’re up for it. I mean you don't … I didn't …if you…" Stiles' whispered ramblings died as Derek leaned closer. Unconsciously, he bit down on his bottom lip.

"Stiles.” It was barely spoken. Stiles briefly wondered when Derek had started using his name as a sign to keep his mouth shut. Derek's breath was hot, hotter than the air around them. Stiles just stared up, not daring to move at all as the distance between them slowly started to disappear.

Their noses were almost touching when Derek whispered, "This is supposed to be a two-person thing."

"Yeah." Stiles couldn't be sure that he even spoke. The queasiness reached up to his chest and suffocated his heart as he leaned up to meet Derek's lips as they drifted down.

The foreign touch made Stiles completely freeze up. Derek had touched him before, mostly in an antagonistic ways in their brawls, but this was different, both in intent and in feel. Derek's lips felt like they belonged to a completely different person. The touch was tentative and Stiles pressed up, increasing the pressure. Derek almost drew back, but stopped and shifted to fit his lips closer to Stiles'. It was no longer just a touch but a real kiss.

Stiles yielded to the faint motion of their kiss, instinctively pressing closer and drawing Derek's lips down to him. A minute tremble ran through Derek's body, Stiles only noticed because of their contact. Not sure why it inspired him to do so, he pressed more insistently, maneuvering his lips to open Derek's. Derek responded at first then once he realised what was happening, jumped away so suddenly that Stiles was left reeling from the shock of the loss of contact.

Derek was sitting back on his heels staring at the stone floor with dazed eyes. Stiles licked his lips, savouring the tingle that was slowly starting to recede as his nerves returned to their less heightened state.

Stiles wasn't sure why Derek had pulled away.

Moving to sit up properly, Stiles winced and grabbed his arms. "Ouch." Derek jolted at the sound and glanced quickly at Stiles before darting his gaze away when Stiles looked back. Frowning, Stiles rubbed at his forearms where Derek had grabbed them and leaned down on them to pin him to the ground. Stiles wasn't one to bruise easily, as of late, but there would be marks from this encounter.

"Kinda harsh," He muttered, not quietly enough.

Derek snorted in response. "You're such a wimp."

He wouldn't look at Stiles and the boy frowned, wondering just what was happening and what was supposed to happen. What had just transpired seemed so unreal. He would have thought he imagined it all, if he weren't still rubbing at his sore arms.

"I'm not a wimp," he informed Derek calmly.

"Oh yeah? Wanna bet?" Derek caught his gaze this time, smirking, but the expression faded and he turned away quickly, but not quick enough for Stiles to miss the flush to his cheeks.

It was as if their shared moment offered him the tiniest insight into Derek and he smiled instead of getting angry. Derek was just as embarrassed as he was by the entire situation. It was so far out of his—their—comprehension that he didn't know what to do other than try to regain his equilibrium and bring things back to a regular scenario.

Stiles decided to go along with it, knowing that nothing had really changed in their dynamic, just developed a little.

"Yeah, let's duel."

And then he stood, searching for his wand. Stiles voiced his displeasure at his misplaced wand. Derek looked up at him, amusement stretched out at the corner of his eyes. His triumphant cry at finding his wand was drowned out as the door to the Room slammed open. Scott and Cora walked in.

Scott looked around the room. “Hey, are you two dueling?” Scott asked with glee.

Derek stood. “Trying.”

Stiles was hit with an idea. “Hey Scott, we should duel.”

Scott bit his lip to hide his laughter. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Yeah, c’mon. Just no werewolf strength or speed and I won’t use any Moonwalker magic.”

Scott looked skeptical but agreed.

Cora meanwhile went to her brother and leaned against the far wall. “Poor Stiles is going to get his ass kicked.” She told Derek.

Derek scoffed. “Stiles will do fine.”

“Really? Hmm..five galleons.”

“You’re on.”

The two siblings watched Scott and Stiles go into the positions. Scott as usual lacked any patience and went straight for a disarming spell to end the duel quickly. Stiles scoffed and a _protego_ shielded him.

He smirked. _Confidence._ He took a deep breath and fired a spell that slammed Scott into the wall. Scott coughed and stood up shocked. He shot the same spell at Stiles.

Stiles was flying to the right and oh Merlin he was going to crash into the wall face first. _“Aresto Momentum!”_ He froze a few inches before hitting the wall. Stiles paused, took a breath again. As he turned around, a spell like a thick green tendril of smoke came at him.

Stiles didn’t have time to dodge so he pulled up a shield again. It crashed violently against the shield. The tendrils of green smoke exploded around him.

He shot a flurry of spells and Scott did the same as soon as the smoke disappeared. When it looked like someone was going to get an upper hand, the door slammed opened again and Erica was in the crossfire.

Luckily, her quick reflexes and Isaac yanking her by her robes, dodged a nasty hex.

“What the hell?” Erica shouted.

Both friends conceded defeat.

“Oh c’mon. I want to see if I win five galleons.” Cora yelled.

“You don’t. I won them. You just said Stiles was going to get his ass kicked and he didn’t.”

Cora made a face. “Later, I only have sickles with me.”

The group watched as the Room began to lurch and groan. The Room was always more partial to Erica so they waited patiently for it to transform into the Hale living room. Derek headed over to his favorite recliner chair.

Stiles and Scott meanwhile dealt with the crossfire that was Erica’s temper. “And God to think I was having a splendid day with Harris vanishing my potion because it smelled awful. Of course it was going to smell awful there were rat tails in there!”

“Erica…” Stiles tried to calm her down.

“At least he let you work on the potion,” Ethan stated, coming up behind her. “He saw me cutting the rat tail and kicked me out of class because my form disgusted him.”

“He’s been a bit on edge, hasn’t he?” Isaac asked.

“So has Blake.” Stiles said. “She gave me detention for arguing with her.”

“Again?” Scott questioned. “That’s not fair.”

“You are free to place your head on her guillotine Scott if you feel like disagreeing with her punishment.” Stiles snarked going over to the couches. He collapsed on the largest one. “By the way, I was totally winning that match.”

Scott rolled his eyes and the two bickered until Allison came in and that’s where Stiles was left to converse with Cora as usual. He tried to catch Derek’s eyes, but it seemed the other was avoiding him. Why? Had the kiss been that bad?

“So how are you and Boyd?” Cora interrogated Erica.

“Why?”

“I saw you guys talking in the morning. Did you two makeup?”

Erica crossed her legs. “We’ve been talking since the fight, but we’re not talking, talking.”

“God, you Hufflepuffs and your passive-aggressiveness.” Cora commented.

Erica shrugged. “Whatever, it will probably just be forgotten now seeing as there isn’t a threat anymore.”

Stiles tuned out their voices and he avoided looking at Allison and Scott who left the Room giggling to each other. Stiles got a bit of courage. “So Derek I uh.”

Derek stood up and began heading toward the door. Well that was rude.

Derek paused as Lydia and Jackson came inside arm in arm. Derek glared at them. “Stop defiling the Prefect’s Bathroom.”

“What are you talking about?” Lydia gave him a lewd smile.

Derek merely frowned and marched off.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Stiles peered at the Slytherin bulletin board, shoving away the red hoodie that was floating right beside him, demanding him to put it on. He didn’t want to put it on. It was just a grim reminder that Derek had been avoiding him for about a week and a half. Sure they talked in a civil manner if they were in each other’s company for meal times, but anytime Stiles tried to get some alone time with him, Derek ran off in the other direction saying he had an essay to write. It was total bullshit. And Stiles was growing increasingly self-conscious and his self-esteem was beginning to plunder at the thought that perhaps Derek wanted him but didn’t want him in that way. Derek was giving him the sign of rejection without actually having to say it and be rude about it.

It was all very Hufflepuff.

Stiles grumbled as the hoodie’s sleeves kept slapping at the back of his neck. “Merlin...alright, I get it. It’s a bit chilly outside.” He snatched the hoodie and he zipped it up. “Happy now!” Merlin’s beard...he was speaking to clothing. He took several deep breaths and did what he had to do before leaving for the break. He read the note on the board.

**CAREER ADVICE**

**All fifth years will be required to attend a short meeting with their Head of House after the Easter Holidays. Meetings have always occurred the first week of May but due to Professor Jennifer Blake not feeling well, Professor Marin Morrell will be responsible for the Slytherin House for the time being. Times of individual appointments are listed below.**

Stiles looked down the list and found he had a meeting with Morrell during History of Magic which would mean he would miss most of Potions, thank Merlin. He secured his bag over his shoulder that was filled with the stuff he would need for the week. He waited for Jackson. In silence, the pair walked to the castle grounds to leave for the Spring Break.

_“Stiles!”_

The Slytherin watched Cora and Scott catch up with him.

“You going out for the holidays?” Scott asked confused.

Stiles wanted to sigh, he swore he had told Scott he was going to spend it with the Hales because of Peter, but then Stiles remembered, Scott had told him shortly after, he was going to be spending the week break in France— _with Allison_. Of course, Scott’s one track-mind wasn’t going to retain any information after talking about Allison. Although, how Melissa McCall was convinced of letting her son spend a week alone with his girlfriend, Stiles would never know.

But he was a little teed off that Scott did not remember, so he merely replied with “Yeah. Where’s your stuff?”

“Oh, I’m not taking the train. Allison said that we would be flooing to her place and then taking a portkey to France. I just came to walk Cora here.”

“And such a gentleman,” Cora remarked, rolling her eyes. She left the group to head with Erica who she saw up ahead.

“Well yeah, I have to go now. So have fun.” Scott remarked.

Stiles gave his friend a hug and watched him go in the opposite direction.

Jackson snorted as he boarded the carriages pulled by the thestrals. Stiles followed after him. “What?”

“It’s funny. Scott is ignoring you...there seems to be a pattern.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s just weird seeing as about a week and a half ago you were all best friends with Derek and now he’s ignoring you too.”

“You noticed that?” Stiles asked slowly.

“Yeah. What’s his problem?”

Good question, Stiles thought. “Why do you assume it’s his fault, not that I’m complaining.”

“Because if I have it right, it’s his turn in your petty little fights.”

“You keep track of them?”

“No, I’m just observant.”

“Danny’s observant, you probably mooched off his observational skills. He told you, like he told you about that thing.” Stiles turned a bit red.

Jackson rolled his eyes. “I don’t care if you have a thing for guys too Stiles. Danny is my best friend after all. And he didn’t tell me that you’re bi or whatever, you left the porn magazine on your bed.”

Stiles hands came to his face. “Shit.”

“Yeah you’re a goddamn idiot.”

The carriage shook as Isaac boarded. “Hey.”

Stiles and Jackson greeted him. The carriage began to move.

“Where’s Boyd?...and Derek?” Stiles asked shyly.

“Boyd is staying at Hogwarts. Said his family is going to visit some relatives he hates. He also said he’s going to be having the time of his life being alone at Hogwarts. He wasn’t being sarcastic by the way, he’s genuinely happy he’s going to be having alone time. And Derek, he said he was going to go with his friends on a separate carriage.”

Jackson snorted.

“What friends? He hangs out with us all the time?!” Stiles asked angrily. Seriously, Derek was taking this too far.

“His roommates.”

Jackson laughed.

“Shut up Jackson.” Stiles retorted.

Isaac didn’t press upon the issue. The less people knew the better. “By the way,” Isaac spoke. “Derek and Cora are acting weird is Peter that bad?” Stiles hadn’t noticed Derek was acting weird because the asshole was ignoring him, but he did notice Cora. He looked for her. He saw her two carriages up ahead with Erica, Lydia, and Heather Merlott. He wondered briefly if Erica was going to throw Heather off as the two argued over something. Lydia seemed to be fanning the flames out of sheer enjoyment while Cora just looked like she was considering placing her head under a thestral’s hoof.

“Did they tell you?”

“Well he’s the one who bit Scott.” Stiles answered. “I’ve never actually met him out of that one encounter where he put bloody fangs and claws in my face and I shot him outside the Hogwarts wards. That was a friendly welcome introduction between us, I’m sure he’ll be glad to see me. But Peter tried to kill Laura from my knowledge when he took her Alpha status away.”

Jackson and Isaac froze. Stiles forgot they didn’t know that part of Derek’s life. He decided not to speak anymore as it wasn’t his story to tell.

The carriage ride was silent until they reached the Hogwarts Express. They separated so the prefects could go do their rounds while Isaac, Erica, and Stiles went to go find a compartment.

Stiles sprawled out on the seat, his feet by the window and head in Erica’s lap as he read his Moonwalker book to continue translating. Isaac was taking a nap on the other side and Erica was filing her nails or claws, Stiles wasn’t sure.

_Lying to werewolves is nearly impossible, but Moonwalkers can go about it. It works the same way as a command, one merely needs a sure tone._

Well that seemed simple. He looked up at Erica. _ **“I have a major hard on for Jackson. I think I actually like him.”**_

Erica stopped her nail/claw filing. She was at loss for words as she peered down at him. “Really?”

He opened his mouth again, using the magic. **_“Yeah, I can stop thinking about him.”_**

“What about Lydia?”

Stiles sat up, looking at Erica as solemnly as he could. _**“I do**_ n’t **_kno_** w; sh ** _e’s_** m _ **y**_ f _ **ri**_ end.” His tone faltered as he couldn’t help stop the smirk at his lips.

Erica gasped and pressed the end of the nail filer at his throat to poke him repeatedly. He pushed her hands away as he laughed.

“What the hell Stiles?!”

“Holy Merlin’s Balls! That worked!”

“What was that?”

“Moonwalker magic. I can lie to werewolves. I can manipulate my heartbeat, not in an unnatural way where it’s just steady but to mimic other emotions to make it sound real. I should make a note somewhere to learn to control facial tics or anything else otherwise it’s useless.”

“That’s terrible.”

“Why? You guys lie sometimes, it’s not fair that I can’t keep a few secrets once in a while.”

“I guess you’re right.” Her eyes fell to Isaac still sleeping. Her smile turned malicious as she licked the front of her teeth. “How would you like to screw with Isaac next?”

“And what?”

“You should proclaim your love for him. Give him a good scare you know.”

Stiles laughed and whispered silently with Erica as they plotted.

Isaac woke up twenty minutes later.

“How much longer till we get there?” Isaac asked, sitting up and rubbing at his messy curls.

“Still a few hours.” Erica answered calmly.

Isaac nodded and stretched. He turned to Stiles as Stiles pretended to follow Isaac’s strip of skin.

“Stiles?”

“Yeah?”

“What are you looking at?”

“Nothing.”

“You totally checked me out.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I check out people all the time.”

“Well ok maybe I was.” Stiles bit his lip to stop the grin. **_“Can’t blame a guy when he has a crush.”_**

“A what?”

_**“Sorry forget I said anything.”** _

“You have a crush on me?”

Erica cackled.

**_“No, I sort of think I might be in love with you. Best time to say it right, we are going to be spending a lot of time together this week.”_ **

“Ok, Stiles. I know I’m attractive but.”

**_“Please don’t reject me,  I’m madly in love with you!”_ **

“Oh crap.” Erica interrupted as they saw Derek peer at them blankly from the compartment window from the hallway. He stomped in the other direction. Cora opened the compartment.

“What the hell, Stiles?” She exclaimed.

“Crap.” Stiles said. “Isaac, I was joking.”

“What? No you weren’t. I could hear your heartbeat.”

“Moonwalker magic. I was just messing around seriously.”

Stiles didn’t know if he should go after Derek. Would that make it obvious that he had the hugest crush on Derek if he left now? He decided to wait it out.

“Where is the lovely scary power couple?” Isaac questioned.

“Confiscating dungbombs from a group of second years.” Cora said, putting her feet up by Stiles’ thigh.

Stiles barely listened to their conversation, tapping his right foot. After fifteen minutes, he stood up, muttering he needed to use the loo.

He searched for Derek but wasn’t sure where to start and then he remembered a line from his book that Rhea had written.

_You need to hone the senses of the spirit, you need to be able to sense a werewolf in a room without thinking it._

Stiles hadn’t known what that meant when he had read it over two weeks ago. He had tried it, but he couldn’t sense anything. But now he knew. He was starting to come to the fast conclusion that his powers revolved around belief and want. He had to want to sense werewolves.

He shut his eyes.

Stiles gasped as he felt it, he could feel the werewolves down the corridor, Jackson and Lydia two train carts down, and Derek in the dining cart.

Stiles opened his eyes. He could see his reflection in the train’s glass. His eyes were smoking red. He took a deep breath and then another and then the color receded.

He went out looking for Derek.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Derek had his elbows on the table of the dining cart. He was alone. Not many people traveled back home for the Easter Holidays. He glanced outside. The train rushed by a bright sky, it was an endless blue under the blinding white sun that penetrated the dining cart on all sides, banishing every shadow in every single nook and cranny. His eyes scanned the neat green fields that gave way in turn to wide purplish moors.

The scene lost its appeal as Derek could smell forest and sugar cane in the next carriage over. Derek sighed, debating whether he should just run for it. He had been ignoring the other for more than a week, and he knew he couldn't keep up the charade. He also knew Stiles’ had been using his Moonwalker magic inside the compartment. His Moonwalker magic had a distinct scent of burning, bubbled magic, but Derek was just using jealousy as an excuse to leave. But he couldn’t keep running.

He didn’t flinch as the car door opened, even as the Stiles' storm of emotions came in.

"I was--"

"Kidding, I know."

The scent of burning spice that usually signaled worry faded. Stiles stood behind Derek as the silence dragged on. The scent that charred into burning electricity.

“Ok, Derek I’ve had enough of this!" Stiles screamed in anger and impatience. "Who do you think you are? Flirting and kissing me and then fucking avoiding me? What the hell is your fucking problem?”

“Your blabbering.” Derek commented idly, focusing on looking out the window.

“For once in my life I’m not blabbering Derek, I’m being extremely coherent and making utmost sense and you know it!” Stiles sat across from him.

Derek met his determined gaze with contempt. “We aren’t discussing this, Stiles. Leave.”

“For fuck’s sake, Derek retreating back to default cold repressed asshole because you’re what? Scared, I bet.”

Derek felt a tic at his temple.“If you think you are going to force some admission out of me, then you’re wrong.” He spoke dryly.

Stiles released a low, strangled sound from deep in his throat. It was a mixture of utter frustration and Derek smelled arousal. Fucking Stiles, he was making this difficult. He never expected this conversation to be an argument, ok yeah he totally did, because he knew more than half their conversations ended like this.

“What are you trying to do Derek? Push me away? Because it won’t work. Do you honestly think that ignoring me for more than a week is going to make me forget the fact that something actually happened between us? That I...that I want you, and I think you want me?”

Derek swallowed and looked away. “That shouldn’t have happened. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s not fair to lead you on.”

Stiles glared harder. “No I meant why shouldn’t have you kissed me?”

Derek felt the fight slowly leak out of him.“Because...I can’t do this again.” He hated the way his voice croaked. “The kiss was a mistake, we’ll move on.”

“It wasn’t a mistake and you know it. I want this."

“It was. You don’t know what you want and you don’t want me.”

Stiles laughed bitterly. “You're such an asshole you know that? What about what you want?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want.” Because it was true.

“Why?”

“Please don’t make me say it.”

“Derek, I’ve told you about my mother, I don’t tell anyone about her. You’ve told me about your family and I doubt you go announcing that to the whole world. So why?”

He stared him down. Derek was proud of himself for not breaking down in a pathetic mess. “Stiles. The last person I trusted like that murdered my family.”

Derek watched the emotions travel in Stiles’ golden eyes. It was confusion, realization, disbelief, and then anger. Derek expected pity.

“Kate Argent? Allison’s aunt used you. That’s Derek...holy shit...fucking woman deserves to die and rot in Azkaban.”

That was definitely not the reaction, Derek expected.

“But Derek I don’t mean to sound rude but I’m not like that I thought you would know that about me.”

Derek regained his voice. “No. I’m not saying you're like her. You’re nothing like Kate Argent. This isn’t about you. I just, look I never expected us to learn to be civil with each other let alone be friends. I don’t want to fuck it up. Once you realize you don’t really like me, you’ll see me for what I really am. A pathetic being whose mistakes have put people at risk and killed people. Don’t let me do that to you.”

“I already know that.” Derek heard Stiles trying to joke. Which, Derek secretly appreciated. “I may not know everything about you, because God you keep everything bottled up, but I know enough to make a decision to tell you I like you, flaws and all. And I get it I’m kind of set on this too that this is some kind of mistake because you’re you and I’m me, and shit, it doesn’t make any sense, and so what I’m trying to say Derek is that, I want to have you, problems and all because you deserve to have at least one good thing in your life dammit...not that I’m saying I’m that good thing that is deserving because Merlin...I’m far from being a good person.”

Derek smiled at the familiarity of Stiles’ rambling. He couldn’t believe there were people like Stiles out there. He couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to like one and for Stiles to like him back. Things like this didn’t happen to him. But then Laura’s words kept coming back to him, whenever good fortune came his way. It will work itself out in the end.

Derek released a small chuckle. “You are Stiles.”

They stared over the table. Well, that was a quick way to shut Stiles up. If Stiles was willing to take the leap, then so was Derek. He sucked in a breath to confidently say, “We never got to finish that kiss.”

“Is that you agreeing to...?”

_“Stiles.”_

Stiles came stumbling over onto his side of the table. His limbs flailing everywhere. Derek knew he was in too deep that he found it endearing instead of annoying.

“To fucking this up together.” Stiles said with a grin.

“Yeah.” Derek smiled back.

Both of them leaned into each other’s personal space with a smile.

“There you are.” Lydia shouted.

Derek pulled back. His head hit the window. “Yes?” He spoke grimly.

“The second years have stashed dungbombs all across the train and Jackson is having no luck sniffing them out before they explode and I would rather not travel on this train for another four hours with that stink.”

“On it,” Derek sighed, maneuvering out of the seat. He placed a squeeze on Stiles’ shoulder, hoping he understood the gesture. He heard Stiles’ heart flutter and took it as a good sign.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Stiles boarded off the Hogwarts express wishing Lydia, Jackson, and Erica off with their own families. He followed the Hales and Isaac to go search for Laura.

“Oh fucking finally! You’re here!” Laura shouted. A few of the older parents shot her a glare.

“How long has he been awake?” Derek interrogated.

“Two days. I’ve been spending it at Deaton’s home. I want him out of our house, now.”

Derek nodded. They walked to the van and Stiles sat in the back with Cora and Isaac.

“So you haven’t talked to him?” Cora asked her sister.

“Nope. Kind of don’t want to but we have to. Plus, I can’t get into the house. Morrell sealed it with mountain ash when he woke up so he wouldn’t escape. I need someone to break it.”

“Got it.” Stiles gave her a thumbs up.

Stiles got the distinct impression that Laura was trying to distract herself as she asked them about how the train ride went, which as far as conversation went, wasn’t very exciting. Luckily, they didn’t endure it for long.

Laura parked the car.

They walked up to the front door. Stiles bent down and looked at the black ash contrasting against the neat white door. He swiped his hand and the line fell apart. He let the Hales enter first.

As soon as Derek pushed open the door, they saw Peter sitting in the living room, downing a butterbeer. “Finally. I was getting bored.” Peter drawled in an annoyed tone.

He stood up.

Stiles looked at him. He looked much different from when he had seen him during the summer. He was clean shaven, hair neatly cut and groomed. He topped off his entire ‘I’m back from the dead’ look with a low cut v-neck.

“That’s far enough.” Derek spoke authoritatively, wand lifted. Laura took out her’s too.

Peter smiled. “I expected a slightly warmer welcome but I understand.” Peter’s eyes glanced to Isaac. “It’s quite a situation you have yourself, Derek. I mean I’m out of commission for a few months and suddenly you’re biting every teenager in Hogwarts with self-esteem issues, waging war against Deucalion, and...”

“We stopped the ritual.”

“That’s nice to hear, I wouldn’t have wanted to become a slave to Lycaon anyway. You did me a favor.”

“What are you getting at Peter?” Derek remarked.

“Me? I’m not getting at anything. I’m just here because you’re my nieces and nephew. The only family I have left.”

“We’re not buying whatever sob story you're pulling out,” Laura said. “You stopped being family when you attacked me. You nearly killed me!”

“Not like your brother didn’t do the same.”

“I did it because you nearly killed her.”

“An eye for an eye. I like that Derek, you had me going there you were going to be a soft Alpha, but there’s hope for you yet. Now, imagine how much you can improve. Think of what I can teach you.”

“Laura taught me. I don’t need you.”

“Like she knows anything. She was a child. I grew up with my father as the Alpha, Talia as the Alpha. I think that would mark me as the applicant with more experience on that field.”

“I don’t want what you are offering.”

“Fine. Place my application on hold. But meanwhile, why don’t you give your uncle a hug.” He stepped forward. Stiles’ eyes narrowed. He outstretched his hand and sent Peter flying into the couch with the mountain ash barrier. He quickly encased the werewolf in a circle.  

Peter gasped and his eyes locked on Stiles. He then smiled. “Oh? The one with the moon flowing in his veins, the one who defeats Lycaon. A Moonwalker. Tell me what is a lightning guardian? We could never figure out what that was.”

“What?” Stiles was thrown for a loop.

“Ignore him, he’s just speaking nonsense.” Cora remarked bitterly. "He does that to escape blame."

“Aww Cora sweetie. That’s not anyway to speak to me. What? Why are you all looking at me like that? Oh dear. You don’t actually think I want to be the Alpha again, do you? That wasn’t my finest performance considering it ended in me swooning like some witch at a nineteenth century harlot.”

Derek roared, stepping near Peter. “What do you want? Stop playing games.”

Peter smiled as if he didn’t have wands pointed at him. “Fine you caught me. I want money.” The Hale siblings looked on confused. “Seriously? You’re shocked. You know, I didn’t get a penny out of the fire. My husband Nathaniel was as a poor as a writer and conveniently speaking he was one, but that’s another matter. All the money was in Talia’s hands and well all the money passed down to you three. All I ask is just for a satchel of galleons to be on me way we never have to see each other again except for the awkward family holidays, you can’t miss those.”

“Done.” Derek spoke quickly. He turned to Laura. “We need two Hale signatures to pull out a large sum of money.”

Peter smiled. “Great I’ll go to Gringotts with you.”

“Not you. I don’t trust you to slash the first person you see. Cora watch him.”

Cora glared at her brother. “I’m not staying here with him.”

“I will.” Stiles volunteered. “Moonwalker remember? And don’t start again. He can’t get out.”

Derek gave him a long look. “Ok.” He said softly. He looked at Isaac. “Watch each other’s backs and don’t get too close to him.”

The two saluted. The three Hales went over to the fireplace, where Laura turned it back on. She stepped inside first, then Cora, then Derek.

“Bring me some ice cream from Florean Fortescue's!” Peter called. "Peach Faerie Delight!"

The flames sizzled.

Peter’s eyes fell to them. “And then there were three.”

“Shut it.” Stiles spoke.

“Oh I’m only joking. Sit. I would love to chat with a Moonwalker and Derek’s Beta. What are your names?”

Stiles ignored him. He headed over to the kitchen with Isaac to see what they could go eat.

“Oh c’mon are you really going to have me stand here until they come back? At least have the decency to move me to a more comfortable area.”

Stiles sighed. He flicked his hand and watched in satisfaction as Peter whined and whimpered. The ring moved and forced Peter to budge until he could sit on the couch.

“You know I don’t understand what has everyone in a piss mood.”

Stiles grew furious. “You don’t understand really? You almost killed your niece!”

“That’s a complete exaggeration. I merely weakened her. The transference spell doesn’t kill.” He chuckled. “Often.”

“You’re a psychopath.”

Peter leaned his elbows on his knees. “Said the pot to the kettle.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re a Moonwalker aren’t you? You kill werewolves. I’m surprised my nephew is perfectly content with including you in the pack. You’re a walking bomb waiting to explode.”

Stiles wanted to retort, but Isaac pulled on his forearm.

Stiles quelled his urge to shout.

Peter smiled. “Now can someone bring me some tea.”

Isaac eyes narrowed. “This situation isn’t exactly calling for a fucking prim and proper tea party, now is it?

“If it was I’d be shoving a scone down your throat,” said Peter. “Now bring me my tea.”

Isaac grimaced but left to the kitchen. Stiles got the distinct impressions Peter knew exactly how to make a person uncomfortable. He looked to be a master at spotting weakness and using it to his advantage.

Isaac came back with the tea and handed it to Stiles to pass over the mountain ash line.

Peter smiled too contently when he got his tea.

“Should have made it myself and sprinkled it wolfsbane.” Stiles said.

Peter laughed. “You should have, it was always leaves me feeling full. I love that feeling.”

“Really, I should stick a branch of it up your ass then.”

Peter snorted his tea. “Oh Remus and Romulus! I love you. My nephews and nieces are weak in comebacks, and here you are ripping into the marrow of my bones, in a matter of minutes.”

Stiles was unamused and decreased the parameter of mountain ash so Peter had to bring his knees up on the couch.

“Hope you’re comfortable now.”

Peter smiled sarcastically. “Just bring me Derek’s beta in a gag and leather and I’ll be practically in paradise.”

Both teens rolled their eyes.

Peter drank more from his tea calmly. And then he announced, “The hate you feel for me is just pointless. Derek and I had the same goals you know. Did he not tell you that?”

“Is he lying?” Stiles asked Isaac.

Isaac looked hesitant. “I can’t tell his heartbeat is unnaturally steady.”

Stiles stared Peter down. _**“Tell us the truth.”**_

Peter groaned as his free will was taken from him. “I wanted to be the Alpha to turn people.” He stuttered, tried to choke on the words.

_**"For what?"** _

Peter shouted and his face transformed into his Beta form. He dropped his tea as his claws dug into the sofa cushions, but he could not resist a Moonwalker’s pull. “To help rise Lycaon.”

Stiles scoffed. “From the way you carried on about attacking Laura, I’m not even surprised. For your sake, I won’t tell Derek though. C’mon Isaac.”

The two headed in the kitchen munching on a few cookies they found as they waited for the Hales to return. Thankfully, they came back in a short fifteen minute.

“There’s your money, go.” Derek threw the bag of money at him.

Peter smiled, looking over the galleons. He turned to Stiles to cut the line. Stiles sighed but did it anyway. Peter moved in to hug Cora, Derek grabbed his wrist and bent it harshly.

“I understand. See you at the closest holidays, Derek.”

Peter used the front door and from there all the tension snapped out of the air.

Laura laughed and turned to face the others. “Why hello Stiles.” Laura pulled Stiles into a hug.

“Uh.”

“So this is what you really smell like, shame I didn’t get to have a go at you when you were off being the perfect wolf nip.”

Stiles turned to Derek and Cora wondering who was the one to send a letter to her about that.

“Alright who wants Indian?”

Stiles chuckled at Laura’s demeanor, but inside he felt a pang of sadness. He wondered how much the Hales hid behind false pretenses. Perhaps, Laura wasn’t that different from Derek and Cora as Stiles had first thought.

“As long as I get to drive the Camaro,” said Derek with a much easier smile.

Stiles’ brows scrunched. “Camaro? What’s a camaro?”

“Derek’s car,” Cora answered.

“Car! You have a car!”

“Yeah.” He said it like it was obvious.

“You can drive,” said Laura. “But I suggest we all change.” She looked at everyone who was in some form of sweats or stained shirt. “The place I have in mind expects us to look at least like decent human beings.”

“Uhh…” Stiles began. He hadn’t packed much and he had very few muggle clothes to begin with.

“I’ll lend you something.” Isaac told Stiles, already heading up the stairs. Stiles trailed after.

Upon entering, he immediately noted which was Isaac’s side of the room. Clothes littered the floor and there was a messy untended bed. Stiles set his stuff on what he assumed was Boyd’s bed when he slept over. Stiles didn’t even get a chance to unpack as Isaac already began throwing several clothes at him.

He didn’t bother to look at the clothes since he knew very little about muggle fashion. He shed his clothes, and right as he was shimming out of a pant leg, he heard Cora shout, “NO! Laura!” A thump followed.

“Ignore them,” Isaac explained, fixing his hair in the mirror.

Stiles snorted. “Wow, you’re like Jackson.”

Isaac flipped him the bird.

Stiles finished dressing. His arms fell against his sides. He sighed as he rolled the sleeves and pant legs since Isaac was taller than him. He turned to the mirror as Isaac was tying up some boots.

His brown cardigan was left unbuttoned to reveal a white dress shirt. Stiles rubbed down the grey pants. He didn’t know what to think of it other than he felt like he was stealing Isaac’s look.

He examined Isaac, who was wearing a sleek blue cardigan over some black jeans. And of course a grey scarf.

Both headed to the living room. Son of witch's tit, those jeans were super tight. Derek faced them. Oh they were even better up close.

Derek sent him a playful smirk and then his eyes roamed Stiles’ body. Stiles felt self-conscious and then—

“Dude are you wearing thumb holes?”

Derek gave him this look that just dared him to laugh. Stiles was never one to turn down a dare so he did. He grabbed Derek’s wrists to examine his shirt closer. Derek was about to push him off but both were distracted as Isaac gave a long low whistle.

What the hell? Were all the Hales meant to look like they belonged on Witch Weekly.

“Looking good Laura,” Isaac grinned.

Laura cocked a hip, accentuating her long legs in fancy black shorts. He would have admired her beauty more but Stiles could only gape as he saw Cora come down the stairs. She was wearing maroon pants and a silk black shirt, all normal, except for her hair that was braided intricately and delicately that highlighted her pale face and lips covered in ruby red lipstick.

“Don’t say anything.” Cora snapped.

Stiles noted she was closer to his height. He glanced down. She was wearing heels. He looked back up and for once did not heed her warning. “You look beautiful.”

Cora’s eyes widened. Stiles was sure she was contemplating whether punching him or strangling him. She settled for the former.

Stiles rubbed the side of his arm, but smiled because he could see Cora blushing.

When everyone seemed good to go, they headed outside. Stiles was about to go for the passenger seat, but a hip-check from Laura made him trip. She gave him this “look” that Stiles didn’t know how to decipher. He ended up sitting in the backseat with Cora and Isaac.

Impressed, awed, and incredibly turned-on were a few of the adjectives Stiles felt as he watched Derek drive. He drove like Stiles flew. It was fucking fantastic.

Derek parked the car a block down the restaurant. Stiles kept tripping over his feet as he took in muggle London at night. He didn’t have any words to describe the onslaught of stimulus to his senses.

He was pulled away from it from a lower hand at his back as Derek directed him inside the restaurant. The hand was pulled away as soon as they were inside.

“Ah! Miss Laura Hale!”

“Hello Mahaj!” Laura waved toward the middle aged Indian man. Stiles was clued in that Laura must have frequented this place regularly.

“Are these your siblings you told me so much about?”

“Yeah this Derek and Cora, they’re here for the Easter holidays.”

Mahaj grabbed Derek’s hand, shaking it vigorously. “Tell me boy, how’s Cambridge?”

Derek glared at Laura.

“Great.” Derek said through a clenched jaw.

“I’m glad to hear that. My daughter is studying Theology and Religious Studies, like yourself. Although, Laura gave me your information and my daughter said she’s never seen you on campus. I’m sure she wouldn’t have missed a nice looking lad like yourself.”

“I take the earliest classes possible .” Derek replied.

“Ah, that’s probably why. My daughter takes the afternoon and evening ones. And who are these two?”

“Friends of my sister.” Laura but in quickly. “That’s Isaac and Stiles they all go to boarding school with her.”

“Amazing all of you go to Ruthin?”

Cora then glared at her sister. “Yes, I love spending my time with all the posh elite.”

Mahajan laughed. “Well, let me show to your table.”

The owner of the restaurant spoke a few more words to Laura but left to attend to other customers.

“Cambridge.” Derek said unamused.

Laura shrugged. “Hey kept asking about you two. I might have accidentally slipped that you both attended the most prestigious university and boarding schools in the country. You should take that as a compliment by the way. I didn’t know his daughter went there to and then he asked me what you were studying, I panicked and blurted a random field of study which happened to be the same one his daughter was in.”

“I hate you.”

“Like that’s news.” Laura picked up her menu.

Stiles did the same. He didn’t know what anything was, but luckily, Derek who was sitting next to him was explaining him everything. It was nice.

A waiter came and took their orders.

As their food emerged, Stiles was a little bummed that he and Derek hadn’t had any time to themselves since the train ride. He was itching for it. After all, they were together now.

Oh Dragon’s Balls.

_They were together._

He felt his breath and heartbeat quicken. How did that happen?

Stiles stiffened as he felt Derek hook an ankle over his own. Derek didn’t move away; in fact, he seemed to have done it unconsciously, as he kept on eating his own food and explaining to Laura that Cora had gone on a date. Cora kicked her brother under the table to get him to shut up, but Laura was already honing in with that information.

When Derek noticed what he had done, he tried to pull back, but Stiles tightened his leg. He caught Derek’s eyes and the two continued eating like nothing was different. Without thinking, he grabbed a spoonful of the bright red curry and shoved it into his mouth.

Oh no.

The laugh that came out of Laura was ignored as he searched for water. Stiles reached for his cup, but there wasn’t anything there. He reached for Derek’s. But apparently, being with him didn’t mean that Derek was going to start acting nice, which was good because that would be weird.

A waiter happened to see him and refilled his cup without problem. Stiles downed his glass. He still felt the tingle of the burn on his tongue but it wasn’t so bad now. He placed his forehead on the table to regain his breath.

He felt Derek place a comforting palm on his thigh. Stiles suddenly felt much better as Derek inconspicuously took away the pain.

He looked back up and saw Laura across the table eyeing them suspiciously. She sighed and like a troublemaking cat, knocked over her entire plate to her left.

Isaac shot up.

“Oh, I’m sorry Isaac.” Laura whined falsely. “There’s a restroom over there to go wash off.”

“This is not going to wash off.” Isaac shouted, glaring at the chicken tikka masala now all over his cardigan.

“C’mon Isaac.” Cora said, lifting Isaac to his feet. “Derek, keeps an extra sweater in the Camaro.”

As soon as the two left, Laura placed her elbows on the table and dainty rested her chin on her crossed hands.  “Sooo..” Laura grinned.

“What?” Derek said, already on defense.

Laura wasted no time. Her grin turned malicious. “You hurt him in anyway, I’ll rip your lungs out and force you to eat them."

“Uh, Laura.” Stiles gulped. “I can’t tell who you are looking at.”

“Both of you.”

Well, that was flattering. Laura was defending him too. “Now, I know where Cora gets her threats from.”

“Who else did you think? Der-bear? Boy here just growls.”

On cue, Derek growled.

“See.”

Stiles laughed.

Laura’s grin fell. Her expression filtered to one of of pure motherly comfort. “I have to ask Derek, are you sure?”

Stiles felt his heart quicken as Derek looked at him. “No”

“I’m guessing the other’s don’t know?”

Derek shook his head.

“All right, I’ll let you to keep your secret till you’re ready. So...Stiles how’s OWL’s coursework coming along?”

Stiles answered before his mouth could catch up with his mind. He rambled. He wasn’t even paying attention to what he was saying. He couldn’t stop thinking about Derek’s reply to his sister. He felt as if everything was crumbling apart before it had even a chance to take shape. However, Derek’s hand came back on Stiles’ thigh, halting the destruction. It solidified something within Stiles, that he released a quaky breath in relief, halting his ramble. Laura and Derek stopped, looking at him with worry.

But there was no need to. Everything was going to be ok.

Stiles felt his lips turn upward and he proceeded to tell Laura about his Slytherin Shower Prank at the beginning of the year.

Everything was good.

A few hours later, the pack was back in the Hale home. Everyone was getting ready for bed, but Stiles felt restless.

He peered at Isaac on the other side of the bed who wasn’t even paying the slightest bit of attention to him.

Stiles stood.

He headed for the hallway and without knocking entered Derek’s room. He shut the door behind him and locked it with good measure.

Derek who had been reading on his bed glanced at Stiles with a soft smile. He set the book down. Stiles went over, kneeling on Derek’s bed.

He didn’t think about it and neither did Derek.

Stiles reached out both hands to place them on Derek’s cheeks and kissed him. It was a bit like the kiss they had shared back in the Room of Requirement. Derek took hold of Stiles’ waist and maneuvered him so he was lying flat on Derek’s bed. He didn’t stop the kiss. Stiles hands traveled to hold onto Derek’s shoulders, while Derek went to cup Stiles’ face, warm and rough on his cheeks.

Something warm slid into his mouth, slick and wet. It tasted a bit like vanilla and chocolate from the ice cream they had after the Indian food. It wasn’t a bad taste at all. Derek’s lips slid against his, and then their tongues brushed together and Stiles groaned low against Derek’s mouth.

Derek pulled back.

Stiles was a second too late to hide the whine.

“About what I said,” Derek muttered. Stiles looked up focusing his vision on Derek under the glow of a single lamplight. “I didn’t mean it like you thought I did.”

“I know.” Stiles replied with a smile, enjoying Derek hovering over him. “Because I feel the same way. We don’t know if this will work between us, I get it. And I was thinking maybe we shouldn’t tell anyone about us until we are hundred percent sure.”

“Yeah.” Derek agreed without hesitation and then he leaned back down.

It felt dry at first, sensitive in a way he couldn't define. Stiles opened his mouth just slightly, shifted so that their lips slid between each other and pressed again and  
Oh.  
Stiles made another involuntary moan as sparks ran down his spine. He was slightly embarrassed but he couldn’t be bothered to care. His nerves were tingling and electrified, he tilted his head and pressed again and something in the core of his body shuddered.  Derek breathed out heavy against his lips, eyes half-open and watching him, blinking a few times, and then his arms wound around Stiles' waist, dragging him closer, hands all over his back and...

_“Welp!”_

Derek jumped up and off of Stiles as Laura stood in the doorway. “Look at that! The handle came loose.” Stiles glared at the eldest Hale as she twirled the broken door knob in her hand. “Looks like we need to go buy a new one.” She sent her look at Stiles.

Stiles took that as his cue to leave.

As he walked back to Isaac’ room, he could hear Derek tell Laura, something about murdering her.

Frankly after that, Derek and Stiles were finding it difficult to find some alone time. They avoided Laura at all cost, because she was taking sick enjoyment of being a cockblocker, but if it wasn’t her it was Cora and Isaac unintentionally butting in. It was getting to be rather annoying.

Whether it was, Derek showing Stiles how his car worked or going to supermarket (which Derek vowed to never take Stiles and Isaac again after they almost destroyed the self-checkout register) someone was always interrupting when they even remotely tried to act like a couple.

The two couldn’t even imagine how Hogwarts was going to be like with all their friends present.

The two could only pray.

But they were happy. Happier than they had ever been before because what had been so complicated at the start of the break now seemed so simple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know I've been updating weekly, but that might stop. I have about four essays due in March and I promised myself I was not going to write fanfiction during that time so don't expect another upload until mid April. I tried to leave the chapter off on a positive note so you don't feel so deprived. 
> 
> But....HOLY FUCKING SHIT!! 35 CHAPTERS! That's how long it took two get these two dumb idiots together. What did you think? The sterek? Jackson and Stiles? Stiles prank on Erica and Isaac? Laura? Peter? Peter and Stiles banter? Think you can guess what a lightning guardian is? Or any other random things?
> 
> Did you listen to the song?! [Here's the link again](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Jxw_NAKUn0)
> 
> Anyway, this mostly for my own reference, but I like to share things with you this was inspiration for [Laura](http://wpc.4d27.edgecastcdn.net/004D27/Events/EWComicConCelebrationRedCarpet/Meghan%20Ory.jpg) and [Cora](http://www.aceshowbiz.com/images/wennpic/adelaide-kane-music-festival-2013-01.jpg) in their outfits. 
> 
> Thank you for all my lovely readers and reviewers and kudoers (is that a word?) See you till next time!


	36. The Misplaced Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Stilinski pays his son a visit meanwhile Peter has a friendly chat with Jennifer Blake.

When people looked at Head Auror Jan “John” Stilinski, they perceived a man who abides the law. There were no doubts about it. The people believed that John held the legal system in high regard. That the law was a means to provide justice and equality for everyone. The law did not discriminate. It was the only thing in the world that did not lie or function to gain merit and profit.

The wizarding world, however, failed to realize that John believed none of this.

Sadly, at one point he had.

He had been sixteen years old when the ministry caught him performing underage magic. It had been the summer before his sixth year when Claudia had berated him to enter muggle London with her. Ok, maybe she _hadn’t_ berated him. Maybe she had offered it up as a suggestion, and a dorky sixteen year old John was doing everything in his power to get Claudia to like him.

You see, John had just conquered the attention of the beautiful trouble-making, Claudia Silvia. Oh but Claudia Silvia was _amazing_ , in the notorious sense of course. She did not respect authority, rather she questioned it. As such, she challenged her professors during lessons when they discussed magical theory. She also schemed mischievous pranks throughout the castle, resulting in several detentions. But even through her abrasive personality, Claudia was kind and accepting. This all drew John to her.

All the other girls at Hogwarts were beautiful and dynamic in their own way. But, they shrouded their fascinating and complicated personalities to impress others. Claudia didn't. She didn't care what others thought of her.

Her cool nature made John a fumbling, rambling, idiotic mess. He tried to avoid any embarrassing confrontations with her but it was difficult when they were both in Gryffindor. He recalled his friends teasing him any time Claudia turned a corner or snuck a glance at him. This behavior continued for five years.

It wasn’t until the end of his fifth year that he pulled out his Gryffindor courage to speak with her. He had been a blabbering idiot and he was positive he had accidentally insulted her. But he had made her laugh with the good old Stilinski sharp wit and humor. From there, Claudia wanted to become his best friend.

Which brought him to the unfortunate situation in muggle London. Claudia wanted to make a prank outside the Leaky Cauldron. He couldn’t even recall what the prank entailed but it did get them in deep trouble.

No one saw, but the ministry kept tabs on every underage wizard’s wand.

The ministry caught them an hour later and sent home a letter. A woman with a singsong voice informed John’s parents of the event. John knew, if muggles had seen him and Claudia, the ministry would split their wands without any court hearing. But according to his parents, it had only been a minor offense and they would only need to pay a fine. However, the fine was a large sum. John worried that Claudia’s working class family would not be able to afford it. He begged his parents to pay the fine for her too. They refused adamantly, but John begged and begged until he became a nuisance for his family. It worked. And the two went away unscathed and without a single record on their file.  

Until John discovered the fine was a lie.

John concluded this while he was still in auror training. He had been sitting in the canteen and reading the Daily Prophet when a certain article caught his eye. A fourteen year old boy had performed underage magic in a secluded field. The boy did not get away with just a fine. The ministry snapped his wand and banned him from ever purchasing a wand again.

John finally understood.

There was no fine.

His parents had bought out key members of the Wizengamot to not press charges. He learned then that the law was not for all.

The law was for people who could pay.

As such, he became acutely aware of the law’s intricacies as he continued his auror training. He came to the conclusion the law worked in the favor of purebloods.

He tried to pretend that wasn’t true as he came out of the academy, but his first big case destroyed all that.

He was twenty-one when hunters murdered the Deucalion family. The entire wizarding world was thrown for a loop during that period. It was the sensationalistic news story the Daily Prophet had been waiting for their entire lives. He still remembered the headlines.

 _ **‘Oldest and Most Influential Wizarding Family Werewolves?!!’**_ or _**‘Murder or Service to the Wizarding Race?’**_

The Deucalions were not purebloods; they never had been. But they had managed to preserve their name for millenniums. People looked up to them. The family didn’t demand respect like purebloods did. They just got it because of their accomplishments and duty to the world.

And then everyone’s opinions changed when they found out what they were.

At the beginning of the case, every auror wanted to bring justice to the family. They wanted to protect and coddle Alexandros Deucalion, the last family member alive. But as the aurors continued the case, they came to the startling revelation that the family were werewolves. Prejudices slashed open and tainted the righteous case. Everything then became a trial to protect the hunters who had killed the Deucalion family.

_'It was a service to the wizarding world!'_

_'The monsters attacked first!'_

_'The hunters are protecting our children!'_

_'Merlin would have wanted this!'_

_'They are rabid! The ministry has the right to put them down!'_

Those had been just a handful of the conversations.

John had been more than upset at hearing them. His insides knotted and he felt like someone had screwed a nail into his jaw.

He wanted to help Deucalion, but when he first spoke up, the Head Auror who had recently replaced Jackson’s father refused. He threatened to sack John. And John couldn’t lose his job, the job meant everything to him, and he was now supporting his newborn son. He could not do that to Claudia.  

So he stayed and faced the guilt of knowing he had been an accomplice in the wrongful trial of Deucalion.

When he finally became Head Auror, he vowed he would never make the same mistake twice. He constantly bended the law to help those he knew the law would not protect. He broke protocol to keep innocent people out of Azkaban and into rehab facilities instead. He knew if any of his aurors bothered to read his reports the ministry would sack him. (Although he was about ninety percent sure that Auror Parrish knew what he did. The two worked well together and held similar ideologies.)

But anyway, breaking protocol was a means to get to the truth, so he held no qualms of standing at the steps of the Hale house.

He looked for the muggle doorbell and pressed it.

He could hear some loud shuffling on the other side of the door, someone shouting obscenities, and another shout to quiet down.

A woman swung the door open.

“Head Auror!” Laura cried with surprise in her voice.

John smiled. “Hello Miss Hale.”

John respected Laura Hale. His first encounter with her had been during the Hale Manor Fire.

He had just become the Head Auror and his wife had recently died. Everyone in the force urged him to take a break, but the work served as a distraction from the mayhem. Aurors were doing clean-up on the scene, so he interviewed Laura Hale.

Laura Hale at sixteen years old carried herself with a maturity that John had lacked during that age. And she carried this power that John for some reason felt intimidated by. He noted that the power within her was dimmed and instead thrown in the direction of her brother. (He wasn't sure how or why.) She answered every question without emotion and explained that Kate Argent used her brother. After cross referencing notes with Auror Parish, who had interviewed Derek Hale, everything fit.

Except one thing.

Why had the Argent family, a known family of hunters, murder the Hales?

John held his suspicions. But it was difficult because _really_. Could _two_ influential families really be werewolves? Wasn't that _too_ much of a coincidence?

But even if they were, did it really matter?

The family still deserved justice.

He did everything to ensure the law placed the Argents in Azkaban, but there just wasn't enough evidence. Until, Chris Argent came on the scene himself. John had never been more relieved.

“Are you here to take Stiles to the platform? I thought you got my letter saying I would take care of it.”

“I did. I just wanted to speak to my son and your daughter.”

Laura directed him a blank stare, but she nodded and put on a false smile. John was overly familiar with those sorts of smiles from raising Stiles after Claudia’s death. She urged him inside.

His head snapped to the white staircase as he saw his son and Isaac Lahey wrestle down the stairs. They both tumbled to his feet.

John honestly expected nothing less. The two continued to push and shove, fighting to see who would be the first one to get up. It ended up being Isaac, which John was surprised by since the teen seemed way to skinny to have any real strength.

“DAD!”

“Stiles.”

Stiles stood and jumped into his arms. John held onto him tightly and only pulled away when Stiles did.

“What’s up?”

“I was wondering if you had some time to talk before you go back to Hogwarts today.”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah. I just finished packing.”

John stared at his son like he had grown a second head. He turned to Laura. “What did you do?”

Laura shrugged with a confident smile. “I work wonders Mr. Stilinski. Would you like something to drink? We have coffee, tea, butterbeer...firewhiskey.”

“It’s eight in the morning.”

Laura shrugged again. “What? We’ve all done it and I can sense this is an important matter.”

John released a breath. “Some coffee would be nice.”

Laura nodded and left to the kitchen. Stiles took his father to the Hale living room and they both sat down. Isaac, Cora, and Derek sat around Stiles on the large couch. John did a double take when he saw Derek sit a little too close to Stiles.

It took him a while to collect his thoughts. “Ok, what I am about to tell you is breaking protocol, but I need your help, all of you.”

Stiles stood straight.

John felt apprehensive that such a mature, serious look was on his son’s face, as if it had been there countless times before. There was no reason a sixteen year old could hold that composure unless he had gone through something traumatic. Was it because of Claudia? Or was it something else...He coughed to avoid looking at his son. “How well acquainted were you with Matthew Dahler?” John asked.

Laura came back with some coffee. He thanked her and watched her sit on the armrest next to her brother.

Stiles answered. “Not much, the guy was a prick. Why?”

“Well I just had a few questions about him, and I was wondering if you could answer them. How good was he at Potions?” Aurors thought the answer could be answered by looking at Matt’s school transcripts, but grades only said so much...and he remembered his son and Scott complain how Harris, the Potions Professor, was completely unfair to everyone.

Stiles answered easily. “Barely average.”

That was not the answer John wanted. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, Aiden used to always shout at him and just make him watch. Why?”

John tried a new tactic and pulled out a list. He placed it on the coffee table and all the teenagers leaned over to read it. “Do you know any other student who would be able to brew this potion?”

The teenagers shook their heads.

“I don’t even know what that is,” Cora said aloud.

Stiles spoke up. “It’s a variation of a scent masking potion. There isn’t _really_ a potion to hide someone’s scent, so wizards made a potion to mask it with another more pungent scent...” Stiles trailed off awkwardly and John knew it had to with that ‘really’. “It only lasts for a few hours though.”

John wanted to ask his son, why he had that particular knowledge on these sorts of potions, but then Stiles was gasping.

“Dad, one of the potion ingredients is Moon Rabbit Hair. That’s—you can’t get a hold of that unless you are a Potion’s Master.”

John turned back to the list. “You’re right, we must have overlooked that.”

“Why are you asking if Matt could have brewed this?” Stiles interrogated him.

John rolled up the potions list and put it back in the pocket of his robes.

“Because the aurors and I have found out that Matt wasn't responsible for the deaths.”

“What?!” The Hogwarts students cried out.

“Someone placed an _imperius_ curse on him."

“Are you sure? He could be lying!” Stiles arms began to flail. Cora and Derek, on either side of him, leaned out of the way. “A lot of bad wizards try to use that as an excuse!”

“We are positive. We did a truth charm on him and then Matt went the extra mile and begged his parents to give us permission to use Veritaserum to prove he didn’t kill anyone. The next logical conclusion was that someone cursed him because his magical signature was all over the crime scenes and his wand definitely had traces of the Killing Curse \\. He wasn’t directly responsible for anything."

“Killing curse.” Isaac, on Cora’s right, bursted out. “I thought the victims died from a werewolf attack.”

John narrowed his eyes. He looked at Isaac for a long moment and then looked at Stiles, hoping his son would cave. “How did you guys know that?”

Stiles’ mouth flapped open and closed like a grindylow.

“Because we saw Carrie Hudson’s body.” Cora answered. John didn’t take his eyes off his son as he waited for a slip up. “And Lydia and Allison found Violet Logan’s and told us about the claw marks. Allison has seen a lot of werewolf injuries considering her family and knew right away from what creature they belonged to.”

“Yeah.” Stiles jumped in. “So uh how did the bodies have werewolf marks? I mean Matt isn’t a werewolf right,” Stiles laughed awkwardly and his foot jumped in place.

John sighed. He had already broken protocol by coming here what was a few more jurisdictions thrown into the wind. “The kid had werewolf claws spellotaped to his hand.”

“Where did he get the claws from?” Laura inquired.  

John rubbed the bridge of his nose. “As you are probably aware, but the Daily Prophet reported that the ashes of Deucalion, Kali, and Ennis were stolen back in December from the evidence archives. The claws Matt had belonged to Kali.”

“So whoever stole the ashes is the one who cursed Matt?” Stiles questioned.

John nodded. “Most likely.” He paused when he saw his son, shaking his left leg furiously. He swore he could hear a whispered growl from both Cora and Derek so Stiles would stop. "Stiles? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” His son spoke too quickly. “Does that mean the aurors are coming back to Hogwarts?”

“For safety reasons we are only sending two teams. The rest of the aurors believe who ever was controlling him would be more cautious and the killings would stop.”

Derek asked. “Do you believe that?”

Derek startled John. The other teen rarely spoke as far as John knew. His eyes quickly glanced at Derek’s leg that was pressed against Stiles’, so Stiles would stop shaking. He wasn’t entirely sure how someone like Derek and his son had become such good friends as of late.

“I have to.” John decided to say after a moment. He stood up and drank only a sip of the coffee Laura had laid out. “Well I have to go back to the office”

Laura stood up. “You are free to use our fireplace if you like.”

“Thank you.”

She led him in the direction of it. John looked at his son who was in a heated whispered conversation with his friends. It looked far too suspicious. Stiles, ever so vigilant, perked up and gave his father a hug telling him he would see him later. John smiled sadly. Oh, this son of his was beyond him. It was times like these he wished Claudia was still alive.

But that was only wishful thinking.

 

|~~***~~|

 

_**May 2nd, 1991** _

 

The word Animagus came from the Latin words ‘anima’ for animal and ‘magus' for magic user. Only wizards from the western world used this word. In India, they had a different name for it, _sakti pata_ , a descent of divine power on a person. The word originated from the Hindu religion. Indian wizards loved studying Hindu because it was the only currently practiced religion that incorporated magic and religious theology. No one knew how magic and religion combined, but it served as a great basis for researchers to study Ancient Runes and Transfiguration, specifically animagus. Hindu religion contained several half beast half human beings and grandiose creatures. Due to that, Indian wizards prided those who possessed an animagus. But transforming oneself into an animal took a lot of magic. Wizards who could transform into animals, only turned into low level animals: cats, dogs, birds, rodents, insects, horses, bulls. Few wizards could transform into magical creatures such as dragons and phoenixes. These wizards were hard to find.

Her mission was to locate one.

She had heard rumors that in the slums of Mumbai an elderly man could turn in a Navagunjara. A Navagunjara had the head of a rooster, stood on three feet that belonged to those of an elephant, tiger, and a deer. The fourth limb belonged of a human arm carrying a lotus. The beast had the neck of a peacock, the back of a bull, the waist of a lion, and the tail of a serpent.

The creature in itself was legendary, few wizards had the opportunity of seeing one. But knowing a man could turn into one, that was even more extraordinary.

Her work had sent her to find this mysterious man. But she was having no luck and she didn't know how much she could take of the slums.

She traveled in her animagus form as a dark brown fox so she could listen to hushed conversations without suspicion.

The people of Mumbai stacked their shabby, uneven, shaped houses made of flimsy boards against each other. They barred their windows with more wooden boards and covered collapsed walls with blue tarps. Outside their homes, the slum's sewage system collapsed on itself. A constant stream of sludge water flooded the narrow streets. The smell permeated across the slums from the scorching heat. Children wearing tattered clothes and without shoes splashed against the sludge water as they rushed to their sweatshop factory jobs. Wizards and witches kept to the shadows of the slums, dealing in illegal potions to muggles and other wizards alike.

It was sad being here, knowing that skyscrapers of wealth and prestige stood only a few miles off the slums.

Her paws pressed against the soggy ground, roaming around. She had overheard from two muggles over a week ago that a man could perform extraordinary magic with animals. It wasn't much of a lead, but it was the best she had gotten. She tried to find him, but she wasn't having any luck.

She stopped next to a cart, where a man was selling shaved ice.

The kind man smiled at her and reached down to pet her. She let him pet her ears to build the facade she was only a fox. He returned to his cart, cutting up the ice. He put it in a small bowl and set it in front of her.

She looked at the murky brownish water. She scrunched her nose. She made a yipping noise and took off running. Her pace slowed when she saw a woman running from an alley on her right. The woman screamed and tripped in her haste to leave the alley. She watched the woman turn the next corner. That was odd. She sat on her hind legs and looked down the dark alley. She could make out the shapes of several crates, but she couldn't see anything odd. Her heart quickened when her fox nose picked up the smell of blood. She looked over her shoulder as her tail twitched against the ground at odds on what to do.

A strange yipping noise came out of her mouth as she began to enter the alley. Her eyes adjusted to the dark, but it wasn't necessary as she followed her nose. Her tail went straight into the air as she saw a young eighteen year old woman leaning against a box of crates. The woman wore tattered pants and a too large shirt covered in mud and blood. The woman wheezed and cradled her right arm to her chest.

She wanted to help the woman, but she didn't know how bad it would be to perform magic in front of her. She stepped closer to the woman to assess the wound.

She jumped back and her tail poofed as the woman growled.

It didn't sound human at all. She finally took in the claws at the woman's hands and feet, the canines protruding from her lips, and the burning neon blue eyes.

_Werewolf._

She wanted to flee... _but..._

This woman needed her. She took another step forward. The woman growled again in warning. She could smell fear come from the woman and perhaps that's what drew her to the werewolf. The woman was bleeding and frightened, nothing more. The woman needed help.

With her snout, she nudged the woman to show her arm. The woman's canines receded, she took it as a good sign. But the woman was still looking at her cautiously with those blue eyes. After a minute, the woman finally uncurled her arm from her chest.

The wound itself was small but there were black lines extending from the wound that were traveling up her arm. Wolfsbane.

She debated her choices and finally decided on the stupidest one. She used her magic to turn herself back into a human. The woman gasped. She ignored the woman’s shock as she pulled from her pocket a translator bracelet. “I’ll explain later,” She said. “Who attacked you?”

The woman did not speak. The woman looked defiantly at the ground.

She tried again and unwisely reached out to press pressure on the wound. "Who attacked you?"

The woman growled, but did not move to attack her. “I can’t say.”

“If you want to live you have to tell me.”

The woman looked conflicted, but after a moment, she answered, “My Alpha.”

“Aren’t Alphas supposed to protect the pack?”

“Not always.”

“Where is your Alpha?”

“He lives in the city but the wolfsbane grows here. I came here to look for it, but I'm too weak to move."

“Where is it?”

"Where's what?"

"The wolfsbane."

The woman's brows furrowed. "Why are you helping me?"

"Because you are dying."

The woman's mouth parted and finally her blue eyes turned dark brown. The woman released a shaky breath. “Two streets down. You can't miss it. The shop owner drew a hoya rope plant on the door.”

“Got it. I’ll come back. Just don’t move!”

She transformed back into a fox and ran out of the alley looking for the house. She needed to find it. She didn't want the woman to die. Luckily, she found the correct shop. She climbed in through a crack in one of the walls and looked around the shop. She noticed immediately that she was in a herbology shop from the rows of wizard plants moving in her direction. She stepped over them and walked on her hind legs toward the right shelf. She tipped the jar with her snout and placed the wolfsbane in her mouth. She rushed back to the woman.

The woman had collapsed on the ground. As she neared, she couldn't hear the woman's breath. She gasped as she turned back to a human. She pulled the woman into her lap. She could see black lines traveling up the woman’s jaw and down her chest. She pressed her hands against the woman's face, urging her to wake. The woman looked up at her with bleary eyes.

"What do I do?" She asked.

The woman outstretched her left hand looking for something. She saw a wand by the crate. She picked it up and curled it in the woman's hand. The woman then grasped the wolfsbane and with her wand burned the plant into ashes. The woman gathered the ash and pressed it into the gaping wound.

The woman convulsed.

She tried to keep the woman steady by wrapping her arms around her. After five gruesome minutes, the woman collapsed against her.

All her features receded back to human.

“You shouldn’t have helped me.” The woman said in a soft voice. “Wizards hate werewolves.”

“You were hurt. I needed to help.” She hovered her hand over the wound, watching in fascination as it healed. “What’s your name?” She asked.

“Kali.”

“Kali.” The name sounded beautiful on her tongue. “Why did your Alpha do this to you?”

“He treats the entire pack like this. We are his messengers and guards. If we fail any of his missions he kills us.”

“And you failed one?”

Kali nodded. “I was supposed to kill my Alpha’s business competitor. The muggle business man had wizard guards. I was outnumbered so I fled. My Alpha attacked me shortly after.”

“And you ran away?”

Kali nodded. “I regret it. There are pack members younger than me. Some only eight years old, he’s going to turn his rage on them. I shouldn’t have left.”

She stared at the woman’s fallen face. She placed a hand on her shoulder. “Then let’s do something about it.”

“Like what?”

“Stop your Alpha.”

Kali stared at her for a long time. “Who are you?” Kali finally asked.

She smiled. “Julia. Julia Baccari.”

_**Present** _

The hooded figure smiled at the memory. The hooded figure submerged her hand in the vase filled with ashes. It felt cool against her fingertips. Occasionally, her fingers brushed against a bone that was the size of a nut. The figure would caress it with her thumb and forefinger for a moment and then release it in search for another.

“Can you do that somewhere else?”

The hooded figure’s hand stilled inside the vase. The hooded figure smiled and then resumed to twirl her hand inside the vase. “Are _you_ creeped out? That’s a first.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “I’m not. I just don’t want to see you fisting your dead wife while wearing that creepy cloak. Why are you wearing it anyway? We’re indoors, have some class Jennifer, please.”

Jennifer Blake took her hand out of the vase to remove her hood. She sent a glare toward Peter. “If you don’t want to watch, I’m sure there's a bridge outside that you can rot under.”

Peter scoffed. He was lounging on one of the mismatched couches. His feet were propped up on an ottoman and his hands were folded on his belly. “You can’t kick me out, this isn’t even your house.”

Jennifer was sitting across from him on the other couch. She smiled condescendingly. “Of course it is.”

“Right, because I forgot holding a muggle hostage in their own basement constituents as property ownership. I wish I would have remembered that instead of mooching off my nieces and nephew.”

Jennifer rolled her eyes. “Ok. So, I’m currently renting the place. It’s not like I’m treating her badly. I give her food and a bed and that box thing with the little people, what is it called again?”

“A TV.”

“Right! I let her have that. She’s practically on a seven year vacation and all she has to do is give me her place and her hair for some Polyjuice Potion .”

“How is taking Polyjuice Potion  for nearly seven years treating you?” Peter smirked.

Jennifer glared. “I’m fine.”

“Really? Cause I’ve read the healer reports on the long term-effects of taking Polyjuice Potion  and wooh, they are not pretty. Dry skin and bad teeth although in your original appearance you don’t have to worry much about those, and there’s the inability to achieve orgasm, oh I can’t tell you how much that one breaks my heart. What else is there? Oh right. Impaired judgment.”

Jennifer clenched her jaw. “What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. It seems you got yourself a little situation. Casting an  _imperious_  on a child to kill other children.”

Jennifer felt a pressure along her solar plexus. She stood up, slamming the vase on the coffee table. She gasped a bit regretting the harsh handle on her most beloved person. She took a deep breath. “Where are you going with this?”

“I haven’t known you for very long, but I can see clearly on where you are headed. You are going to get caught.”

A breath escaped her throat in a hoarse laugh. “I haven’t been caught yet. I broke out Kali, Deucalion, and Ennis from Azkaban. I helped them confuse the aurors when they went on their raids to turn people. _Me!_ I snuck into the ministry and stole their ashes!”

She paused as Peter rolled his head. “You’re overconfidence sickens me.”

She sighed and sat back down. “If they happen to find any relation to me, I’ll just blame it on Adrian. He’s been a part of this from the start just like the rest of us. It was him who helped you get back on your feet. His potions are brilliant and I’m fairly positive the aurors are aware we were using potions to mask Matt’s scent. As such, he would be the most likely culprit between the two of us.”

Peter laughed.

“What?” She spat.

“Are you so used to your appearance that you forget what’s under that fake skin? They see one look of that and they will know who you really are. It’s only a matter of connecting the dots. Julia Baccari attacked by her own Alpha to escape Azkaban, Julia Baccari disappears off the face of the earth, and here comes this prodigy Transfiguration Master under the name of Jennifer Blake to teach at Hogwarts. Who helped Kali raise Lycaon but when Kali was killed, you went on some perverse twisted, and not to mention one that doesn’t even make sense, revenge streak. Students at Hogwarts drop dead when they look at you wrong or argue with you in class because let’s face it that Polyjuice Potion you are taking is seriously affecting your judgment.”

“Those are some pretty hasty conclusions. The aurors wouldn’t have the slightest intelligence to piece all that together.”

“Not unless they match the werewolf marks. You lent that child Kali’s claws to kill people at Hogwarts and for what? To convince the Fuoco Hunters, the same hunters who killed your pack by the way, to come to Hogwarts because the school has a werewolf problem. All in the twisted manner so the hunters can kill my nephew and his pack! You’re walking a fine line _Julia_ , you will get caught.”

Jennifer felt anger bubbling in every pore inside her skin. She lashed out. “Well what else did you expect me to do? It was their fault she died! I had just gotten her back from Azkaban and we were going to get justice, but no! Your stupid nephew had to intervene. I need those hunters to help me. I can’t take a pack down by myself! Those hunters will do it for me! There shall be justice!”  

“And what will happen if those hunters discover who you really are?” Peter stood in one quick motion. He stepped close to her and Jennifer pressed her back against the couch. “You know how hunters treat emissaries. It’s worse than werewolves.”

Julia released a wrecked breath. She looked up at him not breaking eye contact. “What could they possibly do to me? They already killed my pack, they killed children I considered my own. You know exactly the pain of watching your child get burned alive. When you see something like that you can’t go back.” She watched Peter’s face waver for a moment at that.  “And because we miscalculated the strength of Derek’s pack, Kali is dead. My beautiful strong wife that I had adored and wanted to help from the second I saw her is dead. I have nothing. Do you understand that, Peter? I have nothing.”

Peter’s face became stoic. “You’re going to get yourself killed. You’re slipping. You’ve been slipping. I need you in your top game to help me. The money I got from my family is more than enough to recruit a few werewolves, but I need your help.”

Jennifer laughed. “With what?”

Peter smirked. Jennifer watched him stand tall and proud. “At the moment, I am just biding my time. I might be awake now, but I’m still nowhere near my full strength. So I need your help to gather a few things for me.” Jennifer rolled her eyes at his crypt answer. Of course, she should expect nothing less of this man. Peter walked around the living room and in a sing-song voice, “But if you want to kill Derek and his pack then I’m going to tell you now, you have your eyes on the wrong enemy my dear.”

“I only have my eyes on the weaker enemy. I can’t go after the hunters who murdered my pack, I don’t mind working with them though to get what I need done. Plus, how would I even kill a band of hunters, the ritual to rise Lycaon failed.”

Peter smirked. “Did it.”

Jennifer felt her skin run cold at his assertion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh! Please don’t kill me leaving you with that cliffhanger!! You should know not to trust Peter by now. 
> 
> Well I felt we were lacking in some Papa Stilinski love so I included some dorky 16 year old falling in love with Claudia. And Papa Stilinski noticing a bit of sterek action! How did you like my interpretation of him and of Kali and Jennifer? And we got who is the hooded figure and why they are killing people. Also do you think the ritual to Lycaon failed?
> 
> Oh and because my tumblr got hacked, I haven't had the chance to reupload the timeline for my story. So [HERE IT IS](http://twinklingpaopufruit.tumblr.com/post/108960768906/reuploading-because-my-account-got-deleted)here it is. It's mostly for my benefit so I know what's going on when I'm writing. 
> 
> After some self-reflection and some time off of writing, I realized I had been lacking in character analysis, so this chapter is filled with it along with plot. How did you like it? It’s a lot shorter than my other chapters but it didn’t fit in with other stuff I had written so this stands as its own. Anyway, I am finally in Spring Break! Finally! But that doesn’t mean I am going to be uploading soon. I have a ton of homework and reading to catch up on, so I’m not sure when you can expect a new update. So yeah...sorry guys.
> 
> Thank you everyone who has been waiting patiently!


	37. Career Counseling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has career counseling and the pack realizes something about their futures.

“Sit down, Stiles.” said Morrell calmly. Stiles took a seat in front of her desk.

The break had come and gone and it’s first day meant having career counseling with Morrell. “So I’m here to help you decide what classes you should take for your sixth and seventh year. Do you have any thoughts on what you want to be doing for the rest of your entire life?” She said with a smile that was too knowing.

“Wow that’s a loaded question to ask when I’m fifteen.”

“I know.” Morrell sighed with a smile. “You don’t have to decide now. You don’t even have to decide when you graduate.”

“Should a professor really be telling me this?”

Morrell released a small chuckle. “You know, I was a bit like you Stiles when I was in Hogwarts.”

“I’m finding that hard to believe.” Stiles couldn’t picture a carefree Morrell, but he listened intently to where this was going.

She shrugged. “Everyone thought I was going to be some famous Divination Practitioner. I was the only one in over three hundred years to score an O in Divination for NEWT.”

“You posses the sight?” Stiles asked intrigued.

“Minimally. Don’t have control of it, I’m sure if I had practiced I would have become what they said, but I didn’t enjoy it. And frankly, choosing a career based on how well I could do it when I was fifteen didn’t seem like a fair way to decide what I was going to do for the rest of my life. It was daunting and I felt highly inappropriate. I still think giving an adolescent that much power and responsibility over their futures when we still treat them like children is reckless. Not all students are thinking so diligently about their futures. They can’t even decide whether they should follow on with their crush.”

“It sounds like you are speaking this from experience.”

“A bit.”

It hit Stiles that she was probably speaking about Deucalion.

“But anyway, instead of talking about what you want to do, let’s talk about what you enjoy.”

Stiles answered quickly. “Transfiguration.”

“Are you choosing that because you are good at it or?”

“No, I genuinely always liked it. My mother was phenomenal in it, but like you chose something she enjoyed and worked for the Beast Division in the Ministry. But I can say I like it alot, it’s the only course I feel connected to my own mother. It’s the only one I feel happy in.”

“Well Professor Blake—hmm…”

“What?”

“She didn’t write anything in your file...nor did Harris.” She sighed sadly. She closed it and looked back at Stiles. “How do you feel in your other courses?

Stiles thought about this more seriously than he thought he would. “Well I like Arithmancy, but it’s not something I want to spend the rest of my life doing and the other courses are just whatever. But if I go into Transfiguration the only option would be teaching and I don’t want to teach.”

“You don’t have to.” Morrell said calmly. “Jennifer Blake explained to me that she used to work in the research field, one department in particular called The Advancement and Management of Unknown Legendary Enchantment in Transfiguration or otherwise known as AMULET. It’s an organization separate from any governmental jurisdiction, they’re stationed all over the world and they’ll accept you anywhere. Jennifer went to The Italian School of Witchcraft and Wizardry but she went to the AMULET in India.”

“Professor Blake is Italian? Blake doesn’t sound Italian.”

Morrell looked surprised but then smiled. “Stilinski doesn’t sound very English now does it?”

Stiles snorted.

“Anyway. AMULET find new innovative ways to use Transfiguration. They remake old spells, research ancient ones, come up with new spells. That level of ingenuity and research seems like something you would enjoy.”

Stiles nodded, liking the conversation. “Yeah. It does. I didn’t see any pamphlets for that.”

“I’ll send an owl to get some for you.”

“Thank you.” Stiles said, feeling a little more sure of himself.

“No problem.”

“So we good?”

She nodded. “Yes. Send in Matt Dahler, please.”

Stiles grabbed his things and headed outside. He paused at the doorway.

Matt had an awkward curve in his spine as she sat on the single chair outside Morrell’s office. Matt played with his hands as he directed his vision to the grimy tiles.

The poor teen had returned to Hogwarts after the break and everyone had sent him rude insults since his return. The staff and students had been informed that Matt had been wrongly accused, but everyone still acted like he was the killer. In a way, he was. He had been the one to kill all those students, despite being under the influence, and that must have been seriously screwing his mind with guilt.

“Morrell is ready.” Stiles spoke.

Matt looked up. The arrogant light behind his eyes had forever disappeared since he came to school. Stiles wasn’t sure what to categorize the new emotion yet, dead seemed most fitting. Matt got up with heavy limbs and stepped inside Morrell’s office, gently shutting the door.

 

|~~***~~|

 

_“SCREW YOU DEREK HALE!”_

Derek didn’t even bat an eyelash at Jackson’s insult. The Slytherin barged into the Room of Requirement one evening, fuming with rage.

“Hey leather wearing jackass. I’m talking to you.” Jackson parked himself in front of Derek’s recliner chair.  

Derek sighed. “What do you want?” He could feel the other Hufflepuffs in the room stop their studying to watch the confrontation.

Jackson leaned forward, placed his hands on the armrest, and shouted, “You screwed me over.” Derek watched Jackson raise his finger and point. He only did that when he was struggling to contain his anger. Derek glanced down at the finger giving Jackson fair warning to take it out of his face before he broke it. Jackson’s face hardened as he brought his hand down. “Why didn’t you tell me the bite was going to ruin my entire life!”

Derek impressive self-control kept him from rolling his eyes at a volatile Jackson. “I thought you were aware of that, but what do you mean specifically?”

“I can’t get a job within the Ministry.”

Erica scoffed from her position on the floor. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Oh and you three,” Jackson pointed to the Hufflepuffs. “Won’t either when Morrell gets to your career counseling.”

Derek broke eye contact with Jackson to look briefly at his shoes. Now he knew what Jackson was talking about. He looked back up, but focused on a random object by Jackson’s shoulder instead of actually looking at him. “Oh. That.”

“Yeah. _That._ I can’t get a top ranking position because they run thorough tests on all their applicants which includes checking for dark creature blood, and what are they going to find when they see me?”

Isaac was confused. “Are you sure? Doesn’t Laura have a ministry position? She works with the Wizengamot.”

Derek leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He balled his fist near his chin like a small shield. “Deaton was able to pull some strings to get her in, it was kind of a one time deal though. He won’t be able to do the same for Cora and I. So it’s not like I can get anything either.” He felt like it was important to say that. To place himself in the same level they were.

He had nearly forgotten he had not only robbed them of their innocence but their futures.

Boyd spoke up. “The Hales were an influential family and a few of them worked with the Ministry, how did your family do it?”

“Highly influential. Our prestige got us by and we could sneak through the system without question. We can’t do that anymore. Jackson might be able to cause he’s a pureblood.”

Jackson looked away and directed his attention to the coffee table. “I can’t.” Jackson spoke in clip tones. “After my parents died my family name isn’t as strong anymore. I will get tested.”

“I thought you would know this being a pureblood.” said Isaac.

“It didn’t cross my mind at the time. I forget the majority of purebloods hold contempt for anyone who's not.”

Erica pulled a face. “So you can’t a job within the ministry. Who wants to work for a government that despises what we are? Not to mention if the right wing conservative politician happened to run, genocide would probably be...pretty shitty for us.” She turned to look at her nails and then flashed a very wolfish grin as she extended them to her claws. Derek watched her intently. Erica loved her lycanthropy. He had never seen an instance where she was ashamed of it. “There are plenty of careers outside the Ministry that you can get. Sure, you won’t get paid a lot but it’s better to stick with your morals than be rich and a slave to a prejudiced system.”

Jackson scoffed. “No, I’ll take money and slavery any day.”

“Ugh, your unbearable. I doubt you would even get hired in the Ministry with that attitude.”

Jackson growled. He stomped toward her.

“Jackson.” Derek reprimanded.

“She started it.” Jackson whined petulantly.

“No.” Erica stood up. “You did. Last I recall you were the only one of us who sought out the bite. You knew what you were getting into.” She flashed him a very false smile. “Don’t play dumb. You know people hate things like us. You knew the consequences of it. So don’t blame this on Derek.”

Jackson crossed his arms in front of his chest. “What do you know Reyes? The only reason you are standing up for him is because he cured you from your sick muggle disease that probably would have killed you by the end of this year. I could see it now. The twitchy little Hufflepuff girl has a seizure on the staircase, makes one wrong step and tumbles seven flights of stairs to her death.” He took a step toward her until they were less than a foot apart. “You wouldn’t understand the scrutiny I would get from the wizarding world especially my uncle by choosing a profession that doesn’t coincide with pureblood ideology. I would be hunted down by ministry officials, reporters, all asking me why I didn’t choose a prestigious career. What would I say? I just didn’t feel like exerting influence over the world to make it a better place, I would rather work in some dingy shop in Knockturn Alley? And before you start again, saying that I knew the consequences of the bite, I didn’t.” His raised voice quieted down but it was still filled with anger, “I forget. It’s hard to remember wizards hate werewolves when everyone tells you your father was a great Auror.”

The fifth year Hufflepuffs were silent until Isaac gasped. “Your dad was a werewolf?”

Jackson nodded. “Yeah.”

Boyd rolled his eyes. “You know what Jackson? You can take your pureblood sob story and shove it up your ass. All I heard was that you thrive on other’s perceptions rather than your own. You want to know something you probably haven’t even considered. At the end of the day even if you are working in Knockturn Alley, you have more than enough money and influence to keep a dozen generations of Whittemores alive. I don’t have that option. At the end of the day, I am the muggleborn Black werewolf who can’t get a job. Period.” Boyd began to pack his things. He stood up and flung his bag strap over his shoulder. “Don’t fucking blame this on Derek either.”

Boyd then left the room in a quiet march.

Derek pressed his hands into his hair as he watched his Beta leave. He was overwhelmed with the thought Erica and Boyd were standing up for him. Did they not get it? He ruined their lives! Why were they so adamant on saving him from Jackson’s blame? He didn’t deserve it.

“I’m sorry.” Derek muttered. He knew the apology wasn’t enough. Apologies were never enough.

“Don’t be,” said Isaac. “You helped me get out of a less than ideal home. That’s enough for me.”

Jackson looked at Derek, “Whatever,” he said before storming out of the room as well, most likely to chase after Boyd. That was as close as an apology Jackson was going to give him.

Erica walked over to Derek and leaned against the armrest.

“You didn’t ruin our lives Derek,” Erica whispered. “You made them so much better. You might not see that now, but you did.

Derek prayed his self-control was strong enough to stop him from crying.

“Plus,” Isaac chimed in. “I wasn’t planning on working anyway, I was just going to mooch off your family for the rest of my life.”

Derek released a soft chuckle.

 

|~~***~~|

 

When Boyd and Jackson had left the room, Isaac found it difficult to concentrate and study. His hands thrummed on the spines of his books as he observed Erica make a study chart for Herbology. He stretched his neck backwards and rolled his head until he was looking at Derek upside down. His Alpha was still brooding, if his fake reading was anything to go by.

Isaac regarded his things on the coffee table. “Alright.” Isaac said. He stuffed parchment and books in the bag, not carrying he was wrinkling a few assignments. “I’m going to go.”

“What?” Erica hollered. “I’m making this chart for you.”

“Give it to me tomorrow.” Isaac said, giving a leaving nod to Derek.

He shut the door quietly behind him and adjusted his bag strap a few times. He walked down the hallway and reached inside his robes. His hands curled around a small furry creature. His dumbo rat looked up at him while blinking rapidly. He scratched the top of it’s head, guilty for waking him up.

“Sorry Mars.” Isaac whispered. The rat nudged against his hand, and quickly went back to sleep. Isaac smiled and tucked the creature back in his designated pocket.

He stood in the middle of the hallways, glancing at both ends. It was a little too early to go back to the Hufflepuff dorm....

He decided to go look for Boyd and settle the damage that Jackson had caused a few minutes prior. He headed down the staircase knowing that Boyd was in his usual secluded corner by the Transfiguration Courtyard.

He descended the moving staircase with his hands stuffed in his pockets. His eyes roamed the castle from the top seventh floor. It was mostly empty. All the fifth and seventh years crowded the library or the common rooms preparing for OWLs and NEWTs, while the other years enjoyed dinner. Isaac thought about joining the rest of the pack for dinner, but his nose suddenly twitched. He recognized Jackson’s scent quickly. He glanced down the staircase and saw Jackson loitering around the fourth floor. Isaac gave a cocky grin and rushed down the stairs to catch up with Jackson.

“Whatcha doin Jackson?” Isaac teased, behind Jackson.

Jackson slowly turned around. “Prefect Rounds.”

Isaac snorted. “It’s six.”

“And?”

“They don’t start till eight.”

Jackson side eyed him harshly. “What do you want Lahey?”

Isaac shrugged. “Bored. You’re looking for Boyd right?” Jackson didn’t answer, but Isaac took that as a yes. “We’ll he’s not here.”

“Obviously.”

“Why don’t you sniff him out?”

“That’s cheating.”

Isaac laughed. “Right. Let me guess, you tried but couldn’t find him? Man you suck at tracking people by scent.”

Jackson began to walk away from him.

Isaac shadowed Jackson out of boredom and the little wolf in the back of his mind was finding this amusing. “I can tell you where he is...but that would be cheating.”

Jackson suddenly stopped. He glared up at Isaac. Isaac couldn’t stop the grin knowing that he was taller than the Slytherin. “If you don’t leave in the next three seconds I’m going to knock your head against one of the portraits.”

Isaac’s helpful mind quickly reminded him of a time when doing anything wrong resulted in corporal punishment. He balled his fist inside his pockets, clenched his teeth, and shook his head. “Oh you just know where to hit where it hurts don’t you?”

“What are you?” Jackson froze. “That’s...I’m.”

“Whatever.” Isaac rolled his eyes and began walking away. Heading to the dorms now seemed nice.

Jackson pursued him. “Isaac. Stop I suck at this.”

“Obviously.” Isaac called over his shoulder, taking the steps down two at a time. “Pissed off three Hufflepuffs in one night that’s a record for you.”

“Isaac, shut the fuck up; I’m trying to apologize.”

Isaac paused on the second floor staircase. He side-eyed Jackson. “You never apologize.”

Jackson looked up at the ceiling. “I do...sometimes.”

Isaac’s eyes narrowed and he descended the stairs quickly again. “Well fuck you. I’m not something you fucking pity, Jackson.”

“Isaac.” But the Hufflepuff wasn’t going to listen. He could take the mean jibes any day, but he despised when people in the pack ever threatened him physically. They all fucking knew what his childhood and half of his adolescence was like. They didn’t have to bring up complicated emotions. The werewolf in Isaac’s mind wanted to bare his canines as Jackson used his werewolf speed to come in front of him.  “Isaac.”

“What?” Isaac spat coldly.

“Stop acting like a washed out knock off from Gladrags and take the apology.”

Isaac looked down at his robes. “This isn’t a knockoff asshole.”

“Sure looks like it or otherwise you wouldn’t be wearing something from last season.”

Isaac guffawed. “It’s black. It’s year round.”

“Not with that collar.”

“ _Merlin._ How hasn’t Stiles murdered you yet?”

“We have blackmail on each other, which is worse than killing anyone.”

Isaac scoffed. “Slytherins.”

Jackson shrugged. His attention was focused off to the side. He seemed a little skittish, his posture was tense, his expression a bit worried, but Isaac didn’t understand why. As much as Isaac loved to fight and rile up Jackson, he didn’t really know much about him. He always figured his hostile and overall doucheynes masked this great sensitive and emotional guy, Lydia had to be in love with him for some reason. But standing here in front of the other, he wasn’t so sure who Jackson was.

Isaac sighed. “Apology accepted. Boyd’s in the Transfiguration Courtyard.”

“Thanks.”

The two began walking there. “Isaac?”

“Yeah?”

“What did Boyd mean when he said he was Black?”

“Huh?” Isaac quickly glanced at Jackson. The other was looking straight ahead.

“He said he was a muggleborn Black werewolf. I don’t understand what Black has to do with it, he was upset about it too.”

Isaac released a breath. “Oh. Yeah he had to explain that one to me our first year. We didn’t talk much back then even though we shared a room, but I remember our first year he was acting quieter than usual and one of our other roommates was worried so he asked him what was wrong. And Boyd asked us if we saw him as Black?”

“And what did you guys say?”

“We said, yeah, but asked what does that have to do with anything? He got upset and he explained how in the muggle world being Black, well isn’t really a good thing. He said it’s getting better but there is still a lot of hate, the same hate muggleborns get here in the wizarding world.”

Jackson scoffed. “Muggles judge people based on their skin color? That’s barbaric.”

“Boyd said we both are. We judge people too. Judge their bloodlines when its something you can’t control.”

Jackson nodded like he somehow understood. “So why did he say being Black would hurt his chances? Race holds no weight in the wizarding world.”

“He said as a muggleborn minority its hard to dissociate yourself with your race. He forgets his race means nothing here.”

“Which is how it should be.” Jackson said quickly.

“No.” Isaac interrupted a little more slowly. “I don’t quite get it, Erica tried to explain it to me during the summer when we were out in muggle London and she said that race is a big part of someone’s identity and ignoring it completely is stripping away who they are. And I think that’s how Boyd sees it. He says he’s grateful he doesn’t get prejudice because of his skin color but he still gets some because of his bloodline.”   

“Because bloodline means everything here.”

Isaac pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek for a brief moment. “Do you honestly believe that?”

Jackson was quiet for a while, mulling the question over. “I’m aware I’m granted privileges because of my status, but I don’t know if I believe in the superiority of it.”

Isaac stopped walking all together. “How do you not know?! There’s been wars because purebloods consider themselves the only true wizards. Purebloods have murdered muggleborns!”

“Because I do like to think I’m superior. It’s all I grew up with. Stripping me from that is taken away my identity, same way Boyd feels I imagine.”

“Except you are at the top, so it’s not really the same thing.”

“But am I at the top? In the eyes of the wizarding world I am, but if they ever found out about _that_...well I would be an abomination. So the question I was faced with that started this whole mess is where do I stand in the eyes of society?”

Isaac laughed bitterly. “Holy Helga you threw a _diva_ fit cause you had an identity crisis. You know what? Nevermind. I expected nothing less from you actually.”

“Shut up Lahey.” Jackson shouted, becoming defensive.

 _“You should shut up.”_ Boyd said coming toward them. “God, you whine a lot. If you are here to apologize I will take it if it will get all of you to stop talking.”

“Done.” Jackson nodded. “This is too emotional for my taste anyway.”

Isaac laughed. “Wow. Anyway who wants to try to get drunk and fail.”

Isaac watched Boyd and Jackson stare at each other. They both shrugged and the three headed down to the kitchens to bargain with House Elves for some liquor.

 

|~~***~~|

 

It was in his first week of Hogwarts back in his first year that Boyd noticed—in a very startled way—that he was one of very few Black students at Hogwarts. He had gone to an inner-city muggle grade school, in which most of the students were young Black kids like himself. It reflected not only the poor condition of the school but of the community. Occasionally, he recalled seeing a few White students, but their numbers made them insignificant.

When he made his discovery, he did a quick survey of the Great Hall the next day, there was himself, Bennett, Kara Simmons, Unger (or was it Reddick? He didn't know who was who), Harley Harlowe, and Danielle Rhodes. Short and simple, there weren’t many Black kids.  And if he widened his criteria to ethnic minorities there was Scott McCall (questionable since he was half Latino and wasn’t connected to his culture) Danny Mahaleni, Greenberg, two Indian kids a year ahead of him, and a few Asian students scattered around.

It dawned on him when he was sitting in his History Class and they were discussing The Muggleborn Civil Rights Era, that race wasn’t as important in the wizarding world as it was in the muggle one. It was a war of purebloods vs everyone else. Creatures included.

So, Boyd berated himself for even telling Jackson that he was Black. Although, if Jackson had been a posh muggleborn, he would not understand the struggle of being a poor Black kid. So even then Jackson wouldn’t understand the meaning of the word.

But Jackson wasn’t muggleborn. He was a pureblood, which meant he understood the significance of it even less.

In the muggle world, you wore your difference on your skin for everyone to see. In the wizarding world, whatever separated you from the norm lurked in your blood and your family tree, waiting to betray you. He wasn’t sure which was worse, because he realized he had intersected all the worst categories. A muggleborn Black werewolf.

On one hand, the wizarding world would never hold racial discrimination because of his Blackness, but they also didn’t acknowledge his Blackness. They stripped away his identity, something contrary to popular belief, he prided greatly. But they also thought less of him because of his muggleborn status. So really there was no win.

He sat in his corner in the Transfiguration Courtyard looking up at the dimming sky. He shut his eyes for a brief moment and then smelled Isaac and Jackson nearing. He concentrated on listening to them.

He snorted as Jackson explained his reasoning for getting so pissy at Derek. It wasn’t justified by any means, but he sort of understood where Jackson was coming from. He got up from his spot and approached the other two, begging them to stop their emotional onslaught. Luckily, it was over and they went to the kitchens to eat an entire turkey and drink firewhiskey.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Derek grumbled entering the Room of Requirement. He noticed quickly, Stiles was the only one in the room. Usually that would have sparked heat in Derek’s belly to rush toward Stiles for a makeout session, since they hadn’t any time to themselves just as predicted, but he was too much in a sour mood to do anything. He collapsed on the sofa as Stiles was in his chair.

“What has you all puffed up?” Stiles asked, not even looking up at him. He was surrounded with books, parchment, and licorice wands. They were tucked in the cushions and balancing on the armrest.

“I didn’t pass the apparation test.”

“Hey if it makes you feel better few people pass the test on their first try.”

“I know, it's still frustrating. I’m eighteen, I should be able to do this.”

Stiles finally looked up. “Not everyone can, Derek. Plus, the examiners come every week till the end of the year, right. You’ll get it.”

Derek sighed at Stiles’ too optimistic tone, but then. “Who said you could sit in my chair?”

Stiles smirked. He stretched, his untucked dress shirt rising up to expose a bit of his flesh. Derek’s sour mood fizzled out and instead he was jumping toward Stiles. Stiles laughed as the recliner chair threatened to topple over. Several of the books fell to the ground and candy flew everywhere. Derek growled. “Get off my chair.”

Stiles grinned. “Make me.”

As if that wasn’t invitation enough. He leaned in to kiss Stiles’ stupid smile off his face. The kiss was short, short enough for Derek to reach under Stiles’ thighs, flip him over, and fling him off the chair.

Stiles protested loudly as he fell onto the floor.

Derek merely grinned.

Stiles narrowed his eyes. “Oh, it’s war!”

He jumped up straight into Derek’s arms. Derek was left with no choice but to fall into the chair. Derek grunted as Stiles’ knee jutted into his rib. “Stiles.” Derek grunted. “This is the eighth time this week you’ve kneed me in the ribs.”

“Seven, it was your dick last time.” Stiles informed, now sitting comfortably in Derek’s lap.

Derek glared, remembering that unfortunate event. He had been kissing Stiles by the Slytherin portrait but then they saw a few first years make their way toward them and in their haste to part, Stiles had kneed Derek in the crotch. The incident had been painful.

Stiles poked Derek between his eyebrows. “Hey, I said sorry, sort of. The last one was kind of funny you have to admit. You know, you struggling to contain all that fury instead of killing me and keeping up your Prefect image in front of impressionable children.”

Derek’s jaw clenched. “You’re terrible.”

“Yeah.” Stiles agreed and then leaned in to kiss Derek. Well, he mashed their lips together more accurately. Derek didn’t mind. He might have released a whimper, but he would deny that if Stiles ever brought it up.

Derek noted that Stiles had become quite eager in this activity. He couldn’t blame him. The opportunities to act like they wanted to were very slim nowadays. They were still highly unsure if they wanted to tell the others they were in a relationship mainly because they hadn’t had a time to test out this relationship because of their stupid nosy friends.

Although, he was coming to the quick realization that dating Stiles wasn’t really different from being his friend, there was just more kissing involved.

As Stiles eagerly pushed his tongue in Derek’s mouth, Derek smelled something strange in the air. It seemed like rotten fruit. Derek pulled back from the kiss quickly.

“You were upset before I came in?”

“Huh?” Stiles asked, still trying to connect the kiss.

Derek pressed his head against the cushion to avoid it.

“Oh!” Stiles announced. “Yeah...well not anymore.” He lied.

“Stiles. What happened?”

Stiles looked over his shoulder setting his sights on the ground. Derek followed his line of vision. He looked back at Stiles as the Slytherin spoke, “I finished translating the Moonwalker book.”

“You did?”

Stiles climbed off his lap and Derek’s consciousness reminded him he just cockblocked himself.

“Well I finished translating Rhea’s part and it’s not pretty.”

“Why?”

Stiles leaned down and picked up his toppled Moonwalker book and all his notes. He stuffed the loose pieces of paper under Derek’s nose. Derek grasped the parchment and glanced at Stiles before reading.

_I knew that my children had the ability to possess the same abilities that I had, but after practicing for nearly six years no one was achieving that raw power._

_My eldest son was now twenty years old, he had his own family and two children who had gained the gift as well. He continued practicing his magic, but it was so weak compared to mine and he could not produce the magic that I held in my hands. I did not want to pass away without passing all my knowledge to my children._

_I prayed to My Goddess Pandia and asked for her guidance. She graced me with the knowledge that my children had yet to unlock the third and last stage of their magic. Achieving the last stage, was simple but painful. It was similar to the second stage, one needed to bleed in the river under the full moon, but this time adding the blood of a werewolf sealed it all._

_I knew what I had to do, I took my eight children to the river. I informed them to perform the same ritual they did six years ago. All of them obeyed without question. They sliced open their own skins and as they did, I brought forth my eldest son’s best friend, a werewolf, to come join us. I gave the werewolf a sword._

_My children were confused._

_Without any hesitation, I commanded the werewolf to kill himself. The river turned red and the moon shone upon my children, my Moonwalkers. Another four of my children died that night, but I knew they would die already. They were weak._

_My eldest son survived and I could tell that he was going to be the strong one despite his infatuation with werewolves. He grasped his friend and cried the entire night._

_I don’t understand his sympathy for——_

Derek looked back up at Stiles. “Why does it stop there?”

Stiles rubbed his hand over his buzz cut. “Because that’s where I am assuming her eldest son Nereus killed her.”

“Excuse me.”

“Yeah. I haven’t finished translating his section but he takes over for his mom. He goes on about the cruelty of his mother which prompted him to murder her for murdering his best friend and siblings. Although, he still acknowledges his powers as something that can be used for good so he explains what a Moonwalker can do in a third stage, which is incredible. They can run as fast as werewolves, make protection spells for other Moonwalkers, summon flames without a wand, there’s more but I’m not done translating.” Stiles paused and fidgeted with his hands. “And I don’t know if I want to. There’s no point in activating that stage, after all.”

Derek observed Stiles and saw the clear turmoil in his eyes. Derek glanced back to the book in his hands and idly flipped through it. He couldn’t read it obviously, the entire book was blank to his eyes, but something in the book was strange. He flipped to the last thirty pages. The parchment was new instead of dead animal skin.

“Stiles?”

The boy hummed.

“Why are the last pages new parchment?”

Stiles shrugged. Derek dropped the subject and closed the book. He got up and climbed onto the sofa to sit next to Stiles.

He wasn’t very good at this. This comforting thing. Stiles was so good at it. He knew when someone just wanted an ear, or when someone was seeking advice, or when someone just wanted to be held. Derek wasn’t that good at reading people. He wanted to try so hard for Stiles though.

Derek didn’t really know what to say though so he kept quiet. It was also to save them the trouble of an argument in case he said the wrong thing. Instead, Derek reached his hand up, his palm brushed against Stiles’ cheek as he worked it around to slide his fingers at the back of Stiles’ head. He cradled his head and rubbed his thumb on Stiles head. Stiles sighed and gave a weak smile. He leaned to the side and found Derek’s mouth to kiss him again.

It was dry and chaste. Only a kiss of comfort.

And then, the door of the room was flinging open, and with Derek’s quick reflexes he stood before anyone noticed.

“Hey have you guys seen Erica?” Boyd asked, at the entryway.

“No.” Derek hated how his voice sounded.

He looked at Stiles quickly and watched him lick his lips. Dammit. He turned away from him, hoping Boyd wouldn’t smell the air around them.

“Damn.”

Stiles peeked over the sofa, still a little red in the face. “Are you guys making up?”

Boyd shrugged. “Yeah. I guess. Its’ been what a few weeks? I think that’s enough time. Anyway, I’ll catch you guys around dinner, don’t be late.” He then left closing the door.

Derek sighed.

“That was close.” Stiles said. The smell of rotten fruit was still lingering around him, but it was now dissipating.

“Yeah.”

“Oh before I forget, I was actually waiting for you before I began translating. I didn’t understand how to do this spell for DADA, can you help?”

Derek shrugged, nudging Stiles on the sofa to give him room to sit down. “What do you need help on?”

“Uh with jinxes.”

“Which one?”

Stiles smiled. “All of them.”

Derek gave him a long stare before sighing. “Ok so…”

 

|~~***~~|

 

Jennifer Blake was in her fox animagus. She glanced around the dark forest with her superior eyes. She heard a snap to her right. She hissed, canines exposed. Her tail lowered when she saw the six people she was waiting for.

“You’re late.” She said turning back to her human form.

“Your directions were most unhelpful.” The leader of the hunters spoke.

“Enough. C’mon the passageway is this way. It is big enough for you to rest there as well. We can’t attack yet.”

“When?” The leader asked, following her.

“Soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: You know what I feel like we don’t get enough of? Derek’s Betas being protective of Derek, you mostly see them in fanfiction be protective of Stiles, but I really think Boyd, Erica, and Isaac would defend Derek to the last breath. Also, you know what I have found super interesting in the Harry Potter world but the books never really addressed, race. I know race is a social construct but that doesn’t make racism any less real. And I always wondered how race was regarded in the wizarding world and I don’t even think its considered. Blaise Zabini is black and a pureblood, so I don’t think race has anything to do with it. It must be really confusing I think for muggleborn minorities, so that’s why I wrote in Boyd’s and Jackson’s scene. Also I kind of wanted to include something I encountered in college and incorporate it into my story, cause I’m Latina and I enrolled at a predominately white school and it was just so weird because I wasn’t used to seeing another race, which is what Boyd is feeling and sees a distinct lack of minorities at school. 
> 
> So yeah...enough of that rant.
> 
> Tell me what you thought of this chapter! I was going to upload this chapter on Sunday but I forgot its easter sunday and I’m going to be busy with family that day, so here you guys go! Oh, before I forget the chapters are going to be short for a few chapters because I don't think some themes in one chapter mesh well with the theme of another so yeah...


	38. O.W.L.S

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pack prepares for the last Quidditch match and OWLs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a few French phrases. If you hover with your mouse you can see the translation, if that doesn't work at the bottom of the page I have the translations.

The pit-pat of Allison’s quill against her hundred year old desk eased her twitchy mind. Her eyes glazed over the blackboard filled with confusing equations. She mentally berated her mind to focus at least one of the equations. She tilted her head and scrunched her eyes when the equation just looked like a jumbled mess of gibberish. She let out a breath of air and did a once-over of the classroom. Lydia, beside her, was painting her nails as she had already studied this portion of Arithmancy a week ago. In front of her, she could see Boyd and Jackson whispering as they compared notes in front of her. Behind her, Stiles commandeered an entire desk while he studied for another class. There were books, parchment, ink goblets, and several boxes of licorice wands. At the moment, he had a quill in his mouth and was chewing the tip while he flipped through some pages. His tongue stuck out in a comical way as he accidentally broke off a few feathers. She chuckled softly and turned to look at the clock.

Five more minutes.

Five more minutes until she could see Scott.

“Ms. Argent?” The professor called. “May you please do question eight on the board.”

Allison opened her mouth. She hadn’t done any of the work. She heard a cough and Lydia passed a sheet to her. Allison mouthed a thank you.

She shrugged down her skirt as she walked to the board. She followed Lydia’s meticulous handwriting and went back to her desk when the professor thanked her.

The bell rang.

Allison sprung from her seat and dashed out the door. She could see Scott already turning the corner. Allison smiled, knowing he had ran from the Divination tower to come see her.

His arms wrapped around her waist and twirled her around as she gave him a deep kiss.

“Missed you.” Scott nuzzled her nose.

“I missed you more,” Allison said.

“Do you want to go eat by the lake?” Scott asked. “I packed some sandwiches.”

Allison really wanted to go with him, but she couldn’t. “Sorry, it’s Tuesday.”

Scott groaned. “Oh, right. I forgot. Today is tea day.”

“Yup.” Allison smiled. She pecked him on the lips. “I’ll see you after lunch, ok?”

Scott nodded. “I’ll just hang out with Stiles.” He pulled away from Allison and looked behind her. “Where is he?”

“He went running out the door right after you did,” Lydia answered coming up behind Allison. Jackson had an arm slung over her shoulders, while Boyd walked beside them.

“Why?” Scott questioned.

Lydia rolled her eyes, “To work out. To go pee. Does anything he do make sense?”

Boyd merely laughed.

Allison scrunched her nose in confusion. She shrugged and pecked her boyfriend on the lips again. “I gotta go.”

Scott smiled and headed off with Lydia, Jackson, and Boyd.

Allison descended the moving staircase until she reached her father’s floor. She knocked on the door and entered his office. He was already standing by the window brewing some tea. Allison greeted him and set her stuff down on his sofa. She hopped over to his grindylow aquarium. She crouched and tapped the glass, greeting the two baby grindylows. They hissed back at her and Allison smiled. She stood up straight and took the tea her dad gave her.

“Ewww.” Allison coughed. “What is that?”

“I’m not sure. Bobby gave me the tea. He said its calming.”

 _“ C'est répugnant!;_ She said switching to French, placing the mug on the coffee table between them. She kicked off her shoes before she tucked her feet underneath her legs.

“How has your week back been?” Her father asked.

“Ok, studying mostly.”

“Really? Glad to hear instead of you know, investigating a case that from my knowledge isn’t officially closed.”

Allison shyly smiled and tried to play the innocent look. Her dad merely laughed and she dropped it with a pout. Her voice became a whisper, _"Je ne peux pas m'en empêcher…"_

“Don’t worry, I’m not mad.” He finally drank from his tea. He spluttered it and scrunched his face. He put his mug on the table as well.

“Why?” Allison questioned.

_ "Tu es une Argent. C'est inscrit dans ton sang." _

Allison fumbled with her family crest hanging from her neck. “Don’t...don’t say that.”

Her father leaned forward. “Allison, what you think of the Argent name hasn’t always been as tainted as you think. Pure silver isn’t perfect or glimmering, it’s dented and filled with blemishes. Do you remember that old tapestry we had in our home back in France that had our family tree dating back to the Middle Ages? You were only nine when I took it down from the parlor so I’m not sure if you remember.”

“The one the doxies bit in certain areas?”

“Doxies never bit through it. Our ancestors blasted off people’s names when they wouldn’t conform to pureblood belief. I’m sure if Gerard hadn’t been sent to Azkaban, I would have been blasted off and renounced of the Argent name.”

Allison bit her lip. She looked up at her dad. “Why did you rebel against him?”

“Because I learned the truth.” He stood up and took both of their mugs. He vanished their drinks with a flick of his wand and began preparing a new batch of tea. “Our ancestors who deviated from the social norm didn’t want to hunt werewolves for game or to cleanse the wizarding blood line. They wanted to seek them out and stop them from killing and help them, find a way to integrate them into society because they knew werewolves could function as any other person if they had control. When I had learned what they wanted to do, I decided to speak against Gerard and Kate; I knew it would help the Hales who had been wrongfully murdered.”

He picked up a few jars of herbs, examining which one to use. He looked utterly lost that Allison stood up and picked up the Pixie Plum flavor. She ushered her dad to go sit down as she brewed the tea.

Her father began to speak again, slowly this time. “Victoria was very displeased with me when I did that, our relationship began breaking apart.” Allison stilled her movements. Her father didn’t speak about her mother often. “She tried to switch her displeasure with me by trying to focus on you and fill you with pureblood mania, thankfully, I raised a smart daughter and you didn’t go along with the hunter initiation every Argent must do at fourteen.”

Allison faced her father. “You did it, didn’t you?”

“If I hadn’t, Gerard would have killed me. I wish I was brave enough at that age as you are to stand up for what’s right. _Merci._ ” He took the steaming mug from her.

Allison sat back down with her own mug. “Did you kill a pack?”

“No, it’s not customary to kill a pack. Usually just killing an Omega is fine. Kate was an overachiever and she wanted to recreate the mass killings that hunters did on werewolves between 1994 and 1996. She wanted to set up a name for herself so she did research, found out a few of our cousins had been supposedly murdered by a Hale in the early summer of 2003.”

Allison nodded, taking this new information in. She glanced out the window. She could see a perfect view of the Forbidden Forest. She saw, but didn’t take much notice, Stiles arguing with Derek. Stiles then laughed, pushed Derek, and ran inside the forest with Derek on his heels. She turned back to her mug and swirled her spoon in the mug, asking the question that had plagued her for a long time. “Why did you still train me, if you knew it was wrong to kill werewolves?”

“Because I wanted to set up a new reign of Argents where we helped them. But dealing with werewolves is dangerous so you needed a way to defend yourself. I taught you how to fight much differently than Gerard taught me. Aim for the weak points only to wound not kill, with Gerard it was always kill.”

Allison scoffed. “You didn’t teach me well enough. I still fell ploy to werewolf prejudice. I tried to kill Derek Hale ,did you know that, last semester when he bit Lydia. I almost did it too. I kept hearing mom’s voice over and over again. I’m just filled with cruel instinct like Gerard and Kate. And I always find these intrusive thoughts about werewolves that they’re monsters and I find myself questioning sometimes why am I friends with them, why am I dating one?”

“Allison,” Her dad smiled and leaned over the coffee table to place a hand on her knee. “But you didn’t kill him and you obviously have those thoughts because of your mother and I’m sorry for that, but you always pull through and rationalize that those intrusive thoughts are wrong. Remember your first thought is what society has conditioned you to think, the second thought defines who you are. And what you are is Allison Argent the one will take the family name out of its dark history.”

“That’s a lot of pressure dad.” Allison laughed.

 _"Je suis désolé."_ He leaned back into his chair. “You can be whoever you want to be. Bertie Botts?” He lifted a jar filled with them. Allison reached forward and looked for the green ones. “Ugh phlegm flavored.” She drank more of her tea.

“I don’t know why you don’t go for the dark violet ones. Those are always black licorice.”

“Nobody likes black licorice dad. They’re made of child tears.”

He plopped two in his mouth.

Allison giggled and tried her luck again with the green ones. Pear flavored, yes. As she searched for another one her father asked her, “Speaking of futures, you had career counseling with Bobby Finstock, how did that go?”

Allison groaned. “Don’t remind me, it was a train wreck. I don’t even understand half the things he was telling me.”

“He speaks highly of you in the staff room. Says he’s impressed that you’ve improved in Charms.”

“From Cora’s help mostly in exchange for Potion lessons. I’m still really bad in Transfiguration though. Stiles is trying to teach everyone, but he’s really busy studying for DADA. Lydia was actually considering forming a huge study session with all the fifth years where we have supplemental instruction with each other. She’s mad for trying to plan something so big.”

“From what you’ve told me, Lydia can get it done.”

“Yup. Doesn’t make her any less insane though.”

“Out of curiosity though, what were you considering doing as a career?”

“I don’t know.” She bit her lip. “I feel like I’m the only one out of my friends who hasn’t a clue. Lydia wants to be an Arthimancer, Boyd is going to discover and decode every Ancient Rune, Stiles is joining some prestigious Transfiguration organization, Scott, although he doesn’t know how, wants to be an auror.”

“I can actually see Scott doing that.”

“Really?” Allison smiled in glee.

Her dad glared. _"Je ne vais pas te le dire encore une fois, Allison."_

Allison clapped once as she laughed. “He’ll be so thrilled you’ve complimented him.”

“Don’t expect it again.”

“Oh I will.”

She took a sip from her mug and nearly spit it out when her dad asked with her without any warning. “What are your feelings toward him?”

“Huh? What do you mean?” She wiped her chin with the sleeve of her robes.

“Do you—”

“I love him, dad.” She answered quickly. “I mean,” She fumbled with a frayed thread at the end of her skirt, “He makes my heart all fluttery and when I’m not around him, I feel like I can’t breathe until he’s there. He’s all I can think about sometimes. What? Why are you frowning?”

“Allison, are you sure that’s what you would define as love, those feelings tend to gradually go away when you're with a person for a long time.”

“They won’t disappear.” She leaned forward and picked around the Bertie Bott’s bowl, looking for more green ones.

“Allison, they will and I speak of this with someone with more experience.”

“Experience?” Allison shot back quickly. “You had me when you were seventeen straight out of Beauxbatons. What kind of experience are you talking about? I know I love him. And he loves me. He will do anything for me, he says so. It’s romantic don’t you think?”

Her father kept silent.

 

|~~***~~|

 

“Are you ready?”

“I’m always ready.”

“Good, cause it’s going to be war.” Jackson snarled.

“I know. Everyone’s prepared.” Stiles stated with his jaw clenched.

Their words would have been taken more seriously if they weren't shoving fluffy pancakes in their mouth with pumpkin juice. It was the day of the final Quidditch match between Slytherin and Hufflepuff and these two were taking it very very seriously.

“Ready to die Whittemore?” Erica chimed as she slid on the bench of the Slytherin table. Isaac gave a crooked grin as he slid next to her. Both of them made themselves at home on the Slytherin table despite all the Slytherins were glaring at them.

Quidditch day was a serious matter.

“The only spilled blood here will be mattered with black and yellow.” Jackson shot back to her.

Erica and Isaac shared a twin look. “Oh Jackson,” Isaac batted his eyelashes and gave a pout that he probably thought was sexy. “You just know how to make a guy all hot and bothered, don’t you.”

“Merlin, really?” Lydia said, finally emerging. She squeezed between Jackson and Stiles. She pecked Jackson on the cheek before chastising the group. “Arguing over Quidditch already? Sweetie, it’s breakfast, please.”

“Lydia.” Jackson retorted. “This is the last game.”

The group’s attention diverted to the their Gryffindor friends who arrived. They sat across from the Slytherins.

Cora leaned forward. “Exactly,” She smirked. “This is the game that will decide if Gryffindor or Slytherin will win first place this year. Erica, you need to crush them.”

Erica scoffed, “Oh I plan to.”

“Please,” Stiles shot to her. “We are going to pummel you so hard they will be looking for your body for weeks.”

“I dare you to try,” Erica snarled.

The twinkle in her eyes dared Stiles to continue the conversation, but his little cloud of sarcastic wit drifted away when he saw Boyd and Derek.

“What the hell? Derek!” Stiles cried loudly. The entire Great Hall was now looking at the pack’s direction with amusement. “How could you betray me!”

Boyd sat next to Erica, wearing black and gold, but it was Derek that was garnering all the attention. A hat has been transfigured into a life-like badger’s head, which was perched precariously on his head. The badger moved around and when it saw the green all across him, it hissed loudly. A few of the first year Slytherins sitting around them, jumped.

Derek chewed through his words. “It wasn’t my idea.”

“Oh right!” Stiles shouted dramatically.  “That’s why you are still wearing it proudly!”

Derek glanced to the side, breathed deeply, and looked back at Stiles. “It’s spellotaped to my head.”

Cora and Scott snorted out their pumpkin juice. Lydia smirked at his comment and handed the two Gryffindors a handkerchief.

“And someone,” Derek nearly growled in Erica and Isaac’s direction. “Hid my wand. And someone else,” This time he looked at Boyd, “Refuses to cooperate and help.

Boyd shrugged and calmly buttered his toast. “Erica offered me a limited edition of Fulbert the Fearful’s chocolate frog card, if I helped.”

Stiles was not having any of this. He didn’t want his boyfriend cheering for the other team. So petulantly, he pulled out his wand, _“Finite!”_

An explosion quieted down the hall. When the grey smoke cleared, everyone could see Derek’s blackened face and singed hair. All the Slytherin went into hysterics, minus Stiles, who was planning a way to escape the Great Hall without being noticed.

Erica cackled. “Nope. That won’t work Stiles. Charm spell was done by Cora, you are going to have to try a lot harder than a simple banishing spell. In the meantime, Derek is supporting the house he belongs to, as he should he be.”

Allison transfigured a spoon into a handkerchief (which she had done with much glee as she had been practicing the spell all week) and offered it to Derek. Derek wiped his face clean and glared specifically at Stiles. "I hate all of you.”

Lydia offered Derek a muffin to calm his homicidal mood, “I hate this game too, Derek, it’s so pointless.” She took a small tangerine off the table and began peeling it. “I don’t know why we are having it. Everyone knows Slytherin is going to win anyway.”

Erica, Cora, and Isaac both gasped.

“Oh hell no,” Erica shouted. She dropped her knife and stood on the bench. Already, Stiles could hear the staff table tell Erica to get down but she wasn’t listening as she began chanting “Hufflepuff, Hufflepuff!”

The entire Hufflepuff table went wild and began to chant as well, shortly after the Gryffindor table joined the commotion.

Jackson was about to protest but Malia, who had been sitting further down the table, got up and placed a hand on Jackson’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Captain. I’ve got this.”

Malia pushed Stiles to the side forcefully to climb on the bench and then on the table.

She placed her wand over her throat to maximize her voice.

 _“Hufflepuff Hufflepuff_  
_Enough is Enough!_  
_You think you’re hot stuff_  
_But you ain’t tough!_  
_Reyes can’t see a thing_  
_Lahey can’t even swing!_  
_Hufflepuff Hufflepuff,  
Oh sure enough_  
_We’ll leave you in a huff!”_

Shortly after, Unger and Reddick, and surprisingly Danny, began to chant with her loudly. Erica and Isaac sent daggers at the Slytherin girl. Stiles yelped loudly as Malia manhandled him roughly. She yanked him on the table and Stiles couldn’t apologize for the broken plates as Malia urged him to chant with her. Stiles laughed. He placed his arm over her shoulder and shouted the chant. Soon, the Slytherin table began screaming in unison. Lydia, got the Ravenclaw table to join in with them.

The Great Hall was then filled with a chorus of different shouts and chants. The staff tried to calm everyone down but it wasn’t working. Professor Finstock had to come onto the scene and threatened to turn everyone into his grandmother’s tea cozies for the Great Hall to quiet down.

Most of the Great Hall was still laughing, although when Stiles turned to the end of the table, he saw Matt was the only one not participating in any of the events. He was just blindly moving his eggs around his plate and staring off into space.

 

|~~***~~|

 

“Good luck,” Derek grumbled.

Stiles wanted to laugh. He couldn’t take Derek seriously at all with that dumb badger thing. Stiles reached for the fur on top of Derek’s head and pretended to be angry as the badger hissed at him loudly. “Shouldn’t you be cheering for Erica and Isaac? They’ll get jealous you know.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “I’m sure they will manage.”

Stiles smiled brightly. He made sure no one was looking and pecked Derek on the cheek before rushing to Slytherin locker room to change into his Quidditch gear. When he arrived, Danny sent him a smirk that Stiles returned by childishly sticking out his tongue.

The game was intense.

Isaac used all his force to knock the Chasers off their brooms. Stiles had fallen off his broom four times already, but luckily Unger and Reddick were able to catch him each time before he tumbled to the ground and broke an arm. Aiden was providing as a good decoy to Hufflepuff’s strong defense so the Slytherin team could score. Jackson was shouting out orders to hone in and destroy Hufflepuff’s defense. It got them the upper edge, that when Erica caught the snitch, Slytherin still won the game with more points.  

Celebrations at Slytherin’s win for the Quidditch Cup were held in the Room of Requirement with the pack, Danny, Aiden, and Ethan. Erica was entirely bitter about the loss, but after her makeup with Boyd her frown couldn’t stay that way forever.

Everyone seemed to be on top of one another as they grouped together and laughed. Stiles was sitting next to Derek. His legs were on Derek's lap and Derek was holding onto his legs lazily as he chatted with Boyd. Stiles looked around the room and thought about just telling everyone about him and Derek.

Derek and him had been talking about it as of late and felt pretty confident in their relationship to tell the others. Stiles tried to picture everyone’s reactions. Scott and Cora’s would probably be the funniest. It was so going to be worth it. He opened his mouth to announce it to the group, but the twins beat him to the punch.

They stood in front of the entire group, grinning from ear to ear.

“We have an announcement,” Aiden spoke up.

Jackson snorted. “Ugh here we go, dramatic speeches are coming.”

“Shut the fuck up Jackson.” Stiles and Danny said in tandem.

“Well, we just want to say,” Ethan continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted, “Thank you for putting up for all the shit we pulled, but. Well. We kind of wanted to say goodbye.”

The cheer in the room chilled into silence.

“What?” Scott whined.

Ethan continued to smile. “We decided to leave Hogwarts.”

Lydia, who had been sitting in Jackson’s lap huffed out a “You’re kidding.”

“No.” Aiden said. He shuffled from foot to foot, looked at his brother, and then back at the group. “We don’t have the best grades. From the practice exams we’ve been taking we know we aren’t going to do well for OWL’s next week. And...we know we can’t really get a job because well…” Everyone sent an inconspicuous glance at Danny, who was still unaware of the situation. “Yeah. So we’re leaving.”

Danny threw his hand of exploding snap to the ground. It boomed by Isaac’s rat, but the rat only lifted it’s head and then set it back down to sleep. He stood. “You can’t leave.” Danny interjected.

Ethan gave a genuine smile at Danny. It gave Stiles a small glimpse of the relationship that had been there between the two before the Deucalion fiasco. He wondered why Danny never pursued that relationship ever again.

“Yeah we can Danny,” Ethan said. “It’s not something we decided out of the blue. We took a long time thinking this over and we made our choice.”

Danny still didn’t seem convinced, “What are you going to do?” He asked.

“Uh...we have a pretty nice allowance saved up,” the twins glanced at Scott and Stiles. Stiles remembered that Deucalion had left the twins money. “And we decided to put that money to good use, we’re going to open up a wizard orphanage, you don’t need any test for that.”

Aiden sighed. “Morrell actually gave me the idea. She said there’s a bunch of muggle ones but there aren’t many for wizards, any good ones at least. We want to change that.”

“Are you sure?” Lydia questioned Aiden.

The twins nodded. Ethan took over. “We talked to Deaton already. We’re leaving tomorrow, no point in staying. So yeah, this is our goodbye.”

The pack all looked at each other. The pack never forgave Ethan and Aiden for what they did several months ago, but just like the twins felt for Deucalion, the pack understood the twins, which had them lamenting that the two werewolves would be leaving. There was no point in convincing them, the twins were stubborn individuals and it did seem like they knew what they were doing. So Cora, Stiles, and Scott snuck out of the room to go to the kitchens and asked the house elves for the biggest brandy they could get their hands on.

When they returned, Stiles saw Danny and Ethan sitting in a corner of the room. Both of them were on the floor and sitting close enough where their knees knocked against each other. He couldn’t hear them, so he assumed the two had cast a silencing spell.

Stiles continued watching them and placed the brandy on the coffee table as Allison practiced transfiguring cups for the group.  

He saw Ethan throw his head back in what Stiles assumed was a loud laugh. Stiles felt Scott tug his sleeve but Stiles couldn’t turn away from the intimate moment as Danny leaned in and gave Ethan a long sweet kiss.

Stiles felt a small little ache for Danny, but Danny didn’t seem as affected. He stood up and pulled Ethan with him. He guided Ethan back to the group and began the toast, wishing the twins good luck.

 

|~~***~~|

 

It was the first week of June. Stiles sat in his assigned seat. The Great Hall’s four tables had been removed and replaced with individual seats that all faced the staff table where Morrell faced them. She turned over the hour glass on the desk beside her.

Stiles turned over his paper. Next to him, Lydia was already writing without any struggle.

Stiles glanced at the first question for the Charms test.

_Give the incantation for a simple color change and describe the wand movement._

Stiles smiled and began to write.

The practical was shortly after and Stiles felt he did decent enough.

As soon as the exam was over, Stiles was standing in front of all the fifth years, giving an impromptu lesson for their Transfiguration test the following day. Lydia had set up study sessions for every subject and all the fifth years were taking her schedule seriously. Although as Stiles rattled on why transfiguring your tupperware into a phallic shape was inappropriate at least in front of Professor Blake, many of the students were beginning to question his sanity. Scott was the only one who was listening and taking diligent notes as he was the only one in the entire room able to understand that Stiles was giving a riveting speech on how to do shape transfiguration.

Stiles grew awkward in front of the fifth years quickly as he kept seeing the blank faces. Luckily, Derek (who had been forced to stay with them by Lydia) was there to help. He directed the fifth years attention to him and began to instruct the class in a very precise manner. Stiles couldn’t help but grin at Derek’s professor like demeanor and he most definitely did _not_ make fun of him for the rest of the day.

When the test day for Transfiguration came, Stiles hadn’t even considered anything less than receiving an O. The witch administering the test was so shocked at his skill level, she had called over two other administrators to watch him conjure yellow canaries from thin air.

On Wednesday was Herbology. Stiles had been bitten by both a Fanged Geranium and a Mandrake. He felt he done well considering that more than half the students had left the exam room with several wounds. The school Healer had been ready and when student lined up at her door she had the right potions ready for them.

Thursday was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Here, Stiles panicked. He had no problem with any of the written questions, he took particular pleasure when a question had said give five characteristics of a werewolf and of a banshee. Although, during the practical, Stiles felt himself growing faint. Scott had squeezed his hand in comfort before he went inside the room.

Stiles felt shaky on his stunning spell, despite practicing with Derek the entire night. The administrator's tight lips informed Stiles that he was only doing average work. But there was something utmost Slytherin-like telling Stiles that he was not average.

“Um...is there any way I can um...get extra credit?” Stiles asked.

The wizard marked something in his clipboard. “Not unless it’s some serious advanced magic, but I doubt—”

“No. I can, just please.” Stiles said, licking his lips.

The wizard looked like he wanted to be somewhere else, but he just decided to wave his hand as a go ahead.

Stiles took a step back, focusing deeply on his mother.

_“Expecto Patronum!”_

He had practiced the spell enough times with Derek that he was confident he would produce the shimmering barrier of silver. However, he was a little shocked as he watched an African Grey Parrot erupt from the end of his wand and soar around the ceiling of the Great Hall. All the examiners looked around to watch its progress and when it dissolved into a silver mist, the wizard administering the test, clapped his hands enthusiastically with a bright smile.

“Excellent!” He said. “Very well, Stilinski you may go.”

Stiles took a while to move. The patronus, it was the exact same as his mother’s. He released a smile with a weak breath as he stepped out.

Derek was there waiting for him.

“How did it go?” Derek asked immediately.

Stiles for the first time could not form any words.

“Stiles?”

Stiles mouth opened wide. At first there were no noise, but then slowly a very high pitched wail began to form at the back of his throat and release out in the open. Derek took a step back obviously startled.

“Stiles?” He tried again.

Stiles then exploded and flailed all over the place. Derek rolled his eyes and waited for Stiles to calm down before he explained to him he passed his apparation test. It took Stiles another ten minutes to stop flailing like an idiot.

Friday, had passed with a breeze for Stiles, Boyd, and Lydia. The three had tons of practice all throughout the year in Ancient Runes as they had been translating Stiles’ highly complicated Moonwalker book. They turned in their exam before everyone else as all the other students glared.

The weekend arrived where the pack set up a Potions lab inside the Room of Requirement, studying their assess off. There had been a few explosions, singed hair and eyebrows. And there had been a reprimanding Derek, who gave Jackson and Scott an honest to god time-out on opposite corners of the Room for a petty argument. Lydia and Stiles didn’t let the two live it down, and took pictures for every play by play.

Monday finally came and Stiles felt a bit unsure in History of Magic, he felt he had missed the big picture in certain areas but he hoped his essays alluded to questions at least. Tuesday was a free day where he brushed up on Arithmancy and Astronomy for Wednesday. And then finally came the final exam for Potions.

The written exam was next. Stiles felt good with the theory part. However, as he got to question number twenty-one, he froze, and not entirely sure why.

_21\. Name the effects of Polyjuice Potion._

He felt this was highly important. Stiles stopped at the exact time Lydia had. She dropped her quill. The clatter of it echoed in the room. His attention fell on her as he watched her eyes cloud over like a storm.

Crap, not here.

It lasted for a full minute as Stiles glanced between Lydia and the hourglass. And then Lydia was speaking, it sounded loud in the room where only quill scratches could be heard, “Julia Baccari.” She whispered.

“No talking. First and last warning Ms. Martin.” The examiner said from the front of the room.

Lydia nodded, turning back to her paper with shaky hands. Stiles watched for her a moment and continued with his own exam.

Both of them disregarded her episode as the practical portion came right after the written exam.

All of them waited patiently by their cauldrons. However, as the examiner came out she looked at the pack strangely. “Why are you wearing a clothes pin on your nose dear?” The witch asked Cora. Stiles grinned as he looked at all the werewolves. It had been Allison’s idea for them to wear them as the werewolves couldn’t stop sneezing into their cauldrons during practice. Derek had been sulking the night before that he hadn’t thought of the idea when he took the exam in his fifth year. Stiles tried to cheer him up with stolen kisses in empty hallways.

“Uh a lot of us are highly allergic to certain potion ingredients.” Cora informed her.

“Oh, will you be ok?” The witch’s voice rose in concern. “Do you kids want a pair of gloves?”

“No we’re good, it’s mostly the fumes.”

“Ok, well, instructions are on the board, you may begin.”

Stiles felt like he did somewhat better without Harris breathing down his throat. Although, his confidence dwindled a little bit when he saw Allison’s, Lydia’s, and surprisingly Scott’s vial a neon orange instead of just an orange. He tried not to dwell on it too long as OWL’s finally came to an end.

The entire pack had passed out on the Room of Requirement floor.

Derek bustled into the room and Stiles couldn’t stop the grin as he saw a genuinely happy Derek. He took a deep breath to calm his racing heart. He did not want to come across as too jittery and he hoped the pack was oblivious.

He was trying his best to not let himself think too much. He had come to the conclusion that thinking was what caused his nerves to get the better of him. He knew he liked Derek at this point, and he was determined to not let his overly logical (illogical) brain get in the way with his and Derek’s relationship.

Derek sat next to him on the floor. His hand briefly brushed Stiles’ inner wrist. Stiles was relieved that Derek had become more comfortable around him. It was a refreshing bit of happiness amongst all the stress and tension that had been piling up for the past semester.

He began wondering when they would tell the pack. It had been two months of sneaking around, which was in itself was fun, but tiring.

Speaking of tiring…

“I was wondering if we could go for a run...maybe?” Derek asked awkwardly.

Several of the werewolves made various groans. “Why?” Cora whined.

“To celebrate all of you finishing OWLs?”

“We can watch you run if you’re just looking some company,” Boyd said.

“Oh. Well you’re welcome to watch but the point was to run together.”

All the werewolves glanced at Derek and Stiles knew what they were thinking. Derek rarely asked for things he genuinely wanted, turning this down would have Derek return to his little awkward turtle shell.

Scott was the first to agree. All the werewolves stood up. Stiles really wanted to go with his boyfriend, but he sort of figured this was a werewolf thing. He wished everyone off and stayed in the comfort of the room with Allison and Lydia.

Stiles took a small nap on the couch as Allison and Lydia talked about some girly things. When he awoke, Lydia was poking at him with her manicured nail. He swatted her hand away as he sat up.

“Polyjuice Potion.” Lydia said.

“Huh?” Stiles was still disoriented. He rubbed his eyes and got a strange feeling in his gut.

“What about it?” Allison asked.

Lydia gulped. “I might be overthinking it but Blake is taking Polyjuice Potion.”

Allison laughed, but Stiles didn’t. He felt it too, “Why do you think that?”

“She’s always drinking out of a vial, since first year, she never leaves that vial alone.”

“Maybe she’s an alcoholic,” Allison commented.

“No, I just have a strong feeling about this, please, trust me.” Lydia said.

Allison sat straight. “Does this have to do what you said during the Potions exam?”

Lydia nodded. “The spirits spoke to me, they kept repeating that name over and over again.”

“So…” Stiles trailed. “Are you thinking Blake is this Julia person?”

Lydia nodded. “Do you remember at the beginning of this year when I had my vision in the Forbidden Forest, Harris tried to give me counseling? When I was in his office, I remember seeing him brew Polyjuice Potion. I’ve visited his office before and he always has a batch.”

Allison and Stiles grew quiet.

“There’s more,” Lydia spoke as if she was out of breath. “I remember distinctly him brewing an extremely complicated potion involving thestral bones, blood, and wolfsbane. Deaton and Morrell told us back when we were trying to stop the ritual that to complete it they would have to brew a potion and the one bringing forth Lycaon would have to drink it.”

“Are you saying he brewed the potion for Deucalion?” Allison asked, her voice shaking.

Lydia bit her lip as she nodded furiously.

“If Harris was working for Deucalion and he was giving the Polyjuice Potion to Blake then she was working for him too?” Stiles asked.

The three jumped as the door of the Room slammed open.

They looked at the doorway and saw Danny. It was the first time Stiles had seen Danny without any composure. He was sweating, panting, and his eyes were bloodshot red. “Where are the others?!” Danny shrieked. He dashed inside. He looked at Stiles. “Where are they?!”

“Who?”

“Who else?! _The werewolves!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Patronus credit to JellyColors for an African Grey Parrot. African Grey Parrots are loving, playful, have the intelligence level of up to a five-year old with the temperament of a two-year old, and bring joy and laughter into the lives of all who have the pleasure of knowing one. African Greys are known as the "Einstein's" of the parrot world because of their incredible talking ability. Also, I’ve already established Claudia is like Stiles so I wanted them to share the same patronus. Patronuses can change, so his will later change which will be his animagus that I will reveal much later in the story. 
> 
> Credit to Caliofrnia_ThereIsNoEndToLove for being such a wonderful person and helping me translate. Thanks so much!
> 
> Here are the following translations. I tried to make them so when you hover over them the language changes, but if that doesn’t work here they are. 
> 
> “It’s disgusting!”  
> “I can’t help it.”  
> “You’re an Argent. It’s in your blood.”  
> “Thank you.”  
> “I’m sorry.”  
> “I’m not going to tell it again, Allison.” 
> 
> And whoop sorry to leave it at that cliff hanger! Danny knows about werewolves? What?! Please tell me what you think everything from Allison to the Quidditch stuff to OWLS. I love everyone’s reviews they really make my day.


	39. The Imperius Curse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A most terrible event.

If there was one thing Danny prided himself on was that he was able to come to quick and correct conclusions. It came quite easily to him. All he had to do was sit and observe from a distance.

Although, he didn’t observe the same way Lydia and Stiles did. They were the type of people who dissected something from every angle, learned how it ticked, but they could never find out why it ticked without some extra effort or help. Danny, on the other hand could look at something, specifically people, and find out why they behaved a certain way.

He had developed this skill at a young age when he began to spend time with his grandmother who had the same gift. She said it came from their ancestors and it was the reason how they obtained their surname. Mahealani a name meaning Heavenly Moon, was said to have intrinsic power that caused them to have receptive natures of everything around them.

So in first year when they had their first flying lesson and Cora had knocked Jackson off his broom, (something his best friend deserved by the way) he began to observe Cora more carefully. And he discovered a lot. Cora was rarely in the company of others, not from a lack of social skills—although she did lack them—but rather she pushed others away. She would only be seen with her brother and the two made an interesting pair. Every month they would be broody and easily angered. Sometimes they looked drained, especially during the full moon. Now, Danny knew that some wizards felt affected by the moon. Some powerful wizards had their magic increase during full moons and then decrease for new moons. It worked vice versa as well. Danny would have attributed it to this, but occasionally, Cora would sniff the air or turn to a noise seconds before anyone else heard it.

There was only one other logical conclusion.

The Hales were werewolves.

It would make sense considering the Hale’s dark history.

He debated telling an adult much of his first year, but all Cora and Derek looked like were a pair of kicked dogs.

So he kept the information to himself and protected their identity.

And then fourth year happened.

The prankster duo, Stiles Stilinski and Scott McCall.

Danny, much like the rest of the Hogwart’s students, had the habit of ignoring the two jokesters to save his sanity. But he couldn’t ignore them for long when he saw Scott’s personality change in a matter of weeks. It was more than strange it was frightening.  No one else noticed and if they did, they brushed off their behavior as another elaborate prank. The only reason Danny couldn’t do that was because both Scott and Stiles genuinely seemed horrified.

It was not until Scott's brawl with Jackson, that Danny found the answer to Scott’s abnormal behavior. He watched Scott take Jackson’s beating and then watched him heal unnaturally from a bloody nose. Scott was a werewolf. The idea seemed preposterous until Cora stormed out of the club room to chase after the duo. Danny didn’t know how to react, but he did know that Lydia learned about Scott that day as well. He feigned he was still ignorant about the whole thing to her.

Scott for the most part didn’t pose a threat to other students. So like the Hales, he kept Scott on his radar but really didn’t pay attention to him.

But then the dynamic changed quickly in fifth year. More werewolves appeared, Erica Reyes, Isaac Lahey, Vernon Boyd, Ethan and Aiden. Danny became alarmed and wondered why so many were turning. His first thought was that Deucalion had infiltrated the school but when Lydia had her panic attack in the forest and Danny saw the clear division between Derek’s pack and the twins he knew that wasn’t the case. Derek and his pack were waging war on Deucalion, who the twins were working for. Danny wanted to go to the Headmaster but when he saw Derek’s pack coming and entering Deaton’s office as they pleased, he knew Deaton was in on it too.

Danny did not understand, but he trusted the Headmaster’s judgment.

His best friend not so much.

He tried to keep Jackson away from the werewolves as much as possible. It was difficult since Stilinski and his friends didn’t know how to fucking whisper. He knew Jackson would become obsessed, he was already starting to his fourth year. But then when Jackson pieced it all together on his own, his friend had wanted the bite. Danny didn’t understand his friend’s motivations, he just knew he had to stop it.

It was reckless. Jackson could die.

So he told Lydia.

He told her how he had known everything from the start and didn’t want Jackson involved in the mess Stiles’ friends were too deep into.

Thankfully, Lydia understood and went to go stop Jackson from getting the bite from Derek Hale.

That night Danny had spent it alone in the Slytherin common room waiting for his best friend to come back. He never did and Danny assumed the worst. It was the first time Danny cried. His heart nearly exploded when he saw Stiles entering the common room past five in the morning covered in bruises, dried blood, and dirty clothes. His mind went to the worst. He wanted to question Stiles, but Stiles didn’t even notice him as he blearily headed to their shared room and fell asleep.

Danny didn’t go to sleep until he had learned that both Jackson and Lydia were ok, that they were resting in the Hospital Wing.

He discovered that day his best friend was a werewolf and Lydia was a Banshee.

He wanted to scream and yell at his best friend for being so careless and putting Lydia at risk as well, but Danny didn’t want Jackson to know that he knew his secret. His best friend was getting into dangerous things that he knew would endanger Jackson more, so he kept quiet.

Sort of.

He took his frustration out on Lydia who merely listened and asked in a bored tone, “Are you done?” When Danny had stopped to breathe air and was red in the face.

Then the twins left. Danny thought he wouldn’t have a crush on Ethan anymore since he was a werewolf, but he was dead wrong. He foolishly hoped he could transfer Ethan to a safer side by dating him, but Danny wasn’t enough for Ethan to stay. Ethan left with his brother and Danny had never been more furious in his life.

His anger shifted to fright as the night of the ritual approached. He stole Jackson’s clothes and casted several spells to make the clothes repel all the dark curses Danny knew. It wasn’t much, but he hoped it helped.

When Jackson returned the next morning with only a few scars, Danny had never been more relieved.

And then the next semester came along with that strange message on the wall.

He didn’t think much on it. There wasn’t a lot to go on with such a crypt message. So he ignored it. He even ignored Matt’s strange behavior, until the aurors arrested him, Danny hadn’t actually been surprised. But then Matt returned to Hogwarts a week later, Danny had gotten information from Jackson that Matt had been under the influence of an Imperius Curse.

Then the twins left Hogwarts.

“So you’re really leaving?” Danny asked as they sat in their silent bubble in the Room of Requirement.

“Yeah. I thought, you know you would be proud.”

“Why would I?”

“Because I’m actually doing something good. Don’t think I didn’t notice you trying to rub off that Danny goodness on me all first semester.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Oh sometimes I wonder why I ever liked you.”

Ethan leaned into his personal space. “Because I have a dazzling personality.”

“I think it was the sense of danger that might have drawn me to you."

“What do you mean?”

“That you're a werewolf.”

Ethan was silent for a few seconds and then threw his head back with a giant laughter.

"You knew?"

"Of course I did."

"Danny, you are way too smart for your own good." Then Ethan laughed again. "Is that why we never got back together?"

"It had more to do with the fact I want to get through Hogwarts in one piece."

Ethan sent him a grin, "So does that mean that offer is open after you graduate?"

Danny scoffed but he leaned in toward Ethan and gave him a kiss. It was pretty chaste from everything they had done together, but Danny hoped the simplicity reflected his answer that maybe one day they could be together. He then stood up and dragged Ethan with him to the front of the Room.

He felt a little bit better after that encounter, but he wasn't sure what changed that Danny began to worry. He was the only one worrying. He felt something was wrong in Hogwarts and it had to do with the case. The pack, who he knew had been investigating the case, forgot all about it when they returned to school after the holidays. It was a mistake for them to forget. He looked around the castle diligently for information and then it came at him in the most unexpected place when Lydia was saying the name.

Julia Baccari.

He went to the library right after the exam to look for the name. When he found it in old archived newspapers, everything came crashing down on him like he couldn’t breathe. He sprinted to the Room of Requirement where he knew the pack liked to hang out. He flung open the door.

“Where are the others?!” He shrieked and dashed inside. He headed toward Stiles, knowing somehow this teen had become some pseudo-leader when Derek was away.

“Who?”

Danny wanted to rip his hair out. “Who else?! _The werewolves!_ ”

Allison and Stiles froze, Lydia merely rolled her head back.

“How do you?” Stiles began.

“That doesn’t matter right now.”  Danny cut him off. “Where are they?” He groaned. “I’m not going to tell anyone who they are! I’m worried about them, where are they?”

“The Forest.” Lydia spoke. “Why?”

“Why?” Danny spluttered. “Are you guys stupid. Julia Baccari!” No one moved. So Danny explained. “She was the brightest student at the Italian School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She excelled in Transfiguration so much that she had been able to posses an animagus at the age of fourteen. As soon as she graduated she went to get a job at AMULET in India. She excelled there for months but then was sacked when they found out she had met and decided to join a pack of werewolves led by Kali. Kali and Julia came to Europe to escape a group of Italian hunters, who knew Julia from a young age. The werewolf pack came to England but they were murdered, all except for Kali and Julia. Julia was never placed under trial because when the aurors got there Kali had attacked Julia, which most likely happened because Kali was trying to protect her from a life sentence in Azkaban for helping a werewolf. After Kali’s trial, Julia mysteriously disappeared.”

Allison looked at Danny strangely. “I still don’t get it…”

“Oh Merlin! Do I need to spell it out? Julia Bacarri is Jennifer Blake. It’s the same initials, both of them could turn into a dark brown fox.”

Stiles jumped up. “The fox we saw the night of the ritual, it was Blake. She was the emissary.” Danny watched as Stiles gears turned. “FUCK! The twins had mentioned two hooded figures who were working for Deucalion. It’s Blake. She is the emissary for Kali and I bet Harris was for Ennis. They were controlling Matt so they could bring hunters to Hogwarts. It’s their justice for what we did.”

Allison gasped. “They want to kill the pack.”

Danny wanted to shout that finally they got it, but he was distracted as he saw Lydia sitting motionless on the sofa and her eyes glazed with a storm.

“No.” Allison and Stiles said in tandem, with worry all around their face.

“What’s going on with her?” Danny pointed at Lydia.

“She’s—”

Lydia sucked in a large breath of air as her fingers dug into the couch cushion. “I felt someone die.”

Stiles ran to her and kneeled in front of her so they were eye level. “Where?!”

“I—I don’t know.”

Stiles arms grasped her shoulders. He wanted to shake her furiously. “What do you mean? You always know!”

Lydia’s arms came in front of her and she swatted Stiles’ as she stood. She paced in front of Stiles. Danny could see her eyes were watering. “I don’t have full control of my abilities, Stiles. I’m sorry. I can try to concentrate.”

Stiles clutched his head. “We don’t have the time.”

Allison stepped forward. “Lydia do you have general sense of where it might be?”

Lydia bit her bottom lip. “Forest.”

“Crap.” Stiles breathed out. Danny watched him as his breath came out and quick short pants. “We can't search the forest for them. We only have a few minutes warning with your visions.”

“What do we do?” Allison asked.

Stiles breathed deeply. “I can...shit!” Stiles foot met the coffee table. Danny jumped as it knocked over.

“Stiles!” Allison yelled. “We’ll think of something. We can—”

Stiles turned to all of them with crazed eyes. “No!” His eyes met Lydia’s. “I can hone the spirit.”

“What?” Danny questioned with disbelief. He gasped as he saw Stiles’ eyes smoke red. That was something he had never seen before, something he had never even considered. He always thought Stiles was human. What was he?

“I got it!” Stiles spoke. “Follow me.” He was already running out of the room. Everyone sprinted after him.

“We should tell someone.” Danny suggested.

“There’s no time,” Stiles shouted.

It was unnerving watching him with those eyes. Even Danny could sense the oppressing force of magic surrounding his Slytherin comrade.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Everything was deserted. As quietly and quickly as they could, they darted out of the castle and down the stone steps. The sky already blended with the dark forest. A first quarter moon smiled ominously above them, but it lighted their path in a muted blue hue. They tore across the vegetable gardens, the Whomping Willow, and teared toward the shelter of the forest.

Everyone was panting, but Stiles couldn’t stop. He felt his magic dragging him toward a heat deep inside the forest. He knew it was his pack. He prayed to an unknown figure that they would get there in time.

The pulling heat began to draw nearer and when Stiles jumped over a root, the four of them were thwarted.

Stiles’ face was the first to hit the barrier. He tumbled back on his ass.

“Wards,” Allison spoke, pressing them with all her strength. “Hunters cast them so no one can stop them from killing werewolves.”

“How do we break them?” Stiles shouted. He stood and began banging on the wards.

“I don’t know.” Allison stuttered.

“Move!” Danny shoved Stiles.

Stiles watched Danny twirl his wand over the invisible barrier. He remembered Danny could break through any single curse and ward. He waved his wand and then cast several spells that Stiles had never even heard of but soon a giant hole appeared. Danny pushed all of them inside. Everyone tripped over each other and fell against the damp dirt ground. Stiles head snapped to closing crackling barrier.

He gathered his breath and continued sprinting again.

In less than a minute, the four crouched behind a large hill covered in dense trees.

Stiles felt his throat close up.

The pack had their arms and legs bound to a wooden post. Under the black dirty bags over their faces, the werewolves growled. They fought against their bonds, but the chains dug into their red swollen wrist and ankles. Steam hovered over their wounds. Wolfsbane.

"Stiles," Allison whispered in his ear. Stiles watched Derek carefully as he began to thrash harder at his name. He could probably smell him too. "It's the Fuoco family."

Stiles had to dig his nails in his thighs to look away from the pack. Stiles didn't recognize the family, but he did see in fact six hunters.

All of them were of various ages, but they were all distinctly men. Blake was beside them. Stiles wanted to curse as he saw her twirl around in expensive robes. She was treating this like a show. However, Stiles nearly froze as he saw Matt Dahler amongst them. His glazed eyes and passive demeanor alerted them that Matt was once again under the Imperius curse.

Merlin!

Stiles wanted to jump forward recklessly, but Lydia was digging her nails into his forearm, keeping him steady.

“We can’t just go in, we need a plan.” Lydia stated firmly.

“Our pack is about to be murdered.” He glanced quickly at the pack. His eyes fell to Derek.

"I know." She glanced quickly at Jackson and then back to Stiles. "Derek has the best hearing, right?" Stiles nodded. "Good. Derek, if you can hear us, stop moving." All four of them snapped their heads in Derek's direction. He stopped thrashing immediately. Lydia smiled, "Great! Derek keep moving so you don't draw attention. We need you to growl, talk to them, stall or something while we think of a plan."

The pack flinched as the intensity of Derek's roar. The shock waves were surprising and the residual sound was felt, rather than heard. Stiles watched a stray pebble skip across the ground and crash against a tree root. It was unmistakably an Alpha's roar.

“Quiet!” Blake shouted. She pulled out her wand. She fired a non-verbal spell, but whatever it was, it caused Derek to shout and struggle against his binds. Stiles got ready to jump into the mess, but he felt Danny place his broad palm over his mouth and an arm snake around his waist, pulling him down.

When the spell ended, Derk sagged against the chains. “What do you want?!” Came Derek’s voice, muffled from the bag.

“Are the chains and bags not answer enough?” Blake scoffed. “We’re here to kill you.”

“I meant why.”

“I don’t have to answer myself to a disgusting vile dark creature like you.” She twirled to the hunters. “Thank you so much for bestowing me with your grateful generosity on joining me on this beautiful eve of killing a werewolf pack.”

“All in the name of protecting the wizard youth, _Signorina_ ,” The leader of the hunters spoke in a heavy Italian voice. The leader was in his late sixties. He already had a full head of gray hair and a receding hairline, but his posture and sharp angular face alluded to the fact the man had been attractive once his prime.

“Of course, Enzo.” Blake smiled. “Protecting the wizard youth, yes that’s what I want.”

“What are you talking about?” Cora screeched.

“They think we killed the students.” Boyd answered in monotone.

“Right,” Blake laughed. “Because you did.”

“She’s lying!” Derek screamed. “If you could hear her heartbeat—”

“Oh!” The leader, Enzo shouted. “Heartbeat? You stupid vermin always think you can trust a heartbeat. I’m a twenty-one year old witch, standing in the woods naked. Did you hear a lie there? No. Because humans have control over basic functions not like you filthy creatures.” He turned to Blake. “Which would you like to kill first? The Alpha? Or the weakest link?”

Blake smiled. “Hmm...I’m not sure. What do you normally do?” Stiles noted that she said that last line with bitterness.

“Well as most hunters we like to offer them a little compassion, and ask them who they would like to see kept alive.”

Stiles shivered as Blake’s eyes turned murderous as she most likely remembered that these same people had done the same to her packi. “Yes. Of course. May I?”

The leader motioned for her to step forward.

Blake smiled and roamed around each werewolf. “Hmm...let’s ask Scott. You were my least annoying student. Listened well and never questioned my authority.” She stepped behind him and removed the bag over his head with force.

“Stop! Professor.” Scott cried. “Why are you doing this?”

Of course, the others didn’t know her true motive yet. He turned to Lydia and began to throw out random ideas that could help.

Blake ignored his question. “Alright Scott. Out of your little pack, I’m asking, who would you like to save? Whoever you pick, we will spare them. Not harm a single little fang. I give you my word.”

“No. I’m not choosing.”

“Would you like to see everyone die then?”

“No.” Scott panicked and voice quickening.

“Then?”

_“I’m not choosing!”_

Blake’s eyes narrowed. “Fine.” She flicked her robes dramatically. “You die first then. Enzo, your men can kill this one! Make it hurt.”  

No one was quick enough to stop Allison jumping into the fray. _“Stop!”_ She shouted. The others remained hidden in the shadows. Each of them were clutching their wands, ready with a spell in case anything went wrong.

“Allison!” Scott shrieked.

All the hunters, Blake, and Matt pointed their wands at her.

“Wait!” Scott yelled. “Allison. I choose Allison. Don’t hurt her!”

“Very well then.” Blake smiled. “Boys, don’t hurt the Argent.”

“Argent!” One of of the hunters cried. He was tall and had a long gangly face. He had the shadow of a beard, although uneven, it made him look menacing.  “You’re an Argent? Of course, I heard about you. Allison Argent, you and your father are the black sheep of the family.”

Allison wand hand trembled, Stiles didn’t understand why she wasn’t moving, or speaking.  

“Santino, look at her!” The tall hunter laughed. “She looks exactly like Catarina Argent! Now that one, she was feisty. A natural hunter.”

“Matteo, _chiudi la bocca!_ ” Santino barked. He was the biggest of the six. He was all sinewy muscle with a heavy beard and long locks that fell to his shoulders.

Stiles turned to Lydia finally getting an idea. “Lydia, what happens when you cast a _lumos_ and a _nox_ at the same time?”

Stiles glanced over as Matteo continued to speak with Allison.

“It’s like turning a light on and off really fast. The intensity of it would make it hard to see.” She answered.

“What if we cast protective spells on our eyes?”

“I don’t know any like that.”

“I do,” Danny interrupted. “It takes a few minutes, Allison is going to have to keep stalling.”

“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.” Lydia said.

“Allison? May I call you Allison?” Matteo questioned the silent Gryffindor. He approached her and circled her like a vulture.” Now someone has to explain to me how the greatest hunter family turns its back on it’s duty to the wizarding world. Because I just don’t get it.”

“Matteo, _chiudi la bocca!_ ” Santino yelled again. “The question is what is she doing here? And how did she find us and break the wards?”

“She’s here to save them, you stupid lot,” Enzo said. “Is that how far you’ve fallen?” He stomped toward her until they were a foot apart. He looked down at her like a child. “Saving these things, I don’t understand.” He grinned and pulled out his wand, pressing it against the bottom of her throat. “And you’re part of their pack too, aren’t you?”

“NOW!” Stiles shouted.

The forest around them flickered like strobe lights, making it difficult to see anything. The hunters panicked and cried several words in Italian.

It was then the three went into the madness.

Allison jumped out of whatever trance she was in and went into the fight. The lights were providing coverage for the teens, but just barely. Stiles forgot that hunters were the most deadly duelists in the world. Several illegal curses were shot at them.

Stiles jumped over a large boulder to get to the pack. He cast a spell to release the binds, but his spell rebounded. He groaned and instead ran toward them to release them manually.

 _“Ciao bambino,”_ A hunter appeared in front of Stiles. He looked the most deranged out of the band of hunters. His face was cut up in so many scars that it distracted from his shocking unnatural blonde hair.

Stiles didn’t have time for this. _“Expelliarmus!”_

The man blocked the spell.

Terror tore at Stiles’ heart. He had to get to the others and he had to defeat these men. Stiles leapt over a branch and disappeared into the dense trees as the crazy man fired a spell. Stiles looked around the surroundings, trying to find something to be of use.

He glanced briefly at the others.

Allison was taking the brute of the fight. She fought against the leader, Matteo, and Santino in an endless fight. She sidestepped all their curses and fired several of them that had the men gasping in pain.

Lydia was fighting with a tall Black hunter as she avoided Blake’s curses. Danny was fighting against a hunter and Matt as well.

“Diego!” Enzo cried to the crazy scared hunter. “Cast the flames now!”

No.

Stiles leapt forward and plunged after this Diego. _“Petrificus Totalus!”_ Diego collapsed against the floor, and Stiles nearly avoided a jet of green light. He ducked and ran head first into another hunter while screaming. Both of them tumbled to the ground. Danny helped pick Stiles up and together the two were dueling against Matt and another hunter who had dirty blonde hair.

 _“Crucio—Crucio!”_ The blond hunter shouted. Danny and Stiles were barely able to avoid the curses. They fired hex after hex and protected each other when they were barely recovering from the last spell thrown.

 _“Enough of this!”_  

Stiles head snapped to Blake who was standing by the werewolves. Without any hesitation, she lit the flames. Stiles cried out and tried to get to them, but the blonde hunter wasn’t letting Danny and Stiles out of his sight.

Stiles then shielded his eyes as the strobe lights got brighter and stronger. He searched the forest desperately for the cause. He saw Lydia. She waved her wand above her head and muttered spells to make the light brighter.

It worked so well, that even through the protective spells Danny had cast, they couldn’t see. Lydia took advantage of it though and knocked a hunter down. He tried to get up but Lydia smashed her foot against his skull. He fell unconscious. She dodged spells and rushed to help her best friend.

Blake transfigured the floating ball of light to disperse in a boom that shook the forest. She charged at Danny and Stiles.

 

“What’s the matter Argent?” Matteo taunted Allison. He stood above her, holding his wand above her throat. “Did papa not teach you how to fight?”

Lydia fired a spell. Matteo flew across the forest. “Don’t touch her!” Lydia seethed. She heard Jackson’s cry and tried to push it out of her mind to work through one problem at a time. If she defeated the hunters quickly, she could get to Jackson. She whispered under her breath, “Just a little more Jackson. Hold on a little longer.” She wasn’t sure he heard her. His scream was penetrating her bones. Her momentary distraction caused her to nearly get hit with a spell to her face. She dodged.

Allison slid gracefully behind a tree to avoid a spell. She pointed her wand at Lydia and Lydia felt herself get tugged in the direction of the tree. It was meant to be a second breather, but Santino, Enzo, and Matteo cast a _bombarda_ at the tree. The tree exploded and the the two were almost caught in the fray if were not for Danny and Stiles, turning away from their own fights, to push them away with another spell they would have been hit. 

They landed behind the three hunters.

Matteo seemed ready for them. _“Expelliarmus!”_ He cried.

Allison’s wand flew several feet away.

Matteo grinned like he had won the fight.

Lydia rolled her eyes. _“Glacius!_ ” She cast. Ice engulfed his head. Allison stepped forward and did a roundhouse kick to his face. Matteo crashed against a tree and fell unconscious. Allison picked up his wand. Lydia could tell the wand wanted to reject Allison, as she struggled to throw spells. Enzo knocked her down. Lydia stepped in front of her.

Allison couldn’t fight without her wand. She thought of summoning Allison’s wand, but then thought of a better idea. _“Accio Allison’s bow and arrow!”_ She hoped it wasn’t stored anywhere too far away.

Lydia cast a shield as a spell came her. It was two against two. It felt like minutes had passed, but luckily they heard the familiar whoosh. Allison jumped over a hill and grasped her bow. She grinned and Lydia smiled through her heavy breathing.

 

Blake came at Danny and Stiles, sending curses flying in all directions, so that they ricocheted off the trees around them, cracking them into splinters, shattering branches.

Stiles ducked and sprinted forward, narrowly avoiding a blast that erupted over his head, showering them all in bits of wood and dirt. He needed to get to the others. The fire had encased Cora, Boyd, and Jackson first. It was up to their upper chest. The three released a shrill cry that nearly bursted Stiles’ eardrums.

“Stiles!” He heard Derek shout. His head snapped to him. In all Derek’s thrashing, he had knocked off the bag.

Stiles didn’t have time to answer. He avoided the blonde hunter and then Matt. Danny shouted when he saw Jackson covered in flames. Danny’s eyes grew dark. He cast a spell, obviously dark in nature as it had the hunter dropping to the ground. He wheeled around, staggered, and gasped when Danny kicked him in the gut.

Stiles looked away. Lydia and Allison had knocked out two of the hunters and were now fighting with the leader, who was putting up a strong fight.

Stiles turned back to his own, heading straight to stop the flames.

_“Aguamen—”_

_“Expelliarmus!”_

Stiles avoided Blake’s spell by dropping to the ground. He scrambled up from the floor and began to sprint toward her.

 _“Impedimenta!”_ Stiles cried. The spell hit her square in the chest, knocking her back against the trees. She appeared unconscious.

Stiles began again to head to his friends. When he heard, _“Avada Kedavra!”_

“Stiles, look out!” Allison shouted, crashing both of them to the floor.

He froze as he heard a thump. Stiles head turned shakily to Matt’s lifeless body beside him. The poor boy had been caught in the crossfire. He vaguely heard Danny and Lydia knocking out the leader of the hunters.

Stiles’ arms shook as he pushed himself up.

 _“Aguamenti!”_ Danny and Lydia cried before the flames could do more harm.

Stiles gasped turning back to the others. He helped them get the others lose. As soon as the chains fell away from Derek, Derek went into his werewolf form and began to sprint. Stiles quickly noticed that Blake had morphed into a fox and was making a run for it. Derek, Erica, and Isaac who hadn’t been touched by the fire yet, chased after her.

Stiles was rooted to the ground as he saw Jackson, Boyd, and Cora convulsing on the ground from the burns.

Both Lydia and Danny went to Jackson.

Scott and Allison hovered over Cora. Scott had been unharmed by the fire as well.

Stiles went to Boyd, his hand hovering a bad burn mark on his leg. His hand touched his bloody leg.

“She didn’t apparate.” Boyd panted.

“What?” Stiles asked.

“We are outside the wards.”

“Stiles!” Lydia cried in worry.

His head snapped toward her. “We messed up.” She cried, cradling Jackson. Danny was beside her casting useless healing spells on Jackson. “The location it’s where we thought the Lycaon ritual was going to occur. All the mountain ash rings we set are here.”

Stiles glanced in the direction of where the others had run off to. “It’s a trap.” Stiles stood. He felt fire collect in his veins and he dashed forward, running faster than he ever thought was humanly possible. He distinctly heard Danny following after him, but he left him far behind on how fast he ran.

Scott meanwhile was torn in which way to go, but he chased after his friends, when Allison shouted at him to leave.

When Stiles got there, it was too late. All the mountain ash rings they had set during the night of the ritual had captured Derek, Erica, and Isaac. They were banging on their barriers as Blake cast incendio on all of them.

Their screams filled Stiles with dread and hatred. He sprinted forward, but Blake saw him coming.

“Oh the child thinks he can play with grown-ups!” Blake shrieked. _“Crucio!”_

He thought the spell was aiming at him, but then he saw Danny appearing to his right and then falling to the ground in a writhing mess of limbs. In his distraction, she cast the same spell at Stiles.

Stiles fell to the ground. He heard Derek scream his name. When Scott arrived, the spell had fallen and soon Scott was unknowingly trapped in a mountain ash ring himself.

“No…” Stiles tried to scream, but his voice felt too hoarse. He tried to stand, but everything in his body was screaming in pain. Blake stepped toward him. She cast a spell and Stiles’ feet were floating a few inches above the ground.

“You think that’s pain!” Blake shouted in hysterics. “You don’t know pain, Stiles! You don’t know pain until your pack dies!”

She waved her wand in the direction of the pack. The flames flickered out immediately. The three werewolves collapsed on the ground, breathing heavily.

“But oh, oh Merlin.” Blake cried. She approached Stiles, and Stiles couldn’t have moved if he tried. She took his face in her hands. “Of course. I’m so stupid. You’re the Moonwalker. I should have controlled you from the start. Save everyone this nonsense. As such.” She stepped back. _“Imperio!”_

Stiles felt everything in him snuff out.

 

Derek crawled to edge of the barrier, still trying to break it. “Stiles!” He shouted when the unforgivable was shot in Stiles’ direction.

“Are you listening Stiles?” Blake asked. “Good. I want you to use your Moonwalker magic and kill the Alpha.”

Stiles took his first step forward.

Derek felt his skin go pale as Stiles made his way toward him. Stiles eyes were smoking bright red. Derek flinched as Stiles used his hand to part the mountain ash line. Stiles came forward.

“Stiles! No.” Derek tried to keep his voice level. “You have to fight it!”

But it wasn’t Stiles anymore.

Stiles hand lifted, Derek swore he saw the small flicker of a flame ghosting over his fingertips before he clenched his fist. Derek would have dodged if he had strength in his legs to move. As such, Stiles’ fist came down Derek’s jaw hard.

Derek couldn’t even gasp. The pressure of his jaw collapsing was too much to handle.

Stiles rose his fist again. “Stiles.”

Once more.

He tuned out the pack shouting Stiles’ name. “Stiles.” Derek hated how his voice croaked.

The fist came again. Derek saw splotches of black. He sucked in a huge breath through his nose, but his eyes teared at the burn in his nostrils. He realized Stiles had broken his nose. “Stiles,” Derek muttered. He looked up at Stiles. His face was vacant, but Derek could see Stiles hand, shaking. Stiles was trying.

So Derek did too. “STILES! You have to fight it!”

Stiles lifted his hand again. He hesitated for a full three seconds, but then another blow came at his face.

Derek coughed out blood. His vision turned blurry. He could hear his pack shouting at Stiles, but none of them had their wands on them. The hunters had taken hold of them.

Derek was sprawled on the ground and the only thing keeping his remotely up was Stiles clenched fist at his shirt collar. Derek shut his eyes and left himself vulnerable for the pain and accepted he could not do anything. He bared his neck.

And then Derek felt it.

He felt his skin rippling, his hands taking different shape and the world around him transforming. His line of vision fell closer to the ground and soon Derek was becoming increasingly aware of his form.

He heard Stiles suck in a breath above him.

 

Stiles felt the spell breaking like a bucket of cold water. His eyes focused on the completely black wolf in front of him. “Derek.” Stiles whimpered.

He wanted to fall to his knees and take hold of Derek to make sure he was ok, but then another surge of heat took over his body. He turned around, setting his focus on Blake. She had the decency to take a step back in fear.

He lifted his wand at her. She deflected it, which was fine, because Stiles didn’t need his wand. Without even raising his hands the mountain ash encasing his friends fell apart. The mountain ash rose and rose behind him.

“Mountain ash doesn’t work on human Stiles.” Blake laughed.

Stiles’ eyes narrowed. His hands shot straight in front of him. The mountain ash flowed like an angry river. He didn’t think. He didn’t care. The mountain ash encircled her throat. Her mouth opened with a gasp and then Stiles was pushing the mountain ash down her esophagus. Blake gagged, falling to the ground. Stiles continued choking the woman.. He felt more than saw Derek rushing at him. But no, Stiles didn’t want to be interrupted. He rose his hand and flung a barrier of mountain ash at Derek. Derek let out a canine whimper as he was flung several feet away.

Stiles was ready to kill Blake, but he paused when he saw the laughter in her eyes. Stiles grunted in frustration, letting the mountain ash fall. She gasped for air and with crazed eyes looked to Stiles. “You are so foolish, if you couldn’t even see the enemy right in front of you how do you expect to see the true enemy beyond, oh they will destroy you and you won’t even see it coming. They will destroy you and they have been fooling you all!”

His hesitation was enough for Blake to grab her wand and send him flying into the air. He collided against a tree and before he could do anything, Blake was apparating away.

Stiles took a sharp breath of air as he was snapped out of it. He couldn’t breathe. What? What was happening to him?

He felt Derek crawling to him in wolf form.

“Derek!” Stiles cried, running to him. He fell in front of him and threw himself at him. His hands wrapped around the wolf’s neck and Stiles’ hands dug into the creature’s mane. He began to cry and sob as heat engulfed his body. It hurt. Everything hurt.

He heard several cracks behind him and he could somewhat hear Scott telling a few people where there were injured people.

Stiles jumped when he saw his father kneeling beside him.

“Stiles. Stiles? You need to let the wolf go.”

“I almost killed him dad! I almost killed someone!”

“Stiles. Let the wolf go back into the forest.”

Stiles felt arms wrap around his waist. He was too out of it to notice that Derek was naked. Instead, he leaned against his human chest, still shaking in pain.  

“Stiles.” John gasped when he saw Derek’s and Stiles’ red eyes. John grabbed at Stiles, pulling him away from Derek. Stiles collapsed against his father and began to shriek loudly. Everything hurt. He was bleeding. He was sure his hand was broken. He was burning. Oh no, his dad saw Derek. He couldn’t have him hating his friends. Burning. He couldn’t have his dad worrying. Burning. This was like his mother all over again. Burning. Burning.

“You need to get him to St. Mungos now!” Derek ordered his father.

John wasn’t reacting quickly. He was too busy realizing what Derek was in front of him. Stiles knew his father was coming to wrong conclusions and he wanted to to tell him that no Derek is good. Burning. Derek is nice. But all that came out of his mouth was a deranged, hoarse cry, “Dad! It burns! Everything burns! Make it stop! Please make it stop! Make it stop!” Tears were falling from his red eyes.

He heard the sharp intake of his father’s breath as he was most likely brought back to a sick Claudia pleading the exact same words to him.

He wanted to take the words back but then everything was swaying, and shifting, and flipping, and then black.

Nice welcome, cold black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don’t hurt me!!
> 
> Well this is the last chapter I will post until mid June. Finals are nearing, I have a ton of essays, I’m sobbing in a corner from stress. Wrote this all today to alleviate the stress (caused more) and hoped it lives to you all you angsty crazed people’s expectations. 
> 
> Tell me what you think? Danny? The fight scenes? The poor pack? Matt? Derek? Papa Stilinski?
> 
> Everything is always appreciated! Sorry for not replying to everyone who reviewed last chapter, I read all of them and they made me super happy and giddy and were that little ball of sunshine that I am in desperate need of.


	40. Scorching Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Blake's attack leaves the entire pack damaged.

Stiles concentrated on counting the ceiling tiles while his body felt tight and tender. He had been in and out of consciousness for about an hour and now, he was trying to use all his mental capacity to count to wake up the rest of his body. It took five minutes to move his toes, another five for his fingers, and twenty for his head to move and discern that he was in St. Mungos.

The unknowing weight on his chest lifted, nearly choking Stiles with the inhale of breath. He shot up, looking around the room. He saw at his right an uncomfortable old wooden chair and a nightstand. Rings of coffee stains and half empty vials of Pick-Me-Up Potion covered the nightstand. To his left was a door.

Stiles kicked at the sheets and placed his right foot on the cold ground. The chill ran from his heel straight to his spine. It felt amazing against his heated skin.

He tested his weight first on the bed, getting used to the sensation of standing upright. When his violent leg shaking turned into a minute tremble, he pushed off the bed and began walking. He only had one thought in mind.

Pack.

Where were they?

Where was Derek?

He wished he could have woken up without a clue on what had occurred, but everything was so vivid. Especially the feel of his hand breaking with the blow to Derek’s jaw. The mountain ash flowing around him choking Blake. He couldn’t believe he had lost control of his powers.

He turned a corner of a hallway using the walls to keep his body from collapsing. He reached within his mind and felt a werewolf nearing. Heat flared in his body again but he ignored it as he saw Derek.

Derek wore the standard patient robes. He could see his bare feet and legs covered in burning black welts. His arms were covered in them too. He ran faster and Derek tried as well but he was more injured than Stiles was.

Stiles cried.

He pushed Derek on the wall to the steady him. Both were left gasping as they caught their breath. “Derek.” Stiles sobbed.

His hands were shaking fiercely as he tried to reach for Derek’s face.

Derek shushed him and reached a tentative hand on Stiles’ face instead. Stiles felt the rough, burnt flesh against his cheek.

“I’m so sorry Derek.”

He knew apologies were never enough, they never changed anything.

“Shh..it’s ok..it’s all ok...’

But forgiveness did.

“I feel like I lost you.” Stiles muttered, resting his forehead against Derek’s.

Both were taken back to only a few months ago when Stiles had nearly died from Kali’s claws. “Not for a second.” Derek replied.

Stiles gaped. He gulped down the bulge in his throat and kissed Derek. This was nothing like all the other kisses. This was consuming. Stiles held Derek up as best he could. As ten minutes passed by, with the two of them wrapped up in each other, Stiles did not miss the irony. Countless patients, Healers, Medi Wizards, and visitors were passing by them, but they weren’t interrupted once, compared to the other times when they thought they had been alone in the castle.

After a while, when the two could no longer breathe, and Stiles could no longer hold Derek up, the two slid to the ground. Derek’s back was pressed against the wall and Stiles was tucked into him, breathing into his shoulder, just needing to know that he was there.

They stayed like that for the better part of half and hour. Stiles was ready to fall asleep, but then he heard a loud voice.

_“Melissa, I found them!”_

Laura?

Stiles cracked open an eye and he saw Derek’s older sister marching to them. Melissa was right behind her.

“What were you thinking?” Melissa chided. “You are both still injured.”

Laura pulled Stiles to his feet. Out of nowhere, Melissa summoned a wheelchair. Stiles was much too weak to fight back. “Derek.” He croaked.

Laura lifted her brother, placing his arm around her shoulder. “He’s fine, just needs rest. Just like you. I’ll take him back to the ward.”

“Thank you Laura.” Melissa said.

“Where is everyone?” Stiles asked, once Melissa wheeled him away.

“Safe, they are being treated here.”

“But people can’t find out about them.”

“Healers have a confidentiality agreement. And we have them in a separate ward on another floor.”

“Why aren’t I with them?”

“Because you are in the Spell-injuries Ward. You got hit with a really bad Crucio spell. When they brought you in I was worried we would have to place you in the closed ward, but you woke up fine immediately when they brought you in. Your friend Danny is here too. He’s about to be discharged.”

“Why so soon?”

She turned a corner and Stiles could already see the door he had knocked open. “The spell didn’t hit him so hard as it hit you.” She wheeled him to the room.

_“Stiles!”_

Stiles was enveloped in a hug.

“See what happens when you make me go stretch my legs.” His father told Melissa.

“He didn’t get far.” Melissa tried to joke.

“Dad.” Stiles felt his lungs collapsing.

“Stiles.” His father cupped the back of his head and pressed his lips to his temple.

“I’m sorry.” Stiles wanted to cry again.

“Stiles, you’re injured, why are you apologizing?" His father pulled back and cupped his cheeks.

Stiles looked everywhere but at his father. “Because I’ve been doing all this behind your back.” His voice cracked.

“Stiles, I don’t care about that right now.” His father hugged him again. “How is he doing, Melissa?”

Melissa approached to separate them. She helped Stiles back on the bed. “He’s healing. Luckily there doesn’t seem to be any permanent damage.”

“What about the others?” Stiles interjected, holding desperately onto Melissa’s sleeve. “How are they?”

“Fine.” She muttered.

“Fine isn’t a comforting word.”

“Better than nothing…” She shoved a vial under his nose, “Now take this.”

“What is it?”

“It will help you heal. C’mon drink up, I’m supposed to return to my ward.”

Stiles drank the potion and immediately his head hit the bed.

|~~***~~|

Melissa smoothed down the worried crease between Stiles’ brows. She checked his vitals and when everything thankfully was heading well, she looked up at John.

“How is he really?” John asked.

“He’s healing.”

“No. That’s not it. I meant.” He took a long deep breath and ran a hand over his face. “Melissa please. If there is anything you or the other healers found strange I need to know.”

Melissa bit her bottom lip as she tapped her quill against her clipboard. “Let’s go speak in my office.”

The two headed to Melissa’s designated Creatures Induced Injuries Ward. Melissa looked around and saw a blonde woman. “Gallagher, I’m taking my break now; cover for me please.”

The woman nodded.

Melissa unlocked her door and both stepped inside.

She went around her desk and pulled out several papers. “When you brought him in he was running an extremely high fever and his magical signature was off the charts. Our spells couldn’t even read them, that’s how strong they were. That type of release _should_ have killed him. Look.” She stuffed papers in front of him. “This is a chart tracing his magical signature right when you brought him to right now. They were dangerously high when you brought him but once we started treating Stiles for the cruciatus spell and gave him a strong Calming Draught, his magical signature fell drastically. It was probably that high in the first place because his body went into shock. It’s not that uncommon for a signature to rise during those circumstances”

John sighed and glared at her. “Why is there a hidden _but_ in there?”

“Like I said our spells couldn’t read him. But he’s fine now, he’s healing quickly.”

“Are you sure?”

Melissa put the chart on her desk and placed her hands on her hips. “Why are you asking John?”

“Claudia, she uh,” John rubbed the back of his neck, “She told me that too. She said her skin was burning. Stiles said the exact same thing as her. I was worried he had gotten her sickness.”

“What did she have?”

“The healers didn’t know. They just knew her magic ate her until she died.”

Melissa held in her choked gasp. She was too worried and much too busy to begin crying herself. She stood straight and looked John in the eye. “I can assure you, Stiles is fine. Look, his vitals are stabilizing. He’s not ill or anything.”

“Why were his eyes red then?”

“Excuse me.”

“When I saw my son, his eyes were smoking red.”

“Ah, that would be due to his magic.”

“What?”

Melissa shook her head. “I’m sorry John, but Stiles is old enough to tell you what’s going on.”

John sagged and looked around the room. It settled on a moving portrait of her and Scott. “I’m afraid he won’t.

Melissa tried to lighten the mood. “I think he knows he can’t talk his way out of this one when you saw him surrounded by werewolves that were on fire.”

John turned to look back at her. His eyes narrowed, but he wasn’t angry. “You knew didn’t you?”

“Yes.” There was no point in lying.

“How long?”

“Do you remember when Lydia Martin had been bitten? Around that time. Scott asked me to keep it a secret.” John froze and then a minute tremble started in his shoulders. “John?”

“Werewolves.” John cried. “Werewolves, Melissa.”

She bit her lip, “I know.” It was the only consolation she could offer.

“Merlin!” John seethed. “I wish I could blame this all on them.”

“Oh c’mon John, as soon as you arrived and saw all of Stiles’ friends injured, you knew it wasn’t their fault.”

“But they got him involved!”

“To my knowledge, it was Stiles. Derek, he’s the Alpha by the way in case you were wondering, didn’t want Stiles to get involved with them. But we all know how persistent Stiles can be. Derek, I’ve only met a handful of times, but he’s a good kid. He tries to keep my son and the pack safe.”

“You call that safe? All those children nearly died.”

“But they didn’t.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Stiles didn’t.”

John took a deep breath. “I don’t want Stiles seeing them. I’ll transfer him to a different school if I have to.”

Melissa’s eyes narrowed as she took a step back. “That’s not going to happen.”

“Why?”

“Because my son is a werewolf and you are not going to separate those two. They are family to each other; I won’t allow it.” She blew on her lips, “Although some time apart might do them some good,” She said to the side.

“Then what do I do?” John pleaded.

“All you can do is trust them.”

|~~***~~|

The second time Stiles awoke, all the memories dripped like a broken faucet into his mind instead of the giant tidal wave from before. His mind replayed Matt’s death over and over again. He wasn’t sure Matt had even been lucid to realize that he had been killed. He kind of hoped he wasn't. The poor guy had been through so much already. And then his mind replayed almost killing Derek and Blake in gritty detail. And then lastly, his father looking at him with what Stiles was sure was revulsion.

Stiles bit his lip to stop the tears. His chin trembled.

“Stiles?”

Stiles turned to the door and saw Melissa. “Yeah?” He swallowed down his feelings.

“Are you feeling better?”

“That depends on what you mean by better. Better is an awfully vague term.”

She chuckled. “If you are starting to sass, I’ll take that as a good sign. I’ve come to take you to the others.”

Stiles shot up. “Can I?”

“Yeah.” She pulled out a wheelchair.

Stiles still felt shaky but he felt a lot better than before.

“Where’s my dad?” He asked when he was in the seat. She maneuvered his uncooperating legs before she began to wheel him out.

“He had to leave to file reports on what happened.”

“Crap.”

“You don’t need to worry... much.”

“Thanks, that’s comforting, Melissa.”

She flicked the side of his head to not sass her. He batted her hands away and waited patiently as she used the lift to guide them to the correct floor. Finally, she pushed open the doors and wheeled him inside. Stiles felt another rush of heat invade his skin. It began at his chest and sparked down his arms and up his face. Merlin, it was almost unbearable. He shut his eyes and clutched the armrest of the wheelchair. He took a deep breath, trying to go through whatever episode he was having.

“Stiles?” Melissa questioned softly.

Stiles eyes opened wide.

The ward was large but rather dingy as the only window was narrow and set high in the wall facing the door. Most of the light came from shining crystal bubbles clustered in the middle of the ceiling. The walls were of panelled oak and there was a portrait of a witch on the wall whose face resembled a pug.

There were eight beds and six of the beds were occupied by the six patients. Derek was at the furthest wall by the window and in his aisle were Cora and Isaac, opposite of them were Erica, Boyd, and Jackson.

The solitary ray of sunlight fell onto their beds. Stiles heart twisted in his ribcage, distracting from the heat. All six of the patients were propped up on a few pillows as they lay fast asleep. A clear bubble was across their nose down to their necks, helping them breathe from the smoke they had inhaled in their lungs. Once in a while, the clear bubble would turn black and then the black smoke was expelled from the bubble with a pop.

As Melissa pushed the wheelchair further in, Stiles took in the state of his pack’s injuries. Cora, Boyd, and Jackson had been hit the worse. He recalled that they had been burnt on the post so their entire legs, torso, and arms were covered in bandages. Erica and Isaac had been exposed to the fire briefly so they only had bandages across their legs. Derek was in the same situation but Stiles barely noticed as he took in the large burn marks across his face. Stiles hands trembled in his lap, knowing he had done that with his Moonwalker magic.

Scott had been the only werewolf untouched by the fire. He sat in an uncomfortable wooden chair between Cora’s and Isaac’s bed. Stiles looked at the others, Lydia and Danny were covered in a few bandages mostly on their hands and face as they sat between Jackson’s and Boyd’s bed. Allison was on Boyd’s right, sitting next to Erica as well.

Laura Hale was in between her siblings reading the Daily Prophet.

“Stiles!” Allison and Scott rushed to him first.

Scott enveloped him in a large hug, awkwardly as Stiles was still in the chair. Allison was next, he noticed the large cut across her cheek, a dark curse had probably nicked her.

“Are they all ok?” Stiles inquired.

“They will be when Deaton and Morrell get here.” Melissa said. “Shouldn’t be long. They were going to bring potions so they can aid the healing process.” She walked over to Jackson and gave a kind smile to Lydia and Danny.

Stiles wheeled the chair toward Derek’s bed.

He sat by him.

He gave Laura a weak smile.

He checked at Derek’s respiration, touched his bandaged wrist to feel his pulse. He knew there was nothing he could do. Werewolves healed at the normal rate humans did when touched by fire. But even knowing this information, he felt frustratingly powerless. He stayed there for a few minutes, watching Melissa move from bed to bed. He leaned back as Melissa checked on the titres on the hovering potion bags by each bed. The delivery system worked similar to a muggle IV drip, only maddeningly complex to calibrate and maintain.

Stiles watched the clear bag drip slowly. It hurt him to know there weren’t potions to dull pain nor heal them, potions didn’t work on werewolves, instead it was just administering fluids that the werewolves had lost.

Melissa did something strange with her wand that when she moved away, Derek’s scrunched face calmed.

Stiles smiled as Melissa went over to Cora’s bed. Stiles leaned over the bed and carefully stroked Derek’s face.

“Just hold on Derek,” he said softly. He wasn’t sure if Derek could hear him, he remembered asking Melissa a few summers ago if unconscious patients could hear voices, she said she wasn’t sure, but she liked to talk to them anyway just in case. “You don’t have to worry much, the entire pack is here.”

“Nice bedside manner,” Laura interrupted. She had moved to lay next to Cora. He noticed she was taking her pain away even in her sleep.

Stiles glanced at the others, but no one was paying attention.

“I feel like part of this is my fault.”

“Why would you say that?”

“The burn marks on his face are from me.”

Laura took a while to respond. “Scott said you were cursed.”

“Yeah.”

Her eyes narrowed. “So it wasn’t your fault.” Stiles didn’t say anything. She scoffed. “Merlin, you’re just like Derek.”

Stiles sighed. He merely rested his head on Derek’s bed and took a small nap.

He wasn’t sure how long his nap was but he awoke to yelling.

_“Let me see him!”_

“Auror Whittemore, I have to ask you to leave.” He heard Deaton’s voice. He glanced around the room and noticed that Deaton and Morrell had set up a small little lab table in the center of the room, where they were brewing potions.

“You should have locked him up instead of treating him!” Jackson’s uncle shrieked. “Am I the only person who's sane enough to realize what is laying in that bed. Get outta my way Deaton! If you won’t handle the vermin, I’ll do it myself. _Finite!_ ”

Whatever spell the Healers had cast on Jackson to put him to sleep, faded. Jackson’s uncle took powerful strides to a waking Jackson. “Making me look like a fool! Disguising yourself as human when you are a blood traitor.” Jackson’s eyes flew open. He desperately checked his surroundings. His confusion was written all across his face. He tried to shuffle closer to the wall and away from his uncle. “Look at yourself. You’re a disgusting werewolf; you’re lucky I don’t kill you now and get it over with it.” Stiles had very rarely heard Jackson’s uncle shout. He usually got cold and quiet when angry.

“I am taking my nephew out,” He directed at Melissa without looking at her. She was standing by Morrell with a murderous look across her face. Jackson’s uncle either didn’t see it or chose to ignore it. He yelled at Jackson again, who was now shaking in his bed, “It will be in the cellar for you!”

_“Wait!”_

Everyone froze as Lydia stood up.

“Ms. Martin, I will remove the vile creature from your presence. The Martin family shouldn’t have to look at creatures like these.”

“There’s something you should know about Jackson.” Lydia spoke, fuming with rage.

“Well? Out with it girl!”

“Jackson asked for the bite.”

There was a long silence in the ward.

“He what?” Jackson’s uncle hissed eventually.

“He. Asked. For. The. Bite. He wanted to be a werewolf just like his proud noble father.”

Another silence, then Jackson’s uncle roared. “I knew it. I shouldn’t have told you about him. Vile...dirty...monster... _you are no nephew of mine_.”

Stiles, Danny, and Allison gasped, understanding the weight of those words.

Jackson choked on invisible air. “Healer McCall give me the papers. I’m checking him out.”

“You can’t.” Lydia spoke.

“Excuse me.” He spat.

“Leave. Now. Jackson stays here until he recovers and then he’s coming to my home.”

“Ms. Martin, I beg your pardon.”

“No nephew of mine, you just renounced him as a Whittemore according to pureblood law. He is no longer under your care. Leave this place now before someone calls the aurors to escort you out.”

Jackson’s uncle turned red in the face. “You tramp. You know what? I’ll—”

“Or what?” Scott stood in front of Lydia, eyes shining a bright yellow. “She asked you to leave.”

Jackson’s uncle stumbled back, knocking into the potions table. “All of you are freaks.” He glared at Jackson one last time before leaving in a stormy rage.

Immediately, Lydia went to Jackson’s side and climbed into his bed. He wasn’t crying, but he sure was about to. Stiles tried to avoid looking at Jackson and turned back to Derek, who was still sleeping.

_“He’s going to be fine. They all are.”_

Stiles looked over his shoulder as Morrell approached. She had a vial in her hand and worked the IV drip to transfer the potion. Stiles calmed at her demeanor. Merlin, he appreciated this woman’s ability to ignore trivial troubles and focus on what was important.

“How are you so sure?” Stiles asked.

“Because they’ve been through this before.” She said sadly.

Stiles held his shaky breath. “How effective is the potion?”

Morrell moved over to the side to reach Cora’s bed next. “Well, when Alan and I first made the potion, we overshot the healing period. We thought, Cora would heal in a month when she had been injured but it took her nearly half a year. But we’ve improved the potency of the potion since then. This needs to be administered into the bloodstream for a week. And then, they will have to deal with several baths and a salve that I developed that should further speed the process.”

“So how long?”

She observed all the patients. “It depends. Cora, Boyd, and Jackson are going to take the longest, hopefully not half a year though.”

“And Derek?” He questioned.

Morrell’s eyes fell to the burn marks on Derek’s face. “I’m not sure the potions will heal _that_ , he will have to heal naturally.”

Stiles gave a terse nod and looked at his hands. They twitched in his lap and he still felt heat under them.

“You know,” Morrell spoke. “All of you should go get something to eat. Alan and I will handle this.”

“But.” Stiles spoke.

Morrell smiled and rose a brow.

Stiles sighed. He wheeled to the center of the room. Allison, Scott, Lydia, Danny, and Laura all shakily got up and went outside.

Scott grabbed Stiles’ wheelchair and guided him in the direction of the canteen four floors above. Immediately ascending the floor levels, Stiles felt some of the heat alleviate. He scrunched his brows in thought. What was going on? He could still feel the heat but it was now more manageable. He barely noticed Scott grabbing two lunch trays. The heat now felt like sitting out too long in the sun.

Scott placed his lunch tray in his lap and then wheeled him one handed to an empty table at the corner of the room. Scott pulled away a chair and slid it to another table, making room for Stiles. They sat next to each other and Laura sat on Scott’s left. Lydia, Danny, and Allison sat across from them. Stiles observed the distance between Scott and Allison. He didn’t comment though. Instead, all of them half-heartedly ate their food.

Danny fiddled with his spoon as he said, “I can’t believed all that happened.”

“Just another day for us.” Lydia tried to joke, but her voice was too dry.

“Did they catch Blake?” Stiles questioned.

Laura drank from her coffee. “Not to my knowledge.”

“Shit.” Stiles hissed.

“No point in grieving.”

“No point!” Stiles wanted to shout.

“My family died in a fire, everyone’s lucky to be alive. We should be grateful.”

No one said anything. They ate their food in silence and then went back to the room fifteen minutes later.

As they arrived, Stiles braced himself for the oppressive heat. It tightened around him, but Stiles put on a brave face. Stiles caught sight of Erica’s and Boyd’s parents. It was Erica’s mother arguing with Deaton. “How could you let this happen?” The blonde woman shouted. “How do you not run background checks on your professors? They could have died!”

Deaton remained quiet, taking the mother’s brute force.

The others hovered awkwardly, waiting for the tension to dissipate. It never did. Instead, Erica’s mother saw Laura. Her eyes grew cold and she marched over to the Hale.

“You promised us you and your brother would take care of her!” Erica’s mother cried. She was a tiny woman. She had coarse blonde hair in a loose bun and crow’s feet around the stress lines of her eyes. “What happened?”

“I’m sorry.” Laura muttered.

“Honey,” Erica’s father spoke. “There’s no point in blaming. Erica is fine now.”

Erica’s mother gave a small sniffle and headed back to her husband, muttering under her breath, that she thought she was done with hospitals.

The others then entered the room. They stayed there until it got dark and Melissa forced Allison, Scott, Danny, Lydia, and Stiles to return to Hogwarts. The students weren’t in the mood to alert other students they were back so they snuck into the Room of Requirement and spent the night there.

Stiles’ skin felt cold as everyone got ready for bed. He felt a lingering warmth each time he got near Scott, but it was nothing compared to how it was in the hospital. Stiles had a theory about his condition, but he didn’t want to explore it yet. He avoided Scott to not feel it and Scott seemed to notice but didn’t comment. Instead,  Stiles climbed into one of the five beds that the room had arranged in what was similar to the common room. He shut his eyes and dreamed.

He was on an empty road in the middle of the night. He was sitting in the passenger seat of the Camaro while Derek drove. They parked beside the Forbidden Forest. They both got out of the car and Stiles walked around the car to press Derek against the hood and kiss him. But without warning, Stiles rose his hand and punched Derek in the face. Derek collided against the hood of the car. Stiles pulled out his wand and cast flames in Derek’s direction. The flames surrounded Derek and Stiles stepped into the ring of fire.  He rose his fist and brought it down on Derek’s jaw. Again. And again. Derek’s head banged against the ground. The blood spread, dark as spilled wine. Derek’s eyes opened, and his mouth moved like a broken ventriloquist doll. Stiles clasped his hands over his eyes.

Stiles woke up in terror, hoping he had not screamed aloud.

In the morning, as Stiles sat by the window and drank a cup of coffee, Lydia came toward him. She sat on the banister of the window and observed the view of the Forbidden Forest.

“What did you to Derek?” Lydia asked straightforwardly.

Stiles looked at her. “Almost killed him.”

Lydia didn’t give any emotion. “You were screaming his name last night.”

“Oh. It was just a dream.”

“Bad?”

“Yeah. Did anyone else hear?”

“Everyone did. We were going to wake you up, but Scott said it was best to leave you alone.”

Stiles made a mental note to thank Scott later. He wasn’t in the mood to talk.

“You can’t help what you dream,” Lydia continued.

Stiles didn’t tell her that he had watched his dream self with glowing red eyes, wailing on Derek over and over again...and enjoying it.

|~~***~~|

When everyone was ready to go, and Laura came to pick them up, they went back to St. Mungos. Stiles was getting tired of the restrictive heat that met him each time he was in the presence of the werewolves.

Thankfully, all the werewolves were awake when they arrived. Stiles was better at distracting himself when he had people to entertain.

A few hours into the morning, Ethan and Aiden came to visit. Ethan brought flowers.

“So how’s your do good little home?” Lydia asked with a smirk.

“We just bought a nice place” Ethan spoke excitedly. His enthusiasm was welcomed. “We are looking for staff to help us run the place.”

Aiden rolled his eyes, “And he keeps forgetting we need to find kids before we even start talking to people about our organization.”

The twins continued to speak to the pack. They left two hours later though informing them they were going to interview a nice young woman. The pack said their goodbyes.

Shortly after, Auror Parrish came into the room.

“Head Auror Stilinski wants to conduct a short interview with all of you. Don’t worry,” He spoke quickly and with earnest eyes, “None of you werewolves are in trouble, this is to double check evidence with eye-witness accounts.”

The pack each gave each other wary stares.

“I’ll go first.” Scott stood.

“Ah,” Auror Parrish interjected. “The Head Auror actually has a list of who he would like to see. Um first one is Vernon Boyd.”

“I can’t get out of bed.” Boyd spoke with a serious frown.

“We can use a wheelchair.” Parrish suggested.

Boyd glanced at his parents who had come back for the morning as well. Boyd sighed but let Parrish  help him into a wheelchair. The auror seemed kind enough and didn’t treat anyone rudely despite knowing they were werewolves.

Stiles watched as Boyd left the room. Stiles let out a shaky breath.

“Hey.” Derek said, holding his hand. “Don’t worry.”

“ _He_ knows, Derek.” Stiles whispered.

“He’s your dad.” Derek said as a way of comfort.

After half an hour, Boyd finally returned. Everyone jumped on to ask, “What happened?”

Boyd hissed as he was moved back onto the bed. “Nothing, just asked me what happened.”

“Did you tell him you were a werewolf?” Stiles questioned.

“He already knew.” Boyd said.

Stiles released a huff of air and watched as Auror Parrish said it was Erica’s turn. One by one, each were called to give their eye-witness accounts. Stiles felt his heart thump against his rib-cage as he watched Jackson return and then Scott leave. He knew his dad was leaving him till the end. His father knew the others were least likely to lie so he called up first who he felt less familiar with, until Scott and Stiles remained.

When Scott came into the room, Stiles got up from his wheelchair. He was already feeling stronger and he didn’t want that debilitating metal junk following him around. He trailed behind Auror Parrish to where the aurors had their own office within the hospital.

Stiles opened the creaky door and stepped inside where he sat on the even creakier chair.

“Hello, Stiles.” His father spoke curtly.

“Dad, look. I can explain.”

His father ignored him. “I am going to ask you a series of questions and your job is to answer them as best you can, is that clear?”

Stiles didn’t know what to make of his father’s professional tone. “Yes, that’s clear.”

“What time did Derek and his pack go to the Forbidden Forest?”

“It was around six, six thirty.” Stiles said falling into the role.

“Do they go into the Forest often?”

“Yes.”

“How well do they know the forest?”

“A lot of it still uncharted but we know the area within the Hogwarts wards really well. Those outside the wards and treading into Hogsmeade I would say no more than two miles.” Stiles eyes glanced over the quick-notes quill floating off to the side as his father read some other documents.

“What time did you discover your friends were captured?”

“Around eight.”

“Is that when Mr. Mahealani came and informed you or when Ms. Martin had a Banshee vision?”

“Danny came in first told us about Blake, I mean Julia Bacarri and then Lydia had a vision.”

“How did you find them in the forest?”

Stiles felt his heart quicken. He couldn’t lie to his father anymore. “I have powers linked to the full moon. I’m connected to werewolves in a way so I was able to find them with my magic.”

John looked up for a brief moment. He didn’t ask any further, he was only asking about the event.

“How did you break through the hunter wards?”

“I don’t know. Danny was the one who did it. He can break through anything, probably because his family are super famous curse breakers.”

His father continued to question him for another twenty minutes. The questions all revolved around the night of the attack and Stiles answered each one as unemotionally as his father asked him.

“Ok, this is the last question.” John put all his papers down and looked Stiles in the eye. “Are you ok?”

Stiles felt everything around him break down and then he felt arms wrap around his shoulders. He cried into his father shoulder and his father didn’t shush him, he just merely let him cry it all out. He stayed in his father’s arms for what felt like forever.

“Why aren’t you angry?” Stiles asked.

“I’m angry you didn’t tell me.” He replied. “Why would you think I would be angry at you?”

“For hanging out with werewolves, putting my life in danger.”

His father grinned. “Well when you put it that way.” He crossed his arms loosely in front of his chest. “Stiles, you thought you were protecting your friends. I understand.”

“Really?”

“Sort of. You’re grounded by the way.”

Stiles coughed out a laugh. “Yippie. What’s the punishment warden?”

“Haven’t decided yet. I’ll talk it over with Melissa.”

“Nooo!” Stiles whined. “I’ll never leave the house.”

“Which is the point.” John smirked. “By the way. I spoke it over with Deaton and we both decided that it’s best you don’t go to Hogwarts.”

Stiles shrugged. “Hey an extra week head start on summer vacation? Oh no, what a tragedy!.”

His father gave him a pointed stare, in which Stiles only shrugged and smiled again. His dad sighed with a smile. “Well, I have to file all these interviews.”

“You’re going to keep it a secret right. That they are werewolves?”

“It’s going to be difficult, but I think I can tweak some things around with Parrish’s help.”

“What about Blake?”

John sighed. “We can’t find her.”

“What? But you’re aurors! You have to find her.”

“We have the best teams looking for her.”

“What about Harris then? He was helping her.”

John nodded. “Yeah Lydia Martin was the first one to mention that for me, but we can’t charge him for anything.”

Stiles had a mild spasm. “Why?”

“We don’t have proof he brewed the potions.”

“Yeah you do! He’s brewing polyjuice potion!”

“Which he is allowed to do; he is a Potions Master.”

“Not on school premises!”

“I’m aware. Ms. Martin gave me a lengthy discussion, she might have insulted me I’m not sure on that yet but, we can hire a warrant under the pretense of looking for illegal polyjuice potion and then arrest him for abiding Blake. But that would be a warrant under false pretense, which in itself is illegal. The most we can do is give him a fine. But we are watching him closely for anything.”

“Great. What about the hunters?”

“On a one-way ticket to Azkaban. They attacked students on school grounds and can’t prove your friends are werewolves. Also, Deaton was kind enough to pay the papers to keep this entire thing quiet.

"Is he paying Jackson’s uncle too?”

“No. I had a talk with him. He’s on a leave of absence. I might have also threatened him that he’s under the confidentiality of the law in which he can’t reveal anything about a case.”

Stiles sagged, feeling every bit of tension ease off his shoulders. “That’s great, one less thing to worry about.”

“Yeah.” John looked at his son. “About your magic…”

“Ah, that yeah.”

“What is it?” His father was genuinely curious. It felt more like a worried parent than an interrogation now.

“Moonwalker magic. It’s—uh, I got it from mom.”

“Is it dangerous?”

“No,” Stiles lied. “It’s magic that lets me kill werewolves.”

His father was silent, too smart to believe Stiles’ lie. He sighed. “You better head back to your friends. They’re quite protective of you by the way.”

Stiles got up and shrugged. “They’re my pack.”

|~~***~~|

Stiles tossed and turned in bed. He was back in his own home, but he still couldn’t shake off the nightmares. He was beating Derek on the ground while Stiles laughed. His eyes were glowing red and seemed to have lost all sense of the world. Derek had stopped struggling against Stiles. He laid motionless on the floor, already dead, but Stiles continued to beat him over and over again, until Derek’s head looked like a dropped, cracked egg. Stiles stopped, he looked around. He was in the forest. No. He was in his backyard. A few feet away from him, he could see Allison and Scott lying motionless on the ground as well. He stepped close to their bodies and saw an arrow lodged between Allison's eyes. Scott had an arrow in his throat. The scenery was familiar. He got a strange sense of deja vu. He stepped away from their bodies, trying to run. But as he turned, he saw his body looking back at him. There was an arrow in his forehead. His double fell into his arms and Stiles screamed.

He woke up clutching his pendant. He was covered in sweat. Stiles panted and kicked his sheets off the bed. He stood and paced around his room, clutching his head. Until finally, his hands came to the pendant. Stiles growled. He ripped the pendant off and threw it across the room. He then dashed to his school trunk. He threw clothes out, looking for the Moonwalker book. When he found it, he chucked it under his bed, to never look at it again.

He dove back into bed, but his breath was harsh in the silence, and the silk sheets beneath him irritated his skin rather than sooth. As the moon grew and mocked him from his window, Stiles rushed outside.

His bare feet touched his neatly trimmed backyard. The moist grass prickled his skin as he walked around. He searched for Scott and Allison, but he couldn’t find them. He knew it was a dream, but he just had to make sure.

When he found nothing, he went back to bed, and stared at the moon from his window the entire night through.

|~~***~~|

Stiles found himself coming back and forth to St. Mungos for a week as he visited the pack. They were all doing better, but they were still injured. It took a while for Stiles to even look at their wounds. Melissa would wrap them in bandages to avoid infection. When she learned they couldn’t get infected, she still did it mostly for modesty sake. Stiles watched her movements as she wrapped up Cora. He memorized her technique and stored it for future reference.

He was currently sitting next to her on her bed. He grabbed the strawberry chocolate frog and broke off a piece of its leg, he handed it to her when Melissa moved on to Isaac.

“Thanks.” Cora muttered, stuffing it in her mouth. She glanced at him. “You look terrible.”

“Says the girl with a gaping hole in her left clavicle.” He broke off the frog’s head.

She stuck her tongue out and accepted the chocolate. “I meant your eyes.” She said after chewing. “You look like you haven’t been sleeping. Are you ok?”

“Um…” Stiles eyes wandered over to Derek who was watching them carefully. There was no point in lying in a room full of werewolves. Well he could use his Moonwalker magic...but that was the cause of this entire mess. “Yeah, I haven’t. I’ve had a few nightmares.” He tried to play it off as nonchalant. “No biggie.”

Cora eyed him skeptically, but didn’t press any further.

Stiles eyes found Derek’s again and he could already sense Derek wanting to give him a lecture. Yeah, nope. He stood up, making up the excuse he was going to go buy the others more candy.

He left the ward and waited for Melissa to round the corner. When she approached, he began to follow her hastily.

“Melissa!” He called.

She paused. “Stiles?”

“Uh. I was wondering if you could help me with something.”

She eyed him skeptically. “With what?”

“Uh I was wondering if you could maybe perhaps prescribe me Dreamless Sleep Potion?”

She froze. “You haven’t been sleeping?”

Stiles shook his head. For the past week he had been having insistent nightmares about watching Matt’s corpse, killing the pack, killing Derek. And now from last night’s nightmare with apparently Scott and Allison. He wasn’t getting any sleep. He was positive he was starting to hallucinate.

“Go wait in my office.” Melissa finally said.

Stiles thanked her and headed in the general direction. He sat in her fun swivel chair. He put his head down on her desk and waited patiently. He wanted all the nightmares to be over. He was tired of seeing the pack covered in blood, their faces pale as bone. He was tired of seeing Derek in his dreams. Sometimes Derek showed him his splintered and broken jaw where his teeth hung loose. Sometimes Derek reached for him. Stiles would wake, choking on his horror, and stare at the darkness until dawn.

He tried to clear his mind and instead appreciate how his body felt cool. The heat thing was getting ridiculous. He had come to the quick conclusion, that whenever he was near one of the werewolves, the temperature in his body increased. And it didn’t feel good at all. It burned, but he didn’t want to tell anyone yet. It was nothing he couldn’t handle.

He jumped up when the door opened.

He sat up straight when he saw it was Melissa. She sat on the edge of her desk. From her lime green robes, she pulled out a vial. Stiles reached out for it, but she stretched her arm in the air.

“Ok Stiles what I am about to give you is dangerous ok?”

Stiles nodded stupidly.

She continued, “I want you to follow all directions. Two drops under the tongue every night before you go to sleep. No more than that. You can overdose, ok.”

Stiles looked at the vial. It was small. “What do I do when I run out?”

“Then you stop taking it.”

“What?”

“I’m serious Stiles. This can become addicting. It will only last you till the end of the summer ok.”

“Ok.” Stiles reached for the vial again, but she pulled it out of reach. “I’m serious. You should talk to someone if you are having nightmares.”

Stiles sagged. “Who? I can’t very well go to a therapy session and be like yeah I almost killed my pack.”

“What about Morrell?”

Stiles thought it over. “I’ll talk to her when I go back to Hogwarts.”

Melissa gave him a hard look but finally relented the vial over. Stiles thanked her and stuffed it in the pocket of his own robes.

|~~***~~|

The Stilinski household residents were situated in the large living room, all of them situated in what Stiles recalled to be their usual seats as far as he, Scott and his father went. There were eight new additions sitting all over the living room. Derek had sat bravely in front of his father.

There was an awkward silence after Stiles gave a long and detailed explanation of what happened since fourth year. His father wanted this talk once everyone was well enough to leave St. Mungos. So there Stiles sat explaining all about the werewolves and Moonwalkers. Stiles knew his father didn’t know how to start the conversation once Stiles finished the rant.

Unfortunately, Jackson had something to say, “What are you wearing.?” He directed at Isaac, both of them were sitting next to each other.

Despite, nearly all the werewolves were in bandages Jackson had found the time to dress like he was a model in _Witch Weekly_.

Stiles rolled his eyes and his head came onto his hand. He then groaned because Isaac, as per usual, did the mature thing and stooped to Jackson’s level.

“Oh don’t start,” Isaac countered right back. “Like your John Pegasus throwback is any better.”

Jackson actually stood from his seat.

“Jackson?” Lydia rubbed her temples. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

At that point, the pack was groaning, while John looked mesmerized by the affair. “This,” Jackson began snootily as he clutched at the collar of his shirt. “Is Jonathan Pegasus imported from Paris you ignorant cheap Twilfitt and Tatting knockoff.”

“At least I’m not the one with pumpkin juice stains on their shirt.”

Jackson’s eyes flashed just before he checked for stains. The stains weren’t there and Isaac laughed. Erica laughed with him.

Jackson glared, “Why you—”

“Jackson, shut up and sit down.” Derek ordered as Lydia forced him back to his seat.

“Um.” John began looking at the exchange. “Are they um..”

“Housetrained?” Erica suggested somewhat teasingly. “Yes. Derek taught us how to hide the bodies and everything.”

Derek shot her a look.

John reddened painfully. “That’s not—never mind.” He skulked in his seat. “I just wanted to meet all of you.”

“It’s not like you haven’t before.” Scott said.

“I mean the real you.”

“We aren’t that different, Mr. Stilinski from when you met us all during the Holidays,” Cora interjected.

“No you aren’t, but I wanted to meet you without false pretenses. Don’t worry, I’m not upset, much. We still need to discuss your grounding measures, Stiles. I finally come to a conclusion with Melissa.”

“Yeah I saw that coming, all right dad, lay it on me. Where are the terms and conditions? I’ll sign happily.”

“Well, no Scott for the entire summer break. Melissa said that would be a good punishment for both of you to understand how to communicate with your parents when going to face danger.”

“What? Dad!”

“Mr. Stilinski!” Scott shouted.

“No Scott. No flooing to each other’s houses, no floo calls, no letters. Nothing.”

“DAD!”

“Stiles.” His dad said.

“Fine. Am I allowed to see the others?”

John looked at them. He paused. “Yes, but rules are they have to come over. And you have to inform me when they come. And a bucket full of chores are waiting for you.”

Stiles nodded taking the terms perfectly. As long as his father wasn’t threatening he couldn’t see anyone again, he was good. He could work with this. It was only a summer right?

His dad seemed pleased and everyone then began conversing politely with one another. He noticed though midway with a conversation with Isaac, Allison pulling Scott to the backyard. That was strange.

|~~***~~|

Allison took Scott’s hand and led them to Stiles’ backyard. She went all the way to the edge of the wards, hoping they would be out of hearing range from the werewolves. She had felt this entire week leading up to this and frankly she just wanted to get it over with. She wanted to leave. Her father had been right all along. She didn’t know what love was.

“Scott,” She forced out. “What you did back there…”

She saw Scott tense up. “Allison I—”

She interrupted before this turned into a long winded discussion. “Do you realize what you did?”

Scott looked at his shoes. “I told the hunters to not hurt you.”

“And?”

Scott shrugged.

Allison scoffed. “Merlin, you don’t even know what you did was wrong. Do you?”

“Allison.”

Allison felt her temper flare. This would have been so much easier if she could get Scott to agree that he had messed up, but he wasn’t seeing it at all. “You asked them to not lay a hand on me. How could you do that?”

“I was trying to keep you safe.” He pleaded.

“I don’t need protecting. I’m not a weak girl you know that, and you should know better than to ever treat me like one.” She felt her voice raising. She hated the way it cracked. It made her sound weak and made her argument seem invalid.

Scott reached out for her and placed his hands on her shoulder. “Allison, I’m sorry, I panicked. I thought they were going to kill us. I wanted one of us to be safe.”

“And you choose me?”

“Yes.”

She shrugged off his hands. “Scott, you don’t even see the big issue here do you? You placed my life above the others, who you’ve known for much longer than me. You placed me above them. How could you do that?”

“Because I love you.”

“That’s not love, Scott.” Allison shouted.

“Well what was I supposed to do? They weren’t giving me an option.”

“Oh, they gave you an option.”

“No, they didn’t.”

“Yes they did. You could have chosen yourself. Help the others escape. I know you smelled us there. You could have even chosen Derek! Not me.”

“Allison.”

“I’m done. I’m breaking up with you.”

Scott was silent. She could see the second his entire world came crumbling down. But she held her resolve, taking a step forward and invading his space. “I’m breaking up with you.” She held his gaze long enough to know that he got the message. As she watched his eyes tear, she knew he understood. She took a step back. “Don’t contact me. Don’t write to me. I’ll see you for next term.” She didn’t bother to put on a fake smile. That would be too cruel. Finally, she got the courage and walked away.

She could feel the sting of tears poking at the corner of her eyes, but she just had to last a few steps. Merlin, she still loved him, but she couldn’t be with someone who valued her above everyone else. That wasn’t how things were supposed to go. She entered the living room and smiled at everyone.

“I have to go. I’ll see you guys later.”

She asked Mr. Stilinski if she could use the floo. He agreed and without any preamble, Allison left.

|~~***~~|

Stiles found the entire situation strange. He didn’t know what was going on, until Derek pressed a hand to his lower back and whispered in his ear. “You need to go to Scott, right now. I’ll take the others and go. I’ll see you later ok.” Stiles was vaguely aware he nodded. He stood up from the couch and rushed outside.

He saw Scott at the furthest tree in the wards. When he approached, Stiles finally understood. Stiles sat on the ground and opened his arms wide. Scott wasn’t moving. Stiles sighed and pulled the sobbing Scott into his arms. Scott wheezed.

Stiles ran his fingers through his best friend’s thick hair, holding him close. He almost forgot that Scott was an ugly crier. He was all wheezes, hiccups, and snot, lots of snot. But Stiles didn’t complain.

“She broke up with me Stiles.” Scott finally was able to get out in a coherent sentence.

“I’m sorry bud,” Stiles whispered, pressing his lips against Scott's head.

“She broke up with me.”

Stiles nearly cried out in discomfort as he felt Scott use his werewolf strength to hold onto his robes. His hands were shaking. Stiles reached out and grabbed one of Scott’s hands. He gently dislodged it and placed it on his lap.

“What am I going to do?” Scott questioned.

“You are going to keep being Scott.” Stiles said, shaking his friend. “You did it before, you can do it again.” He hoped that was as comforting as Stiles thought, because as he held onto a crying Scott, he realized he wouldn’t see Scott for an entire summer.

“The only thing you have to do right now is just be you and just keep breathing. _Just keep breathing._ ”

**  
  
  
  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I am back!! That was a thrilling adventure of angst. Sorry for that folks! 
> 
> Anyway so the scene with Jackson and his uncle was inspired by Barty Crouch and his son. So he tells his son ‘you are no son of mine’ and I feel like the way Barty Crouch Jr. behaved its a revoke of your pureblood status, it works as an exile. But that is my interpretation.
> 
> Also the close ward mentioned, is a ward where crucioed patients go, whose minds have been damaged beyond repair. Neville’s parents are here. 
> 
> I think that's it. Send me your questions and what you thought of the chapter. Stiles magic going berserk for some unknown reason, the poor pack being hurt, Jackson, the breakup. Love to hear all your feedback!!


	41. Summer Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first part of summer vacation.

Stiles was bored. Ever since his father grounded him, all of Stiles avenues for entertainment had all but dried up. The wireless in his room kept losing signal so he couldn’t listen to music very well. He couldn’t read because he had read every book in the library before, and despite he no longer needed a wheelchair, he still couldn’t move very well. All he had to do was think, and even that wasn’t helping very much.

He needed Scott.

For four days, Stiles sat by himself with nothing but his mind to entertain him. It eventually got to the point where immature mischief was all he had. He would swap the marmalade jars to confuse his father and hang portraits upside down around the home.

He was upset he couldn’t visit his friends because of the terms of his grounding, so he had to wait for them to come to him. Which, if he thought about it wasn’t very likely considering they were all still healing from their injuries. He groaned, looking at the ceiling of his bedroom.  Thoughts of that night were quick to come but suddenly, he heard the knocker echo around his home.

That was strange. He jumped out of bed and slid down the banisters to reach the ground floor. Immediately, he felt warmth flush his cheeks and a tingle to spread to his fingertips. He didn’t have to guess who it was. He felt it. He took a breath making sure he could handle the heat. He yanked open the door.

Stiles’ smiled at Derek. He took in the sight. He was wearing loose muggle sweatpants and his typical leather jacket that was zipped all the way.

Stiles leaned against the doorway.

“You know, you shouldn’t be apparating when you are still injured.” Stiles stated.

“Probably not.” Derek said with a grin.

Stiles looked at him and gave in to the impulse to kiss him. Derek responded immediately.

Stiles found himself grinning while they kissed and he held on tight to the leather jacket. Derek’s hands had found his hips. Stiles’ hands clenched on Derek’s chest. He was enjoying the moment, but his brain supplied him with a flashback of clutching Derek’s collar to attack him. Stiles pulled back with a gasp. Derek eyed him suspiciously. He led Derek inside to avoid an interrogation. He shut the door.

“Sorry, I haven’t been able to come over,” Derek apologized. “I’ve been taking care of Cora.”

“How is she?” Stiles asked, forgetting his own troubles for the sake of others.

Derek sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “She’s...I need you to come help.”

Before, Stiles could answer, he heard his father’s voice from the end of the hallway. “Well, I didn’t expect you to have company so soon Stiles.”

Stiles flushed, hoping his dad hadn’t seen any of the kisses. It was one thing to explain he was in a pack, it was another to explain he was dating a werewolf. An Alpha at that.

“Sorry, Mr. Stilinski.” Derek quickly muttered. “I forgot I had to ask permission when I come over.”

His dad eyed Derek up and down. “You are one of the polite one’s aren’t you?” Derek shrugged. “Good. Stiles needs people like that.”

Stiles snorted. Derek glared.

Derek walked over to Stiles’ father. “I actually came to visit wondering if Stiles can come over to my house.”

“He’s grounded.” John crossed his arms over his chest.

Derek nodded, agreeing. “My sister needs help. Stiles is one of her closest friends, she needs him. And I can’t side apparate with her because it might aggravate her injuries and she can’t floo.”

John looked confused. “Why not?”

“Fire.”

Stiles understood. “Dad?” He pleaded.

John sighed. “Only for this time ok. I expect you back by six.”

Stiles nodded and thanked his father. He was already pulling Derek outside so he could side-apparate with him. Derek grabbed Stiles’ wrist and guided him to the fireplace in the living room instead, informing him he wasn’t too confident to side-apparate yet.

Immediately, when Stiles flooed to the Hales, he saw Derek dash up the stairs taking two steps at a time. Stiles looked at him strangely. He stood awkwardly around the living room and rubbed his arms. He could feel the heat stronger here than with just Derek alone. He took a deep breath. He could feel someone in the kitchen, and three people upstairs. Before he could concentrate on who was who,  Derek appeared at the top of the stairs as a large black wolf. He nearly took up the entire stairway. He was huge and got bigger as he descended the stairs. His head was as big as Stiles’ torso and if he stood, he probably would tower over Stiles. He froze a bit, remembering that the last time he saw Derek like that he had almost killed him. He pushed the thoughts aside. He made a vow to not have those thought during daylight hours. He would pretend to be ok. Pretending was easier; he was good at it.

_“Seriously Derek?”_

Stiles head snapped to the side where he saw Laura coming out of the kitchen. She was wearing PJs and drinking out of a mug, despite it was late in the afternoon.

Laura greeted Stiles. “He looks for any excuse to be in his wolf form now, even though I keep telling him, he’s not letting his human skin heal properly.”

Derek bared his teeth and went back up the stairs. Laura rolled her eyes and looked at Stiles. “Cora’s upstairs. Just follow the trail of fur that Derek keeps shedding everywhere.”

Stiles let out a weak chuckle and climbed the stairs. He was about to go to her room but then he caught a glimpse of Derek’s tail going further up the stairs. Stiles followed.

He was left with the sight of Cora wrapped in a blanket and sitting by the large french windows. The sun was at it’s highest point so it illuminated half her body and struck shadows all across the rest. Derek hobbled over toward her and with his snout, nudged her arm. Stiles approached and sat next to her.

“Hey.” Stiles muttered.

“Hi.”

“So Derek brought me.”

Cora glared at the large black wolf on the floor. Derek bared his teeth, got up and then left down the stairs.

“So that’s new.” Stiles stated, watching the black wolf descend the stairs.

“He’s just showing off.” Cora said.

“Oh.” Stiles looked at her bandaged hands. “How have you been feeling?”

“Like crap. Everything hurts.” She said monotone.

“I’m sorry.”

She shrugged. “My injuries aren’t as bad as the last time I got burnt. That’s a plus. I get to keep my hair.”

Stiles sighed and scooched closer to her. He lifted his arm slowly to place it around her shoulders, but she glared at him, so Stiles backed off awkwardly and just sat next to her. He knew Derek brought him for a reason. “You’re not using the floo?”

She coughed. “I’m not exactly looking forward to have any flames around me.” She sighed. “Look, Stiles, I’m fine. Laura and Derek are exaggerating. I just can’t get near any fire right now, that’s it. I’m not depressed or anything. I know I just have to wait and heal up. That’s all there is to it. And the more people keep pressuring and asking me about it, makes me just want to claw their faces off. All I would like is some peace and quiet and strawberry chocolate frogs.”

Stiles wasn’t fooled by Cora one bit, but Stiles felt strongly for her that he knew when to drop it. So he sat there with her and moved the conversation over to Quidditch scores for the season. After two hours, Cora eyes drooped. Stiles helped her to her room. He left the door slightly ajar in case she needed anything.

Stiles finally headed down. He saw Laura, Derek (without fur), and Isaac in the kitchen, eating lasagna straight out of a pan instead of getting plates. When he caught their eyes, Laura ushered him inside and cast a _silencio_.

“How is she?” Laura asked.

Stiles shrugged. “She doesn’t want to talk.”

Laura groaned. “I think we might have to ask Morrell for help again.”

“Morrell?” Isaac questioned.

“She helped us after our family,” Derek answered.

“Well I think we just need to leave her on her own for a bit.” Isaac stated. He leaned against the island. “I mean when my dad died, I didn’t want to talk to any of you. Sometimes you just need time to yourself. The most we can do is just show her that we’re here, in case she wants to talk. If we keep pushing it, she’ll get more distant. She doesn’t like talking about emotion in the first place in case you guys hadn’t noticed.”  

All eyes went to Laura. While Cora had the final decision, Laura had the authority. She was more than Cora’s older sister, she was her guardian, which meant she had to choose the best. Laura sighed. “Fine. But I still want everyone to keep an eye on her.”

Everyone agreed. Stiles wanted to stay longer, but he had to go back home. Derek walked him back to the fireplace and gave him a farewell.

 

|~~***~~|

 

After the occurrence with Cora, Stiles didn’t expect the others to visit him much. Erica and Boyd had no way to travel here, he couldn’t see Scott for obvious reasons, Lydia was home doing her own thing, and Merlin he wasn’t going to look for Jackson.

His father had ordered him to go weed the garden by hand, which was keeping him busy at least. He pulled on an unhelpful weed and toppled backwards. When he got back up, he felt a strange presence under his skin. Something was in the house. He was about to go and explore when suddenly, he saw a black mass running at full speed toward him. He wasn’t expecting a black wolf to come out of his home and he held his chest, exhaling the breath he had sucked in.

Stiles made an oof noise as Derek pressed his weight on him. Stiles gasped for breath. Derek made a yipping noise and pulled up.

Stiles took the time to gather his nerves as he watched Derek sit on his hind legs. He still hadn’t quite gotten over the fact that he had nearly hurt Derek. He reached forward and put a hand on Derek’s back. He couldn’t see much because of the dark fur, but he could feel the welts in Derek’s skin. Derek didn’t make a move to turn away, but watched him carefully.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles muttered, breaking his vow. His hands went over to burrow in the thick tufts of fur under the wolf’s jaw. As soon as he could feel the follicles between his fingers, Stiles’ tension melted away as he looked into Derek’s eyes that he barely realized were filled with sadness. Guilt tugged at the Slytherin’s heartstrings. Stiles idly scratched under Derek’s jaw. “I’m sorry.” He repeated again. “I remember everything you know. I remember what it felt like to punch you. I almost killed you Derek.”

Derek moved forward and his wet snout pressed against Stiles’ wet cheek.

“Stiles?”

Stiles head snapped to the open french window. He saw his father looking at the sight carefully. His hand was reaching inside his robes for his wand.

“Yeah?”

“Is that Derek?” John asked awkwardly.

Stiles nodded. John didn’t move. “Is...that safe?”

Stiles sniffed and tried to hide his tears. He ruffled Derek’s cheeks and forced Derek to look at his father. “Think so. He’s not eating me yet.”

“Ok,” His father dropped his hand. “Well. I moved his clothes to the guest bedroom on the second floor.”

Stiles head snapped to Derek, eyes wide. “You’re naked?”

Derek barked.

Stiles gaped, “Oh Merlin.”

“Stiles!” Stiles barely realized his dad had been calling his name two times already.

“What?”

“I’m going to work. Make sure those weeds are done by the time I get back.”

“Got it!” He saluted his father as he left.

Stiles sat on his heels and looked at Derek. “Any luck you’re going to help?”

Derek stuck his snout in the air and marched off toward the fountain in the center of the yard. He pulled himself up and sat on the fountain bench. Stiles laughed, realizing quickly that Derek was a lot more expressive in his wolf form.

Stiles sighed and wiped his hands on his thighs before continuing his work. It was nice having Derek as company, despite that he was napping and not making a sound. He took a break midway through and went to the kitchen for a snack. Stiles offered Derek food, but Derek didn’t want anything. He just followed behind Stiles.

Stiles resumed his work and Derek resumed to sit on the fountain.

He continued to work until his hands were sore and pink and his nails were filled with dirt. He walked over to Derek and the wolf awoke lazily. The wolf got up and stretched. Stiles watched Derek curiously as Derek suddenly placed a huge paw on his thigh and began rubbing his face all over Stiles’ side.

“Not that this isn’t cute and all, but what are you doing?” Stiles asked as he was shoved around in uncomfortable angles. Derek of course couldn’t answer. “Fuck! Are you scenting!” Stiles cried out.

Derek only replied by pausing to sniff a particular spot on Stiles’ skin, gently touching a wet nose to him before starting his assault all over again.

“Ok! Ok! That’s enough!” Stiles pleaded as he was knocked to the grass. “I have the craziest urge to shower now, just to spite you,” Stiles huffed as Derek let him sit upright again. Derek bared his teeth and hopped back inside.

Stiles followed him inside and up the stairs. He left Derek on the second floor to go find his clothes as Stiles headed to the third. Stiles entered his bathroom to go shower, because really he was disgusting. As he emerged back in his room, he saw Derek tugging down his Henley.

Stiles gaped as he saw fresh tender welt of skin on Derek’s flank.

“Derek.” Stiles said.

“I’m fine.” He said a bit coldly.

It was such a stark contrast to how Derek behaved as a wolf.

Stiles sat the edge of his bed as Derek remained standing. He looked a bit off in the room, wondering where he fit with all of Stiles’ things.

Stiles’ eyes fell to that spot on Derek’s side. It was now covered with his shirt. Stiles didn’t doubt that he had some all over his legs as well...but where were the ones Stiles left on his face.

“You put on a concealment charm, didn’t you? On your face.” Stiles accused.

Derek tried to look innocent. He couldn’t pull it off. “No.”

Stiles stood up and approached Derek. His hands reached up to cup his cheeks. He meant to do it gently, but he more or less slapped Derek. Derek flinched and hissed.

“Are you sure?”

“I didn’t want you worrying.” Derek replied.

“Is that way you’ve been prancing around as a wolf in front of me? So I couldn’t see it?”

“No.” He shrugged Stiles’ hands off.

“Why are you here then?”

Derek made a tchh noise. “Glad, I can visit.”

Stiles flinched. He forgot he could be an asshole. “Sorry...that’s not.”

“I feel safe.” Derek interrupted, his face was so stoic that Stiles couldn’t take him very seriously. Safe? Stiles almost killed him. How could Derek even look at him and not fucking care! Stiles wanted to shout and scream at Derek’s idiocy, but Derek continued speaking. “The wolf makes me feel safe and I know it calms you.” Stiles didn’t know what he was talking about. “It was the wolf that snapped you out of the imperius curse.”

Stiles found a desperate need to correct him. “It was more like the imperius curse got confused on who you were so the curse didn’t work anymore.”

Derek’s nostrils flared. “Regardless, I’m here to help.”

“So what you’re saying is that you are here on a job to keep me calm?”

Derek stomped away from him. “It’s not job, Stiles!” Derek nearly shouted. “Why can’t I want to keep you safe?”

Stiles grew red in the face. “Because I almost killed you! Why aren’t you angry about it? Why aren’t you scared of me!”

“It wasn’t your fault!” Derek shouted. He paced toward Stiles again, but the Slytherin pulled back. Derek’s nostrils flared once more. “If you want to talk about who's killing who, everyone should blame it on me. I was the one who wanted to go run in the forest. I’m the reason we got caught. I wasn’t strong enough to protect the pack when we got ambushed. And now my sister, Boyd, and Jackson can barely move because they nearly got burned alive because of _me._ And no one is yelling at me or pointing fingers, which I don’t goddamn understand!” Derek went over to Stiles’ bed and sat down on the edge. “It’s my fault. Just like last time. I killed my family, Stiles. And I almost killed this one. So for once in your life, shut your fucking mouth, and let me take care of you because no one is letting me take care of them right now. I’m trying to fix what I destroyed.” Derek looked up at him. “And don’t start with the whole you almost killed me. You weren’t in your right mind. Blake controlled you. In the end, you saved us all.”

Stiles licked his lips and then sat down next to Derek. There was still this ache in the center of his chest and he felt like he had to tell himself to breathe. His hands trembled in his lap and he fought the urge to cry. “I’m sorry for being selfish.”

Derek didn’t say anything.

Stiles groaned and flopped backwards on his bed. Derek fell a little more slowly next to him. Both of them stared up at the ceiling for several minutes.

“How come,” Stiles began when the sky turned dark. “And I’m not trying to bring up a sore subject or anything to make you feel bad, but I was wondering why did you suddenly turn into a wolf?”

Derek sighed, “Because I was vulnerable and accepted that vulnerability. It’s contradictory to be vulnerable as a wolf, it’s more of a human thing. When an Alpha finds the balance between a werewolf and its human side, one develops the ability to change. My mother could do it and so could Laura.”

Stiles smiled, thinking about his recent patronus. “It’s nice, having something connecting you to your mom.”

“Yeah.”

They were silent for a while. Stiles had settled his hands on his belly and Derek had his arms behind his head. Stiles focused on listening to Derek’s breathing and he wondered if Derek was doing the same thing.

“Can you stay the night?” Stiles suddenly asked.

“I think your dad wouldn’t be happy with that.”

“He doesn’t have to know. He has a late shift.”

Derek turned his head. Derek’s face was serious, the green of his blue eyes steady as he regarded Stiles.  “Sure.”

Stiles smiled. He stood up and when through his armoire and pulled out a pair of pajamas and went into the bathroom to change. Derek laid around the bed a moment before stripping off his shirt and sliding under the covers. He didn’t have any other clothes with him and he hated sleeping with a lot of clothes anyway. He wanted to take off his sweat pants, but he didn’t want to give Stiles a heart attack at seeing his legs.

In the bathroom, Stiles was trying his best not to have a mental crisis. He was quickly realizing he was going to be in bed with Derek. To avoid any awkward nightmares, Stiles pulled open the mirror cabinet, pulling out the little midnight blue vial. He shook it a few times and then opened it, placing two drops under his tongue. He swallowed excess saliva to get rid of the nasty taste. He changed into his nightclothes, and swallowed thickly. He tried to take a few deep breaths to calm his nerves before exiting the bathroom again.

He blinked, realizing Derek was already in the bed and had stolen most of the pillows.

“What the hell?” Stiles whined and walked to the side of the bed, glaring at the mound of fabric. Derek gave him a satisfied smirk. “Share!” Stiles ordered and leaned over to tug on one of the pillows.

Derek barely budged. Stiles huffed and climbed on the bed. Derek released a small chuckle and surrendered one of the pillows to hurl it at Stiles’ face. The force knocked Stiles’ flat on his back. He gasped in shock and was about to announce war when Derek climbed over him and his face hovered over Stiles. Stiles glanced down quickly at his lips and back at his eyes.

“Hey Derek?”

“Hmm?”

"What's it like to be able to lick your nose?" Stiles asked abruptly, ruining the moment.

"Wait, what?"

"When you're changed. You sometimes lick your nose. What's it like?"

"I don't even realize I do it. I mean sometimes I do because it's itchy. Do I really do it that often?"

"No, I was just wondering. Doesn't it like… taste weird?"

"Not really, it's like if you lick your finger. It tastes like skin. I lick it to wet it, not to eat my own snot."

"Yuck."

"Well you're the one who brought it up."

"Yeah but I didn't want to get into that part. Ok yeah, I kind of did.”

"If it makes you feel better, my snot and your snot are two different snots. Yours is mostly dirt and mucus buildup, mine is mostly saliva.”

"Okay we can stop now. I really wasn't intending to get into a discussion about boogers. That fascination ended when I was around five." Derek gave him a look. “Ok seven...ten.”

Derek chuckled. He pulled up Stiles’ chin and planted a chaste peck against his lips. He pulled back and there was that serious face again. Derek was wondering if this was alright after their little fight. Stiles didn’t have time to fight with Derek. He had had enough of that. All he wanted, was to be a teen and enjoy the moment.

“What the hell was that? That’s not a real kiss!”

He grabbed Derek by the neck and pulled him down. Derek broke it apart so he could smile. Stiles’ felt his chest burst. There was still that warmth from his magic, but Stiles was growing accustomed to it the longer Derek stayed. Derek leaned down again and pressed them together properly.

A knot untied in Stiles’ gut and he responded eagerly to the kiss. Both his hands came up in Derek’s hair. Derek’s hand slid down his chin, down his chest to rest on his hip, while he used his other arm to keep himself from crushing Stiles.

Stiles grew more comfortable into the kiss and wanted to touch every bit of Derek. His hands came down to cup Derek’s cheeks. Derek hissed.

Stiles pulled back. “Your face.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not bad.” Derek muttered.

Stiles glared. He pushed Derek off and went to go turn on one of the oil lamps. He looked at Derek’s chest. He sighed and went back to the bathroom and searched for the potions and bandages. He came back and jumped on the bed.

“Take off the concealment charm.” Stiles ordered.

Derek rolled his eyes, but he rolled over onto Stiles’ nightstand where he had left his wand. He waved it in front of his face. Stiles watched the red welts appear.

Stiles went straight to work. Stiles' hands shook as he applied the salve. He grabbed a cloth and began to dab it on Derek’s cheek.

“Where did you get the healing salve?” Derek asked.

“I asked Morrell to give me a batch. Turn your head.” Stiles applied more until Derek complained his face was uncomfortably sticky. He wasn’t sure the salve Morrell made would help, she said it wouldn’t, but Derek did say it dulled the pain, so that was better than nothing.

Stiles reached into his lap grabbed a bandage and began to cut the material with his teeth. He applied a small strip to Derek’s cheek and watched the magic bandage stick to Derek’s skin. Stiles moved onto the burnt skin at Derek’s stomach and side. He repeated the motions he had watched Melissa do in St. Mungos. Derek didn’t say much other than to complain that it was cold.

“Pants off.”

“Excuse me.” Derek's brow rose.

“C’mon, I know your legs got the worst of it. Pants off.”

“No.”

“Derek.”

“No.”

“Derek. I remember Morrell saying that this needs to applied three times a day. One in the morning, afternoon, and at night. It’s nighttime. Take them off.”

“No.”

“Derek Lucas Hale do not make me bust out the Laura Hale card!”

Derek rolled his eyes, but his hands reached down to his baggy sweats. Stiles gulped. _Oh._ But all sexy thoughts flew out the window when he saw Derek’s legs. They were all red and pieces of skin were missing. He didn’t think about it. He grabbed more of the salve and began to massage it in Derek’s legs, starting at his thighs.

Derek grasped and reached out to still Stiles’ hands. He breathed through his nostrils several times before leaning back and letting Stiles continue. Stiles went slower this time. He tried to distract Derek.

“Why do you get naked before changing into a wolf?”

“I don’t like ripping my clothes every time I do it.”

“That’s not what I meant. I meant in an animagus, the wizard’s clothes change with them. Why isn’t it for you?”

“Because,” Derek grunted as Stiles went under Derek’s knees. His head banged against the headrest. He took a large breath. “Because it’s not an animagus at all. Wizards retain their human brain when they change. I don’t. I literally have the mind of a wolf.”

Stiles paused at Derek’s kneecaps. “Seriously?”

Derek nodded, hands went to clutch at Stiles’ bed sheets. “Yeah. I can only think in a few words, like hungry, sleepy, hurt, pack, scent. And when people talk I only really grasp a few words too. Like about fifty? I can mostly gauge what people are saying from their expression and scent.”

“Huh.” Stiles stored that information in his brain as he ran his hands over Derek’s shins. He quickly went over Derek’s feet.

He reached behind where he left the bandages. He wrapped them carefully around his legs. Derek protested, saying he didn’t need them, but Stiles said he didn’t want to accidentally stick a finger in a wound in the middle of the night. When he finished, he went back to the bathroom, washed his hands, and headed back to his room. He saw Derek digging around his sweatpants. Derek pulled out a ring and placed it on his third finger. Stiles recognized the ring as the one the Hufflepuffs gave him.

It warded off nightmares.

He felt a little relieved knowing he wasn’t the only one struggling. He turned off the light, and snuck under the covers.

Derek curled around him. Stiles smiled and tucked his chin on Derek’s head, before falling asleep.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Morning came, and Stiles found that Derek had draped himself all over his chest. He would have found it adorable, if he wasn’t struggling for air. “Derek,” Stiles wheezed, arms flapping like a fish.

Derek pressed harder.

“Derek,” Stiles croaked.

Derek groaned and rolled over. Stiles took desperate needed exaggerated breaths. He sat up and stared at Derek. He was now lying flat on his stomach giving Stiles a perfect view of the triskelion tattoo. He reached out for it and traced the movement of the swirling colors with his pinky. “C’mon buddy.” He glanced at the clock. “You need to wake up. We need to change the bandages.”

Derek groaned again and got one of the pillows to throw it over his face.

Stiles smirked. He leaned in close and whispered. “Aww, is little Der-Bear tired?”

Derek shot up with a murderous glare. Stiles laughed and pecked Derek on the cheek to remove the hostility. He went back to the bathroom to get the supplies. He helped Derek with his wounds again and let Derek get changed as Stiles went to the bathroom to do the same.

Both of them went down to the breakfast room, John looked at both of them strangely.

“I didn’t know you spent the night Derek.” John said as he sipped his coffee and read the _Daily Prophet_.

“Sorry. I uh...” Derek sent Stiles’ a silent plea of help.

Stiles jumped into the conversation, “We were playing exploding snap and we accidentally knocked out. You should see the bed. It’s completely singed.”

“Really? I’ll go change the sheets then.”

“NO!” Stiles exclaimed too quickly. “I’ll do it. I’m grounded remembered.”

“Ah,” John drank a little more from his mug. “There’s some eggs and bacon on the counter.”

Stiles hip checked Derek to get him to sit down. Derek sat awkwardly on the table as he waited for Stiles to serve him.

“Do you want juice?” Stiles asked.

“Sure.” Derek said softly.

Stiles smiled and set everything in front of Derek before getting his own plate ready.

“He does that,” John smiled. “The doting. You get used to it.”

“I just didn’t know Stiles had the capability to be nice.”

John nearly spurt out his coffee. He began to laugh and reached over the table to pat Derek’s shoulder, “You are definitely going to be my favorite.”

“Hey!” Stiles shouted. “Scott won’t appreciate this conversation.”

“We both know Scott doesn’t count. He’s like the second son I adopted and you see him like a brother. It’s nice to see you with a friend.”

Derek pursed his lips to hide the smile.

“Right.” Stiles finally sat down. “Friend.”

Derek waited until Stiles ate so he could begin eating.

“Any news on Blake?” Stiles asked, changing the conversation quickly. He sipped his orange juice.

His dad made a face. “No.”

“Why aren’t you on the case? Aren’t you the best on the field?” Derek interrupted. “Oh that came out wrong.”

“Don’t worry, Derek. Uh, the department felt I would be compromised because my son was a victim. They gave the case to another auror team.”

“What about Jackson’s uncle?”

John sighed. “He’s on a temporary leave. He’s trying to work out a few things.”

Stiles nodded and then began to eat his eggs. “I finished the weeds.”

John smiled. “Good. The library could use a good sorting.”

“Dad!” Stiles whined.

“Remember you are grounded, you just said it not ten minutes ago.”

Stiles wanted to laugh as his dad looked at Derek and Derek jumped. “And Derek, if you happen to stay longer, no helping my son.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Stiles glared at both of them. “I hate you both.”

 

|~~***~~|

 

“You’ve been staring at my ass.”

Derek blinked and refocused, startled as much by the fact that he had indeed been staring. He was sitting on the second floor banister, reading a book on some older more gruesome fairy tales. Not even an hour prior, Stiles had complained how unfair it was that Derek was allowed on the second floor because he was of age. Derek only half-heartedly listened. Now, he hadn’t realized he wasn’t even reading the fairy tale book because of Stiles’ ass. It was a nice ass, and with Stiles standing on the library ladder, organizing the books by hand, it gave him a really interesting angle.

“So what?” Derek asked, shifting his attention deliberately, Derek turned the next page. “And this is a library. Shh.”

Stiles glared. He slid down the ladder, landing with a loud thump as he nearly tripped over his own feet. He hobbled over to lean against the staircase railing looking up at Derek.

“You know I’m getting all sorts of hot and bothered with you staring at my ass.”

Derek didn’t take the bite, he looked down at his book, and nonchalantly flipped a page. “A light breeze makes you hot and bothered.” It wasn’t too much of an exaggeration. Although thinking of Stiles’ hot and bothered was making Derek, damn it. It didn’t help that they hadn’t managed much more than a few makeout sessions and now with Derek being injured, they couldn’t really engage in much activity.

Stiles tried to come off as coy, but it looked more like he was constipated. Derek snorted as Stiles asked, “So what’re you gonna do about it?”

“Like it’s my responsibility.” Derek stared at the book in his hands, trying to remember what the fairy tale was about.

Stiles scoffed. He pushed off the railing and went back to organizing books. Derek watched him when his back was turned. A few books fell to the ground and Stiles bent over. Stiles looked at him over his shoulder with a clear feral grin, that said clearer than words, _gotcha_. It pissed Derek off, but it also sent a rush of heat through him, lit a fire deep in his belly, as if anger and desire were somehow wired together. He slammed his book shut and jumped off the banister of the second floor. He landed with a loud thump, he regretted it as the pain shot up his legs, but he ignored it.

Derek picked up the book that Stiles had dropped and shoved it in its place on the shelf, successfully pinning Stiles to the bookcase. He seized Stiles by the collar. He twisted the fabric with his fingers and leaned forward harshly. He slammed their lips together and Stiles’ hands came behind Derek’s head. He arched up to kiss him hard. Stiles rubbed up against him, breath already coming fast against Derek’s mouth. Derek felt his dick twitch at Stiles’ blatant excitement. But Derek was already feeling a twinge of discomfort on his side and in his legs. Derek dislodged his lips and grinned, “I have to go back home.” He chose to say.

Stiles’ gaped and whined. “Aww c’mon Derek.”

Derek pushed off of him and released a small chuckle. “Have fun in the library.”

Stiles glared. “Yeah, yeah. Hope Laura yells at you for not telling her you stayed the night.”

Derek rolled his eyes and left the library in search of the closest fireplace.

 

|~~***~~|

 

“Do I like bitto cheese?” Jackson asked.

“No,” Lydia and Danny said in tandem.

“Are you sure? Didn’t I eat some at your cousin’s wedding last summer?” Jackson asked Lydia. “Cause I’m pretty sure I liked it.”

“That was goat cheese,” Lydia sighed and took the cheese away from him and replaced it with another kind. “And what are we doing here?”

“I’m hungry. Ergo kitchen.” He made a dramatic Jackson flourish around Lydia’s restaurant sized kitchen.

“The house elves can make the food.” Lydia pointed to her house elf who was sitting patiently next to her.

“Yes!” The house elf cried. “Liverbow, loves making food.”

Jackson made a face, “You’re the one who’s always complaining that I use house elves too much.”

Danny sighed, sitting on the island. “For trivial things. They like making food.”

“Fine.” Jackson threw the crackers on the counter. “Liverbow, can you make me a snack platter?”

Liverbow stared at Jackson with her big eyes. The little house elf didn’t move at all. Lydia interrupted before Jackson could realize that the house elf wasn’t following orders because he wasn’t a pureblood anymore. “How about a snack platter that goes well with my mom’s wine.”

“Yes master!” Liverbow jumped off her seat and began preparing the three food.

Lydia turned to her two house guests.

“So full moon is tonight,” Lydia began. “You going to be ok?”

“Yeah. You got mountain ash from Morrell just in case right?”

Lydia nodded.

“What do you guys do during full moons?” Danny asked.

“I thought you knew everything,” Jackson shot bitterly.

Lydia rolled her eyes, “Don’t listen to him. He’s just angry that you’ve known his little secret all along and didn’t tell him.”

 _“I”_ Jackson began pretentiously. “Still can’t believe you told Lydia so Derek wouldn’t bite me.”

Danny shrugged, “Seemed like a good idea at the time. So what do you do?”

“We used to spend it in the Shrieking Shack.” Lydia answered. Danny made a face. “I know, disgusting. We upgraded to the Room. Thank Morgana, Erica found that place. We don’t really do much. Just make sure Jackson here doesn’t break a nail trying to kill someone.”

“Fun.”

“It is, that’s why you are here, isn’t it?”

Danny kicked his legs twice. “Thought I would hang out with my friends.”

“Well, you picked an amazing day to—thank you Liverbow—to enjoy our company.” Lydia looked at the platter. “Let’s go the living room.”

The two boys followed her and Liverbow trailed after Lydia with a floating platter, a wine bottle, and three glasses.

The three sat around the room making themselves comfortable. Lydia excused Liverbow when she was done pouring their drinks.

“So did you hear when the 2014 World Cup was going to be held at?” Jackson asked Danny.

Lydia rolled her eyes and drank from her glass.

“Nigeria, right?” Danny answered.

“Yup, even with the heat I still think Bulgaria is going to be a tough contender.”

“Really? I think Brazil might make it. They went pretty far in last year’s World Cup.”

“Please, you only like Brazil cause they have the hottest players.”

Lydia hummed, “Finally, I can contribute to the conversation. Danny, you must show me these players.”

Jackson glared. “I’m sitting right here.”

“Jackson everyone in this room knows that your pretty boyness can’t compete with the hot attractive fit Quidditch player.”

Danny held his snigger but paused when he saw the door open. Everyone turned to the doorway.

“Lydia?” Lydia’s mother, Natalie asked.

“Yeah?” Lydia answered.

“Can we talk?”

Lydia dipped her finger in her wine glass. “I’m busy entertaining guests. You always stress the importance of the activity.”

“Lydia, it’s important.”

Lydia sighed and left her drink on the ground. She sent Jackson a look as she followed her mom. She led her to the parlor and Natalie closed the door behind her.

Lydia went to go sit on one of the couches. She crossed her legs and rested her hands on her knee. “All right, what do you want?”

Natalie fumbled a little. “Are you ok?”

Lydia’s face scrunched. “What kind of question is that?”

“I’m asking.”

The Ravenclaw rolled her eyes. “I’m fine mom.”

Natalie’s eyes shifted to the window, to her shoes, and then at Lydia. “And Jackson?”

Lydia’s furrowed her brows. “His poor-excuse of an uncle told you, didn’t he?”

“Yes. He didn’t tell your father though. I made him promise.”

Lydia sat straight. “I’m not breaking up with Jackson if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it, dear.” Natalie walked over to her and sat beside her. “I was so happy when you two got together.”

Lydia shifted away from her mother. “So, what do you want?”

“I heard what happened.” Natalie reached out a hand and placed it on her shoulder, “Honey, you battled hunters and you didn’t even tell me.”

“It didn’t seem like you would care.”

“Sweetie, how could you say that?”

“Oh I don’t know.” Lydia stood up, “The ignoring for the past sixteen years tends to send a strong message that I’m not wanted.”

“That’s not true.”

“Well it feels like it.”

Natalie settled her hands on her lap. “I admit, I’ve been a terrible mother to you, but I want to try.”

“Why now?” Lydia crossed her arms over her chest.

“Because you could have died! And if you died, I would have nothing. Despite all the criticism I’ve given you in the past, you are the best thing in my life. And I want to be a part of yours.” Lydia avoided looking at her mother. Lydia?”

“This isn’t like you.” She whispered, “Accepting Jackson, accepting me. What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry,” Natalie rose and stood in front of her daughter. “I know this may be a lot to take in, but Lydia, I’m sorry. I’m willing to try but only if you want me to.”

“If I want you to?” Lydia shouted. “Why wouldn’t I? I’ve been waiting for all my life. You can’t just come to me and expect me to be ok with everything you did.”

“I understand.”

“No, you don’t!” Lydia felt her composure slipping. “Because you don’t know anything about your daughter.”

“I know you’re hurting. You’ve been hurting since you came back from Hogwarts. You stare vacantly at everyone, even Jackson sometimes. And I want to be there to help you with whatever you are dealing with. I notice your pain, Lydia.”

“It’s hard not to notice it,” Lydia tried to joke. She sucked in a breath. She was surprised her mother had even bothered to care and notice that. Lydia was good at hiding her emotions, so how had her mother noticed? Did that mean she actually cared? She had to. “Ok,” Lydia said at first reluctantly, “But it’s going to take a lot of work and time. Something we are both going to have to work toward.”

Natalie smiled. She hugged her daughter. Lydia bared through the gesture and began to wonder when it was socially appropriate to pull away from the hug. Her mother grinned at her, “Are you going to start with what’s been bothering you?”

“Oh you don’t waste any time do you?” Lydia joked.

“I have sixteen years worth of catching up. So come on,” Natalie walked over to the couch and patted the cushion next to her. Lydia sighed and walked over.

“It’s kind of hard to explain.”

“You said work on both sides, sweetie.”

Lydia hoped her unamused face was reaching her mother. After a moment though, she began “Uh you know how I’m a Banshee? Don’t start with the whole argument that the strain is not from your side of the family, that’s not what this is about.” She took a deep breath, “But I’ve gotten decent enough with my abilities where I can sense when people are dying.”

“That’s terrible.”

“It was at first. I could sense when people at Hogwarts were dying and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. And worse, I could feel the death.”

“No wonder you’ve been like this, Lydia you—”

“No, that’s not it. Not really. Before my friends got captured, I felt someone die, but because of my incompetence, I couldn’t feel who or where it was happening. I wasted time in saving them. I could have helped sooner. I could have stopped my friends, my pack, Jackson from ever getting hurt.”

Her mother was quiet. Lydia didn’t really expect a reply so she was surprised when her mother said, “What’s done is done. In the meantime, Jackson is welcome in our home all he wants. He can even live here too.” Lydia began to giggle, “Why are you laughing?”

“I just didn’t expect my pureblood mother to have compassion for a werewolf.”

“It’s Jackson, I care for that boy. I still can’t believe his uncle disowned him.”

“I can.” She sighed and looked at the clock. “I should be heading back to them.”

“Oh we both know those two boys can entertain themselves.”

“That’s true, but we have to prepare Jackson for the full moon.”

“Is he going to be ok?”

“Yeah as long as I’m there. I’m his anchor. Though you might not want to come to my room just in case.”

“Is it that bad?”

Lydia saw her reaching for her wand. “No,” Lydia answered, “But after what’s happened, I just want to make sure he’s ok.”

“Well if you need any help, don’t be afraid to call for me.”

Warmth settled in Lydia’s chest. She smiled. “Thank you.”

She slowly stood and walked back to the living room.

“Mistress Martin!” Liverbow cried, popping in front of her. “Sir Mahealani and Jackson are in

your room.”

“Thank you, Liverbow.”

The house elf beamed at the praise for a few seconds before snapping her fingers. Lydia went back a few steps toward her room.

When she got there, Lydia smirked and leaned against her doorway. Danny was straddling Jackson’s lap and pulling his shirt off, while Jackson tried to buck him off with his hips.

“Is this a bad time?” Lydia smirked.

“Your boyfriend is being uncooperative.”

“Oh?” Lydia stepped closer. She leaned against her bedpost. “He’s my boy friend?”

“He is. When he is acting like this.” Danny grunted when Jackson knocked Danny off the bed. Danny cried in triumphant when he managed to take off Jackson’s shirt. Lydia held in her sadness as she saw Jackson’s bandages splattered with blood and a nasty yellow mucus.

“Danny wants to give me a sponge bath. That is where I draw the line.” Jackson shouted.

Lydia recalled Morrell informing them they would need to help bathe Jackson. She sighed and looked at Danny. “I got this covered. Liverbow!” Her house elf appeared at the top of her bed. “Pop Jackson and me into the bathroom.”

“Lydia!” Jackson shrieked, but both of them were already inside Lydia’s bathroom. Lydia locked the door and turned to Jackson.

“Drop the act. Now get your ass over here so I can take off the bandages.” Lydia ordered.

Jackson rolled his eyes, but made a shuffle to his girlfriend. He held up his arms and Lydia peeled away the bandages. She made a face as the mucus stretched. She retched and threw the bandages in the trashcan. She made a mental note to tell Liverbow to burn that. She helped Jackson strip and together they removed the bandages on his legs.

When he was all bare, Lydia tried to hold up his weight as much as possible as they placed him in the bath that Danny had prepared previously.

Jackson shivered. Lydia got a washcloth and began to gently wipe away his wounds.

She felt Jackson immediately put up his walls. “Ah, just what I need. I love to finish my days with a hot redhead giving me a degrading sponge bath.”

“Me too.” Lydia snarked back.

“I’m not a redhead.”

Lydia pressed hard on his shoulder on purpose. “Or hot.”

He glared at her over his shoulder. Lydia pecked his shoulder with her lips. Jackson returned to glaring at the wall. When Lydia moved the cloth to his chest and then down his stomach. Jackson grasped her arm, she held the gasp. “I’ll do that.”

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

Jackson stayed silent.

Lydia sighed, “Jackson. Your uncle, he—”

“Please leave.”

Lydia nodded and stood straight. “Right. You know where the towels are.”

She left the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

“Was he cooperating?” Danny asked. Lydia hummed. “How do you do it?”

“Deal with Jackson, you mean? It’s not that hard. He just likes to put up all these walls with a bunch of useless snarks, once you figure out how to break the walls with the same snark, Jackson just becomes putty in your hands.”

“I can hear you two!” Jackson shouted from the bathroom.

Lydia and Danny both laughed.

They waited for Jackson to finish his bath. When he emerged, they applied the salve and wrapped his body in the bandages.

The full moon approached, Jackson sat on Lydia’s bed while Danny barricaded them both with mountain ash. Lydia watched the full moon from her window and couldn’t stop the breath falling from her lips when Jackson didn’t break once. It really did show that she meant a lot to him.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Scott’s claws clung to the wall. His nails dug deep into the drywall as he pulled down.

“Scott!” he heard his mother cry.

“Don’t come in!” He growled. His voice sounded demented. His claws dislodged from the wall and went into his abdomen. He shouted as the claws pierced his skin. Blood dripped to carpet. He had been having a mental breakdown since the full moon rose fifteen minutes ago. He couldn’t control himself. He was destroying everything around his room. He was destroying himself. He sucked in a breath as his claws dislodged from his stomach from zero to a hundred. They dug back into a new spot. He cried.

He wanted it to stop. He tried to focus on his anchor. Focus, on Allison but the wolf was angry at even the thought of her. He wasn’t in control anymore.

“Scott! I’m going to get Stiles!”

“No!” Scott banged against the door with his shoulder. “Not Stiles.” He didn’t want his best friend seeing him like this. But more so, he knew something was wrong with his best friend. The week when everyone was in the hospital, Stiles was distant, but only toward the werewolves. They were harming him. At least, that’s what Scott thought. He wasn’t sure, but he didn’t want to risk anything. He cared too much for Stiles. 

“Sweetie, you need help!”

“No. Go get Derek!”

He heard his mother run down the stairs and then he smelled the floo powder. He sagged against the wall. His claws pierced his thighs and pulled up.

Immediately, he heard three pairs of footsteps and the wolf in his mind calmed a bit. Alpha? This was the first time, Scott heard his wolf side plead.

The door was knocked down. Scott gasped when he saw Derek and Laura approach him. Scott saw his mother stand worriedly at the doorway.

“Scott?” Derek tentatively touched his shoulder.

Scott wanted to reply but he continued to maul his own body. He heard Laura speak. “We need to take him back to our place.”

“Is he ok?” His mother asked, stepping forward. Derek told her to step back.

“I don’t know,” Laura spoke honestly. “He can’t seem to find his anchor anymore. Derek, go back home. The chains are in my room under the bed, go set them up in the attic.”

Derek nodded and apparated away.

“Chains?” Melissa cried, stepping into the room. Scott admired his mother’s courage as she refused to step back when Scott accidentally growled at her.

“It’s for his own protection,” Laura grabbed his hands and pinned them to his chest. “It will stop him from hurting himself.”

“What if we use mountain ash? Deaton gave me some.”

“No, he’ll hurt himself more with them.”

“Why is he hurting himself?”

Scott tried to get out of her grasp.

Laura growled loudly to assert dominance. Scott wasn’t buying it. The wolf in his head told him he only took commands from Derek.

“Because the wolf is telling him too.” Laura said sadly. “I have to take him. He will be fine. You can come to our place if you like.”

Melissa nodded. “How are you going to get him there?”

“Like this.” Laura said. The last thing Scott remembered seeing was Laura’s raised fist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm sitting at home, unable to enjoy real food because I got my wisdom teeth out. I can't really do much so I just wrote fanfiction so this chapter came quicker than expected.
> 
> Did you like the Sterek moments? What do you think of Cora, Lydia, Jackson, Scott? Love to hear anything and thanks so much for all the love last chapter!! Oh Jackson and Danny make a comment to 2014 Quidditch World Cup, I know its 2015 but looking at the [TIMELINE](http://twinklingpaopufruit.tumblr.com/post/108960768906/reuploading-because-my-account-got-deleted) it is currently 2011, I think thats the correct ages of them in Teen Wolf cause technically they should have graduated high school in 2013...or was it 2014. Meh. I tried. I can't do math. This is why I'm an English major. 
> 
> Not sure when I will upload but I will upload. I am determined to see this seven year journey all the way through.
> 
> Follow me on [TUMBLR](http://twinklingpaopufruit.tumblr.com)


	42. Summer Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second part of summer vacation

“How was the full moon?” Stiles asked Derek.

It had been a few days since he had last seen the sourwolf and all he had to say was a shrug. Derek reached for the platter of fruits at the center of the breakfast table and then sat down.

“Right.” Stiles replied, talking to himself more than anything. “How’s Cora doing?”

“She came down to the living room.”

Stiles frowned, “I guess that’s progress. Maybe Isaac is right; we just need to be patient with her.”

Derek shrugged again as he bit into his apple.

“Well,” Stiles sighed. “I have chores to do...so yeah,” Stiles left the kitchen and headed out to the backyard. He went to the shed and grabbed the extendable ladder and set it against the house. He tapped the top step twice. The ladder extended until it reached the roof. Stiles sighed. He grabbed his bucket and climbed the ladder to clean the gutters. He was only fifteen minutes into the gruesome chore when he saw Derek emerge in his wolf form and patrol outside. Stiles huffed and continued to work. Twenty minutes in, Stiles mind began to fill with boredom. To solve his predicament he babbled.

“Do you think garden gnomes dream?”

Derek didn’t make a sound. Stiles smiled, remembering that Derek couldn’t really understand him while he was in his wolf form. So that gave Stiles free reign to talk non stop for an hour. If Derek minded, he didn’t say anything.

When he was half done with cleaning the gutters, it was already midday. Stiles decided to go eat some lunch; Derek went upstairs to go change. Stiles prepared them both messy sandwiches. He went to the sitting room, knowing that Derek would be able to find him. He sat the plates down and went back to the kitchen to grab them some butterbeer from the pantry. As he headed back, he saw Derek already eating his sandwich.

He made his way over to the couch and helped himself to the available space next to Derek. He invaded the other’s personal space and wrapped his arms around the Alpha, needing to know that he was there. Needing to know he was still alive. He hugged him tightly. Derek let out a loud audible gasp and dropped his sandwich on his plate. Stiles immediately let him go.

Derek’s teeth clenched as he took deep breaths.

“I’m sorry! I forgot!” Stiles pulled away. He had forgotten the bruises and burns because he was starting to get used to seeing them on Derek’s face and body. He began to lift the side of Derek’s shirt to see the burns.

“Stop,” Derek growled.

Stiles glared. “I just want to see where they are so I know where not to touch.”

“Touching isn’t the problem, it’s you crushing your skinny bony fingers into them.”

Stiles made a face of apology, “Sorry.”

Derek took another deep breath. “I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“No it’s ok. Are they healing?” Stiles lifted his shirt again. This time Derek let him. He couldn’t see the wounds because of the bandages. Laura must have taken care of him this morning.  

“Slowly. The ones at the bottom of my feet healed already.”

Stiles sighed, lowering his shirt softly. “Sorry,” He repeated and then began to eat his own sandwich. Derek did too.

“What’s wrong?” Derek asked, when Stiles got quiet.

“Nothing, why would anything be wrong?”

“Because you wouldn’t stop talking for an hour straight a few minutes before this.”

“Weren’t you taking a puppy nap?”

“I wasn’t. I was trying to tune you out, no luck.”

“I thought you couldn’t understand me.”

“I can’t, doesn’t mean your voice is any less annoying.”

Stiles laughed bitterly. “I was just…” He picked at the crust off his bread. “We can’t really… ”He started blushing. “We can’t really make out...without hurting you.”

Derek stared at him for a long moment, “You mean sex.” He said blandly.

“ _Sex?!_ Who said anything about _that._ You’re crazy why would I be thinking about—ok maybe—oh don’t give me that look! I’m a healthy sixteen year old boy, who happens to have a hot boyfriend.”   

Derek ignored the praise and instead said, “Not for another two months.”

“Which means I’m basically sixteen already.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Which still means, you are underage.” He stood up and grabbed his plate.

“Son of a witch's tit! Are you actually going to hold out on me until I’m seventeen!” He shouted Derek’s name when he began to walk away. He could hear Derek laughing. Stiles stood up and followed him to the kitchen.

Stiles hands clutched the kitchen island. “You’re actually serious.”

Derek shrugged. He walked around the island to peck Stiles’ on the cheek. He clasped a hand on his shoulder. “Sex is off bounds.”

Stiles was about to whine, but Derek kissed him again this time on the lips. “But other stuff is ok. We’ll just have to wait till I heal. I’m not really up for anything right now.”

“Right.” Stiles agreed, seeing the solemn look on Derek’s face. “How hard can that be?”

 

|~~***~~|

 

Allison ignored the bead of sweat clinging to her brow line as she swung her sabre. She kept her eyes on the dummy’s movements as she dueled with it. She dropped low to avoid a long swing. She jumped back up and found an opening quickly. She dug the point of her sabre into the dummy’s midsection. The dummy stopped moving and stared lifeless at her.

_“I haven’t seen you use a sword in a while.”_

Allison spun on her heel. She saw her father walk into the training room of their manor.

Allison smiled. She holstered the sword with her father’s collection along the wall. She then went to her bag to get a bottle of water. She drank from it before replying, “I was getting rusty.”

Her father didn’t comment. Allison wiped her mouth and went back to training. She walked to the other side of the room to the rows of punching bags lining the far side of the wall. Her father stepped slowly into the room. His hand skimmed one of the punching bags before sitting on the benches. Allison ignored him and continued her training. She kicked the punching bag and watched in satisfaction as it swayed.

“You’re too heavy on your feet,” Her father commented.

Allison rolled her eyes and began to bounce in place as she continued kicking the bag.

“Still too heavy.”

Allison’s hands reached out to stop the punching bag. “Yes, dad?” She called over her shoulder.

“I’m only trying to help.”

Allison counted to three in her mind to avoid retorting rudely. “It’s not helping.”

“Hmm.” Allison could see from the corner of her eye, her father cross his legs. “Lydia sent you a letter.”

Allison punched the bag. “Yeah, I saw.” She went back to her training.

“Well her harpy eagle isn’t leaving until you send back a reply.”

“I know.”

“It’s starting to eat Jambon’s food.” He said in reference to Allison’s owl.

“I’m sure Jambon is taking care of himself.”

It was quiet for a long moment. The only noise was the sound of Allison’s fist hitting the bag with a dull thunk.

“Allison.”

“What?”

“You’re leaving your left side wide open.” He stood up, his hands clapping his thighs. “C’mon.”

He led her over to the raised floor in the center of the room. Allison grinned and slid under the ropes of the ring. She watched her father take off his boots and gently place them on the side.

“Are we really going to do this?” Allison laughed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well...” She made a gesture at his form.

His brows scrunched in amusement. “I’m not old, Allison.”

“I know, it’s just...I can’t remember the last time you fought.”

Her father glared at her. “If I win, you are going to stop acting like a brat and tell me what’s wrong.”

Allison thought this over and then decided, “Ok. If I win, you can stop being a nosy father.”

He smiled. “Alright.”

The two went into battle stances. Allison noticed her father’s stance was lazier than usual.

But immediately, her father slammed into her. Allison gasped and tried to react quickly. She kneed him in the gut. He jumped a few feet away from her. She threw a punch, aiming for his jaw. Her father didn’t even dodge, which she found strange, but her minor distraction was enough for her father to lift his leg and catch her in the middle. She tried to brace herself as it connected. She could feel a few of her ribs quake, as pain shot through her body.

She crouched low as her father spinned to continue the kick with his other leg. Allison rolled on the ground. She let out a breath.

She stood and saw an opening to take her father to the ground, where she could easily strike. But as she wrapped her arm around his neck, her father wrapped his arms around her midsection and fell with her, using the momentum of his larger weight. He successfully pinned her to the ground.

“Win.” Her father grinned above her.

He stood up and offered his daughter a hand. She let herself get picked up.

“So? What’s wrong?” He asked, immediately.

Allison looked at the ceiling as she tried to regain her breath. Her father waited patiently.

“I broke up with Scott.”

His brows scrunched. “When?”

“About a week after the pack nearly got killed.”

“Why?”

Allison slid under the ropes again to leave the ring. She jumped off.  “What is this? An interview.”

“It’s me being concerned for my daughter, who dueled with a dangerous family of hunters and is moping around the house refusing to talk to anyone. I’m sorry but the last time you did that it was because you watched your mother die. Forgive me for being a parent, Allison. So either you talk to me or we are going to have to change schools again because apparently that’s what worked last time.”

She let out an annoyed breath. She spun to face her father. “I broke up with Scott because he placed my life above everyone else. That’s why.”

Her father leaned against the ropes. “One more reason for me to like him.”  

“No dad, you don’t get it! He—put me above all his friends. I can’t—I don’t want someone who puts me above everyone else. Why can’t I want someone who cares for others too?” She rubbed her forehead for a brief moment. Her hand came down slapping her thigh, “And you probably think I’m crazy. People in relationships are meant to care for each other, protect each other, that’s why they are together. But it didn’t feel that way. You should have seen it!” She took a long inhale of breath. “The pack was tied up. Blake asked Scott to choose who he wanted save. He chose me! I wasn’t even in danger. He was the one who was about to die and I was there to save him and he chose to use his last resource on me.”

Her father sat down, his legs under the ropes of the ring. “But he thought you were in danger.”

“I don’t understand how he believed that. I know he smelled the others. And we both know for a fact that I am capable of handling my own. I proved it that night. I took down the leader of the Fuoco family. But no, he treated me like some weak thing that needed protecting. He was too focused on me that he didn’t see the big picture.” Allison felt tears leaking down her eyes. “And Merlin, worse yet, he put a hunter above werewolves. How is that going to look like to everyone else? I haven’t even spoken to the others. I bet they hate me for it. I bet Derek wants me out of the pack for taking his top werewolf away from him. I don’t know why I thought I would be able to fit in with them. ”

“But it wasn’t your fault.” Her father said sadly.

“It sure feels like it.”  She went back to her bag and tucked the strap over her shoulder. “I’ll message Lydia to get the eagle out of the foyer. I’ll see you for dinner.”

 

|~~***~~|

 

Stiles and Derek fell into a pattern as the month progressed. Stiles would do chores around the house, his father would leave for work, and then Derek would come over. He would strip per usual, away from Stiles of course, change into his wolf form and prance around the house distracting Stiles from his chores or sleeping around the manor.

Stiles at the moment was cleaning the kitchen. Derek wasn’t in the room with him, but he could feel him a floor above. He wasn’t sure what Derek was doing, but his presence was calming. Something he thought wasn’t going to happen after _that_ night.

He was somewhere between wondering how long the jar of mayonnaise had been in the pantry and debating whether he should taste it to find out, when he felt Derek slip his arms around his waist.

“I hope you’re not thinking of actually putting that in your mouth.”

“What? No!”

Derek tucked his face in Stiles’ neck. “Is that why your finger is covered in it.”

“Oh you’re deducting skills need some work. I was planning on feeding it to the garden gnomes. If they died, then this mayonnaise is obviously expired.”

“Sucks for the garden gnomes.”

“No. It would help me. My dad told me to get rid of them, but they keep finding their way back. I think there’s a hole somewhere...”

“Well,” Derek took the jar and sniffed it. Immediately, he extended his arm out and retched, “It’s expired.”

Stiles took the jar. “Still doesn’t mean I can’t feed it to the gnomes.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Are you almost done cleaning?”

“No. If someone decided to help—”

“—I’m not the one who got himself grounded.”

Stiles spun on his heel to glare at Derek. Derek was grinning from ear to ear, obviously amused with the situation.  Stiles opened his mouth ready to retort but Derek quickly caught his mouth. Stiles whined into the kiss. His hands immediately went up to Derek’s neck.

Oh Merlin, he’d missed this, had missed it more than he could ever have imagined missing something that hadn’t even existed in his universe until a few months ago.

Derek still hadn’t fully healed, but he was doing much better. Stiles could tell from the way, Derek pressed with force against his mouth as opposed to the last few weeks with Derek’s tentative touches. Because even though Derek said he was not up for anything strenuous, he had obviously lied because they kept making out around the house—and toward the end Stiles had to be the responsible one, because Derek was a crappy patient, hating like hell anything that made him seem weak, and it would’ve sucked ass if Derek had hurt himself all over again. They’d done as much as they could manage, and some of it had been fantastic, but this—rough, hungry full-body contact, wrestling and humping and writhing was amazing. Derek’s hands went down to cup his ass. _Fuck yes._ Stiles moaned in Derek’s mouth. Derek’s hands went lower until he was lifting Stiles off the ground and placing him on the edge of the kitchen counter. Stiles’ legs wrapped around Derek’s waist, pressing their crotches together. An oh Merlin’s balls, Derek was hard. Stiles threw his head back and moved closer to the edge of the counter so that gravity pushed him right into Derek’s lap. Derek growled low in his throat and pressed a moist mouth to his neck.

Stiles hands found their way inside Derek’s shirt and began to feel up his chest, mindful of the bandages around his midsection.

“Fuck,” Stiles gasped as Derek’s palm cupped Stiles’ in between his legs.

Stiles mouth found Derek’s neck and he pressed kisses to it, trailing up his ear. Derek let out a wrecked sob when Stiles mouthed at his ear lobe and tugged. Derek’s hand began to move harder and with a definite purpose. _Oh fuck,_ he was definitely going to come in his pants if Derek kept this up.

_“Oh my god.”_

Both of them froze, too afraid to move at the sudden third party’s voice.

“Stiles.”

Stiles took a deep breath and peeked over Derek’s shoulders. “Don’t you dare move,” He hissed in his ear. He did not want to give Melissa a clear view of his hard-on.

“Hi Melissa.”

“Hello. Hello, Derek.”

“Hi, Ms. McCall.” Derek replied awkwardly.

The woman had her arms crossed and tapped her foot. Her entire posture and face screamed that she was not amused. “So...” She trailed.

“Yeah.” Stiles answered intelligently.

“Does your father know?”

“Uh…”

“Right. You do realize I have to tell him.”

Every sexual thought fled Stiles’ body. He pushed Derek as he jumped off the counter. “What? No, you can’t!”

“Stiles, Derek is three years older than you.”

“Two and seven months!”

“And you’re a minor.”

Stiles spluttered. “Why does everyone think they can use that against me. I’m practically sixteen.”

“Not till another month and even then you won’t be seventeen yet.” Derek answered.

Melissa’s head tilted. She turned to Derek, who looked like he was contemplating whether he should jump out the window from the second story. “You gave him the talk?”

He nodded, eyes wide.

“Hmm.” She seemed satisfied. “Ok, glad to see one of you is responsible. But you still have to tell your dad, Stiles.”

“I know,” He muttered.

“Anyway.” She shook her head to get rid of the mental picture, “I came over because Laura said you were here. I had a few questions about Scott.”

“What about Scott?” Stiles asked, alarms ringing in his head.

Melissa ignored him. “Oh c’mon Ms. M! You gotta give me something! You’ve been keeping us apart, how much more can you torture me!” He whined dramatically.

Derek and Melissa shared a look.

“I know,” Derek said as if reading her mind.

“He’s fine,” She said slowly. “But I was wondering if I could talk to you privately.”

“Of course,” Derek replied. He looked at Stiles, “I’ll see you later. Don’t feed the mayonnaise to the garden gnomes.”

“Psh. Who do you take me for?”

Derek sighed in exasperation and left the home with Melissa, via the fireplace. He was totally going to feed the garden gnomes mayonnaise.

  
|~~***~~|  
  
“What’s wrong with Scott?” Derek asked when they went to the Hale house. He led her to the living room. She took one of the recliner chairs and Derek sat on the sofa. He watched her closely. Her curled hair was frizzier than usual and there was this paleness to her dark skin that only highlighted her dark circles. She had probably been working the night shift the night prior.

She wrung her hands in her lap and her eyes went to the corner of the coffee table. But her gaze wasn’t vacant, her eyes were filled with ponder. “He’s different.”

Derek sat straight. “Hostile?”

“No. Um, he’s distant. I mean he’s a teenage boy, so it’s to be a little expected, but this is a little out of character for Scott.”

Derek rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Crap.”

“What?” Her brown eyes met Derek’s. “Is that bad? It’s bad isn’t it.”

Derek leaned back on the couch and he looked at the fireplace. “It’s more like I can’t do anything for him. If he had been hostile, I could get him to submit, but this is different. His wolf side is lamenting the break up with Allison. He’s trying to separate himself from the pack. The wolf doesn’t want anyone to see that he is hurting.”

“Ah,” Melissa understood more clearly now. “So what can I do?”

“Wait it out.” Derek replied. He glanced upstairs. “My sister is acting the same way.”

Melissa hunched over and her hands came to her face. “Maybe having him separate from Stiles was a bad idea. He should be in the company of his friends, maybe that would help.”

Derek eyed the woman and he was reminded of his own concerned mother. He banished the mental image with a shake of his head. “No, having him separate from Stiles was actually a good idea. During the last full moon, Scott made me promise not to tell Stiles how he lost control again, that he doesn’t want to burden him.”

“Why doesn’t he want to see Stiles? I offered to go get Stiles that night; I know he has the power to calm down werewolves. He’s done it before. I’ve seen it.”

“I’m not sure. Whatever it is, it’s probably the reason Stiles has been distant too.”

Melissa snorted. “Because that incident in the kitchen looked distant.”

Derek struggled to hide a smile. “I meant, he’s not being Stiles. He’s rambling like usual but he’s using it as a distraction, he hasn’t been focused on really what he’s been saying. It’s more pointless drivel as opposed to…” Derek struggled to find the right word, “Stiles’ pointless drivel.” Melissa nodded as if she understood. “It’s strange. But I’m waiting it out, like I am with my sister and how you should be with Scott.”

“But there has to be something more than I can do.”

“He can come over to hang out with Cora and Isaac. I think they would appreciate the company.”

She seemed to enjoy that plan because she agreed without hesitation. “Ok.” She clapped her thighs. “By the way you hurt Stiles, oh I promise you Derek Hale I know how to hurt a werewolf in about a dozen different ways and one of them involves you dangling on a bridge upside down. Also, I hope you remember I’m Head of the Creatures Induced Injuries Ward.”

Derek fought the eye twitch. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Great.” She stood up. “You can expect to see Scott sometime tomorrow.”

“Ok.” He led her to the fireplace. “Have a nice day, Ms. McCall.”

  
|~~***~~|

 

When Stiles had fallen asleep in the sitting room with Derek, he should have thought it over more thoroughly. Because at the moment, while having Derek spoon him on the couch was really nice, having his dad stand over them was not.

“Uh...hi dad. You’re home early.” Stiles said. And why the hell was Derek still fast asleep.

“Study room, _now._ ” His father said sternly. His father did a small dramatic flair as he turned on his heel and left the room.

Stiles felt his heart increase exponentially.

“Sorry,” Derek muttered, sitting up.

“Dude!” Stiles slapped his arm. “Were you awake the whole time?”

“I woke up right when your dad got here.”

“Ah great, let me take the crossfire.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “He’s expecting us both down there. He knew I was awake.”

“Crap.”

Derek side eyed him. “I thought you had already told him.”

“It might have slipped my mind—oh will you quit glaring? Plus, I didn’t think it was time to meet the rents yet, you know.”

“We’ve been together for nearly four months.”  Derek said.

“Ok I was scared, happy!” Stiles yelled dramatically.

Derek actually smiled, pleased that he got the admission out of Stiles.

Stiles was not amused, “Laugh all you want almighty Alpha, because we are both going to see my dad. C’mon.” He grabbed Derek by the arm and hauled him over to the door. They went down the stairs and approached John’s study.

Stiles swallowed the lump in his throat and pushed open the door. He saw his father sitting behind his desk with a blank expression. The lump returned. Both of them sat in front of his father’s desk.

“Ok, I’m going to set one thing clear, and I want you to goddamn listen, Derek Hale,” John said turning his sharp eyes to the werewolf. Derek sat up straight in alarm and fright at John’s no nonsense tone. “Because I don’t understand how two boys like yourselves are doing this. I am frankly disappointed. And I expected better, a werewolf, really?”

“Dad,” Stiles began ready to defend Derek.

“In my opinion, and probably the opinion of the entire wizarding community, you two shouldn’t even be allowed to date.”

“What? Dad, no you’ve met Derek.”

“Exactly. And I think he’s too smart and good for you.”

“What?” Stiles spluttered.

“Because I’ve known you two have been together since the start of summer. And Derek’s known that I’ve known.”

“Huh?” Stiles let his mouth hang wide open.

He turned to his father and Derek. Both of them were wearing equal grins and John looked ready to burst with laughter.

_“What the hell dad?!”_

John smirked and leaned back in his chair, “Maybe that will teach you to keep secrets from me, huh?”

“Fucking hell.” Stiles muttered in disbelief. “Did you tell him?”

Derek shook his head, “He figured it out and told me to treat you well, which was kind of him,” Derek said, sucking up to John, “Because everyone lately has been threatening me.”

“Melissa got to you, huh?” John asked with a smile.

“Yeah by mentioning her title.”

John laughed, “That’s Gryffindor women for you. What’s wrong Stiles?”

Stiles shook his head still amazed his dad did this, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I wanted to teach you a lesson and wanted to have some fun. You do realize you got that charming Stilinski humor from me right?”

Stiles let out a huge breath and bent over to place his head on his knees, “Oh Merlin. Why didn’t you tell me!” He directed at Derek.

“I thought it was funny.”

Stiles eyes opened wide. “Oh no, you two have formed an alliance already. That’s it, I’m done for. I am going to drown in sourwolfness and dad jokes. I’m moving in with nana in Poland, that’s it. That is the most reasonable course of action I can take. By dad, I love you. Derek, it’s been an amazing four months but adios. A man’s gotta do what he’s gotta do to survive.”

His dad gave him an amused glance, “Sit down, Stiles.” Stiles plopped in his seat. “Derek, you can go now. Thanks for participating.”

Derek nodded and left the study.

“So,” John said, his face now turning serious.

Stiles rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I’m sorry.”

“Wow, I’m surprised I didn’t have to beg that out of you.”

“I should have told you. I’m surprised you aren’t mad.”

“For dating Derek? Stiles from the stories I hear that boy has been good to you and so have you and that’s all I want to hear. Next time though, if something important comes up you tell me, ok?”

Stiles saluted and his father grinned. “Now,” John began, “I think the attic could use some organizing.”

“I’m on it.” He stood up from his seat and went around his father’s desk. He hugged his father tightly. “Thank you.”

 

|~~***~~|

 

“I hope you know, I’m angry at you,” Stiles stated, returning to his room. Derek was lying on his bed reading a book he had retrieved from the library.

“You could have avoided this whole mess by telling him sooner. You know, your dad forced me to bet with him when you would say something.”

“And?”

Derek turned a page in his book. “And I bet you would cave by the end of your birthday. And he bet he would catch us before you said anything. Guess he won.”

Stiles jumped onto the bed and peeked over Derek’s shoulder, “Never bet with a Stilinski.”

“Noted. I lost twenty galleons.”

Stiles cracked up now feeling marginally better. He fell against the bed and looked up at the ceiling. “Well, now I don’t feel like we need to hide our relationship. And on the bright side I am now officially sixteen.”

“Congratulations, you’ve got a year to go.” Derek said in his monotone voice.

Stiles flipped over so his face was smushed against the pillow. He turned his head to the side to glare at the Alpha. “Ugh you’re no fun.”

“I’m just trying to stay alive in case your dad murders me.”

“I thought you said he didn’t threaten you.”

Derek set the book on his lap. “Oh the threat was there. Behind a smile and a firm grasp to the shoulder. He wasn’t exactly subtle.”

Stiles chuckled as he pushed his arms to sit up. He shuffled closer to Derek using his knees. “Subtlety isn’t a Stilinski’s forte.” He leaned in close.

“I know. It’s rude brash sarcasm, lame humor, and the inability to shut up.”

Stiles fell backwards on the bed, unable to keep still. “For that, I’m not kissing you for the whole day.”

“Oh no,” Derek mocked a gasp. “How are _you_ going to survive the whole day?”

“You’re right. Get your perky ass over here.”

Derek set his book down and crawled over Stiles. He hovered over him. “I can’t believe I like you.”

“Well too bad you’re stuck with me like a really bad Wizard flu.”

“It’s a good thing I’ve developed a large immunity to you then.”

“Oh largely,” Stiles smirked and grabbed Derek by the back of the neck. Stiles was hoping this makeout session would lead to a nice grinding session, but then he remembered his dad was downstairs. While he might be cool with him having a boyfriend, he wasn’t sure how ok he would be with humping his boyfriend. But surprisingly, Derek pulled back first.

“I actually have something to tell you.” Derek said seriously.

“What?”

“I’m leaving.”

"You mean now?"

"No, I mean for the summer."

 _“What?!”_ Stiles placed his hands firmly on Derek’s chest.

“It’s only for three weeks, till the term starts again.”

“Where are you going?”

“Home.”

“I can’t come with?”

“No, I mean home, home. I’m going to Sherwood Forest with my sisters.”

“Oh.” The weight of the matter made Stiles less angry that Derek was barely telling him this. His hands went lower on Derek’s chest to rest on his abdomen. Derek pressed most of his weight on his arm so he was only lying half on top of Stiles. “When are you leaving?”

“In two days, before the full moon. Laura wanted to have a run.”

“Is Cora even well enough to go on a run?”  
“She still needs to heal, but Laura said the fresh air will do her good.”

“Are you taking Isaac with you?”

“Isaac is staying over at Scott’s.”

“Oh.” He took a long pause as his thumb caressed the soft material of Derek’s shirt. “Have you ever gone back home?”

Derek pulled away and collapsed beside Stiles. His hands went to his own abdomen, pressing the same spot that Stiles had. “This will be the first time after the fire. It’s going to be the anniversary soon, we thought we might go pay a visit.”

Stiles’ face pressed against his sheets. “Where are you going to stay, isn’t the home burned down?” He whispered.

“That’s what we are going to find out. If not, we’ll camp outside.”

“Oh.” Stiles turned away.

It was Derek’s turn to look at Stiles. “What?”

“Nothing.” His fingers drummed against the sheets in a spasm. “I just didn’t want you to go, but I know it’s important...so yeah.”

“Why?”

Stiles bit his lip and then he reminded himself this was Derek. He could trust him. “My mom’s anniversary is coming up too. I didn’t want to spend the day by myself. I usually have Scott, but with the grounding...”

Derek reached over and stopped Stiles’ right hand. “Stiles, you can come with us.”

“No, it’s strictly a Hale thing. I get it. I’ll just be here.”

Stiles could feel Derek’s hard gaze on him. “You don’t spend the day with your dad?”

“We stay out of each other’s hair that day. It’s for the best, we don’t like to reminisce on that day together. Any other day is fine, just not that day.”

“I can have Isaac come over.”

“Please, like I want to spend the day with the Hufflepuff version of Jackson.”

“I think we can both agree that Jackson is a lot worse.”

Stiles took a deep breath and looked at Derek. They were only two inches apart.“Why did you bite him?”

“I can’t even remember why. If the aurors find his body in a ditch well…”

“I’ll help you hide the body from auror hands.”

“Who’s gonna hide it from Lydia hands?”

“Are you kidding? She’ll help us. No one will even know Jackson’s gone.” Stiles laughed, but it got quite too fast for both their likings.

Derek’s eyes searched Stiles’ own. “I feel bad for leaving you here.” Derek whispered.

“Don’t.” Stiles forced a smile and squeezed Derek’s hand in return. “You are going to have a nice camping trip with your sisters, where you will inevitably get bit by a lot of bugs and I will be ok. I always am.” His smile turned feral. “So let’s make the most of these two days.”

Derek blinked once. “Your dad is downstairs.”

“What? Not _that._ ” Stiles pushed off the bed so he was hovering over Derek. “Garden gnome racing. You and me. It’s on.”

“What?”

“Garden gnome racing. Don’t tell me you’ve never played?”

“No.”

“Merlin, I need to teach you, c’mon.” Stiles jumped off the bed and pulled at Derek’s arm.

Derek became dead weight. Stiles grunted, trying to get him up. “Do I have to?” Derek whined, placing an arm over his eyes.

“Yes! C’mon it will be fun.”

“Fine.” Derek stood up quickly and Stiles tumbled onto his ass.

“Get ready to have your ass handed to you Hale!” Stiles shouted from the floor.

Derek grinned and he used his werewolf speed to pick Stiles up and bring them flush together, hips and chests touching. “We’ll see about that.”

 

|~~***~~|

 

“So we don’t really have a spare room. Or a spare bed.”

“That’s fine.” Isaac muttered, setting his bags down in Scott’s room.

“So uh, what do you want to do?” Isaac shrugged awkwardly. “Uh, I have some video games.”

“What’s that?”

“Um it’s easier to explain if I just show you.” Scott said.

Both of them went downstairs and Scott put his and Stiles’ favorite game on.

Isaac quickly picked up the game, but he was obviously not very good at it, so it made winning on Scott’s part a little boring. He tried to be enthusiastic but it wasn’t working very well.

“How’s your arm?” Isaac asked Scott when they both took a break. Both of them were sitting in the kitchen enjoying muggle snacks.

Scott glanced down at the black lines on his left arm. The two lines moved in different directions and he was transfixed with them for a long moment. “Alright. Doesn’t hurt, if that’s what you mean.”

“Looked like it hurt.”

“You try getting burned by fire,” The joke was out of Scott’s mouth before he could stop it.

Isaac smiled though and flipped him off, luckily taking it half-heartedly. It didn’t make Scott feel any less guilty though, knowing he was the only one unharmed by the flames.

“When’s your mom coming?”

“Soon. She said she will try to make it before the full moon comes out.”

“Oh. Do you want to set up?” Isaac asked. “It’s starting to get dark.”

Scott nodded. The two cleaned up the wrappers and boxes littered on the table before heading upstairs to Scott’s room. Scott sat on the bed and watched Isaac take out the chains from his bag.

This had become familiar despite this would only be the third time. It was usually Laura and Derek setting up the chains for him, while Isaac and Cora watched. Isaac climbed on the bed and attached the chains to the wall above Scott’s bed. Scott brought his arms up without prompting. Isaac cuffed his hands. Scott tugged on the chains making sure they were secure.

“Good?” Isaac asked.

“Yeah.”

Isaac laid beside Scott on the bed. He crossed his ankles and placed his arms behind his head. Scott gave him a weird look. “Isaac?”

“Yeah.”

“What are you doing?”

“Oh do you want me to go?” Isaac questioned, obviously not reading the mood.

“Uh,” Scott wasn’t polite enough to tell him no. He was saved from answering when his mother appeared at the doorway.

“Oh, I got here just in time, great.” Melissa said with a hesitant smile.

“Hi mom.”

“Do you boys need anything?”

“No we’re good,” Scott said.

“Some Mars Maltesers would be nice,” Isaac asked without shame.

Melissa smiled and proceeded to head downstairs. When she came back up, she threw a full bag at Isaac. Scott noticed she was carrying a jar of mountain ash. She began spreading it on the ground, “I’ll leave an opening so you two can go to the bathroom.” She informed, continuing the mountain ash line in the hallway.

She returned and Scott avoided her sad gaze. “Are both of you going to be ok?” Both boys nodded. “Well just howl if you need anything. I’ll be downstairs.”

Scott sagged as much as the chains would let him as his mother left.

“You want one?” Isaac asked, holding a small chocolate ball under his nose. Scott gave in and opened his mouth. Isaac was pleased and popped the chocolate into his mouth. Scott chewed the chocolate in thought and just waited for the moon to appear.

It didn’t really take long.

Scott felt the familiar pull. He tried to breathe through it but his wolf side was emerging too quickly for him to hold it down. He sensed his ears taking different shape and his teeth growing larger. When his transformation was complete, he noticed Isaac hadn’t moved an inch. He continued to eat his chocolate without a care.

His wolf side struggled against the bonds and he began to thrash. He could hear the wolf clearly. _Hurt._ It wanted to hurt, but not anyone around him. Only himself.

“You know,” Isaac said, wiping his fingers on the bed sheet. When Scott was more lucid, he would reprimand him. “Maybe you should try looking for a new anchor. Instead of you know, Allison.”

The wolf snarled loudly.

“Oops.” Isaac pulled back a bit. “Was that too brash? Sorry. I was just trying to help.”

“You’re not,” Scott managed to get out.

“Oh.” Isaac got off the bed and went to go sit in one of Scott’s chairs. He plopped his feet on Scott’s desk. “When Derek was helping Boyd and Erica he kept asking them what mattered to them.” Isaac began to speak.

Scott did his best to listen as the wolf continued to growl and trash on the bed.

“Boyd got it fast. His family is most important, but Erica was really hard. She cared about her parents and stuff, but they weren’t enough for her to latch on to. Derek then asked her what memory she had closest to her and all Erica could think about was her illness thing. I forget the name.” He paused to munch on more chocolate. “And then Derek had her focus on that. Which actually made it worse. Erica broke Cora’s bed. Cora was really upset and we’ve all seen her when she’s upset.”

Isaac got up and stretched. “But then somehow Derek figured it out and told her to focus on her thought of staying alive. Again that made it worse, because Erica didn’t want to be alive when she had her illness. It was actually Boyd who told Derek that Erica had a minor bout of depression, but Erica was strong to not let it get to her. Derek came back to her and told Erica to focus on her own strength. And like magic it worked.”

Isaac stepped closer to the bed and went over to the cuffs. Scott panicked. No, he didn’t want to to hurt himself. “So it was simple. Erica’s anchor was herself. Which is kinda cool. Maybe that’s what you need.” Scott heard the click of the cuffs unlatch. “Be your own anchor.” He said nonchalantly.

He was about to panic but what surprised him was that the werewolf brought his hands down and placed them on the bed sheets opposite of his thighs. He took a breath and another. He sat stiff as a board, but he wasn’t doing any harm.

“Wow,” Isaac stepped back. “I didn’t actually think that would work.”

Scott glanced up at Isaac. “Thank you.” He managed to get out.

He felt something fall from his tumulous reckless mind. It was a small anchor dragging against sand, the anchor still didn’t have any weight to keep him still, there was something still missing, but it was slowing him down.

Isaac watched him carefully for any movements and when he didn’t move for fifteen, Isaac crawled back into the bed in his former position.

“Anchors change Scott.” Isaac said. “Mine used to be my father, it’s Derek and the pack now. Don’t be afraid to change anchors, you’re not the same ship. Ships get bigger, they need a heavier anchor.”

Scott took a long breath before responding. “When did you get so insightful?”

“Did it sound insightful? I was just reiterating the nonsense Deaton told me before summer started. Merlin knows what he was talking about.”

Scott smiled. He could feel his canines stretching his lips. He slowly leaned down so he was lying on his bed. He was still stiff, but it was the first time since summer vacation began that Scott did not think of Allison.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Stiles was certain he could entertain himself for three weeks without Derek. Who was he kidding?! He was going to go out of his fucking mind. No more kissing all around the house, no more grinding sessions. This was ridiculous. He was _bored!_

He couldn’t visit the Hales cause they were gone, nor Scott because of the entire grounding stuff. And he wasn’t entirely sure where Erica and Boyd lived, a muggle city most likely and he wasn’t brave enough to venture into the muggle world alone.

He was going insane and it had only been two whole days. He paced back and forth around the living room, trying to think of a way to have some fun. Suddenly, the fireplace lit green. Stiles jumped from the heat prickling in his skin rather than the actual noise.

“Ugh. You need to clean your fireplace.”

“Jackson?” Stiles asked in disbelief, watching the pompous Slytherin wipe dust and ash from his robes. It fell against the floor that Stiles had just cleaned last night. The utter prick.

“Yes.” He had a trunk with him and was heading up the main stairs without prompting. “Is my room still here?”

“Your room?” Stiles chased after him.

“Yeah when I was forced to stay the night when we were kids.”

“Yes. Why?”

“Because I’m going to stay at your place until school starts.” Jackson said, without looking back.

“Again why?”

“Lydia can’t take me to Sweden with her, Allison, and her father. And Danny went to Hawaii. His family has alarms for dark creatures and they won’t be fond of my kind.” Jackson stopped on the third floor to stare at his room. It was right next to Stiles. The room was similar to Stiles’ without the mess and random posters. It was still huge though with a queen sized bed in the center with an attached bathroom. “And the room is still tiny. Great.”

Jackson walked in the room and dropped his trunk onto the bed. He shrugged off his robe and placed it on a coat hanger by the door.

“Wait. Hold on a minute. Who said you could stay here?” Stiles retorted.

“I did. And Merlin, I’m not staying with Lydia’s mom for three whole weeks. That woman is crazier than Lydia.”

Stiles was about to express his displeasure but his father appeared behind him.

“Jackson? I thought I heard your voice.” John said happily.

“Hello Mr. Stilinski.”

John’s eyes went quickly to the trunk. “Are you staying the night?”

“Staying here for three weeks. Your son was kind enough to offer me a place to stay.”

Stiles shot him a glare while John chuckled, “I’m sure he did. Well dinner's almost ready, I’ll see you boys downstairs.”

Stiles waited for his father to be out of earshot. “Why the fuck do you think you can stay here? Go ruin someone else’s summer vacation.”

Jackson stomped to him. “I’m staying here and that’s final.” Stiles glared as Jackson snootily walked over to the bathroom to freshen up. Stiles sighed and headed downstairs.

“I don’t want you two fighting,” John said immediately as he used his wand to place the pots and pans on the kitchen table.

“Who said anything about fighting?” Stiles scoffed.

John gave him a long look. “I mean it Stiles, Jackson is—”

“—Before you say anything, I want you to know he can probably hear us.”

John nodded and continued arranging the table. Jackson came down five minutes later. “How has your summer been Jackson?” John questioned, making polite conversation.

Jackson shrugged. “It’s been fine. I’ve been with Lydia for the most part. I needed a breather.”

John nodded, obviously not fooled. Stiles wasn’t either. He mostly made nonsense conversation with his father while Jackson remained silent. Stiles knew something was immediately wrong, because Jackson was never quiet. He was always brimming with spiteful and snarky comments.

But Merlin, Stiles was not going to ask Jackson what was wrong. He would enjoy it while it lasted.

 

|~~***~~|

 

“This is unfair,” Cora grumbled from her spot on the fallen tree branch. The tree hovered over a bright blue lake. The summer sun beamed hot on all of them and the forest was not providing enough shade so the Hales opted to head to the lake.

Laura popped her head from the water. She pushed her wet hair from her face. “I already said you can’t come in.”

Cora made a face and pointed at Derek, “Why can he?”

Derek appeared under her dangling feet. He gave her a grin. Cora kicked out her foot, hoping it would hit him. Derek swam backwards. “Because my wounds are almost healed.”

Cora rolled her eyes, “It’s not like I can get an infection.”

“No,” Laura swam close to her siblings, “But getting water out of the holes in your skin are going to be a bitch.”

Cora growled and stretched back to lie on the tree branch. “Screw you both.”

Derek splashed water at her before swimming deeper into the lake.

“He seems happy,” Laura commented, floating under her.

“I know, it’s disgusting.” She looked back down at the water. “Are you sure I can’t come in? Isn’t there a spell to coat me in like a massive shield?”

“Not that I know of. Just give us fifteen more minutes, c’mon.”

“Whatever.” Cora turned her head to the sky as she heard her sister swim away. She concentrated on a stray cloud hoping it would move in their direction and provide shade. She wanted to swim. Water seemed a lot more inviting than fire did.

She turned her head and caught a glimpse of Laura trying to drown Derek. Derek spluttered like a fish, but gained momentum and grabbed Laura by the waist to drag her down.

Cora scoffed at their antics. She didn’t even want to be here. Here...being back home. All that resided in that burnt manor were memories she would rather not have, but her brother and sister insisted. They kept saying they needed to honor their family because they never got the chance to before. She didn’t see why it was so important, they burned all around her, they were dead. The dead did not know if they had been honored or not. It was just a way to fodder the fuel for her nightmares.

She hated being the youngest.

But just as promised, Laura and Derek emerged from the water. They climbed out, dripping water all over the ground. “Ready?” Laura asked her.

“I’ve been ready.” She jumped off and only hissed a bit at the weak feeling in her leg. Laura placed a hand on her shoulder to leech the pain, but Cora shrugged her off.

The three hiked back to the burned Hale Manor in silence. Midway, she could hear Laura shriek Derek’s name. Cora turned lazily around and saw a large black wolf parading circles around Laura as she held onto his swimmer shorts. Derek marched to her.

He bent down and growled. Cora growled back. Derek gave a small pounce toward her in attempt to startle her.

“I’m not racing you.” She said.

Derek growled again. She could see his canines. She glanced back at Laura who was obviously unamused. Cora pushed Derek’s head down into the ground and took off at a sprint. Derek chased her in which Laura was left with no choice but to follow.

Derek was at an advantage on all fours so he was able to catch up with Cora and then leave her in the dust. Cora tried her hardest to run her fastest but the pain in her legs wasn’t letting her moving as quickly as she liked. She couldn’t wait to heal and race him at her top speed.

When she finally arrived back at the Hale Manor she caught a glimpse of Derek’s tail entering the burned remains. Their old home had for a better part been nearly been burned down. Only the lower levels remained and even then only one or two rooms were hospitable. All three of them had taken the living room to use as a small campsite and refugee from the sun.  

Cora entered inside and a few seconds later Laura came behind her. Laura went to her bag and began changing into dry clothes. Cora sat on the ashy wooden floor and waited for Laura and Derek, wherever he was, to finish changing.

“Are you going to be able to do the ritual?” Laura asked, pulling her shirt over head.

“I’m going to have to.”

“No, you don’t.” Derek said emerging in a fresh pair of clothes. “You can always go collect the herbs and honey.”

“The point of this trip was for us to honor our family together. I’ll deal with the fire.” Cora said and picked at her shoelace.

She could feel Derek and Laura share a significant look above her.

“Speaking of the ritual we need honey.” Laura tried to redirect. “Might as well start now.”

Cora stood up and nodded. “Let’s go.”

The three siblings headed back outside. The three of them kept their ears open for the sound of buzzing bees. Luckily, they found their first hive within ten minutes. They all stared at the hive teetering teen feet above them.

“So who’s disturbing the bees?” Cora asked. “Because fuck those bees.” Laura and Derek looked hesitant as well. “And is this ritual even going to be valid, we’re supposed to do it right after our family passed away.”

“Deaton said even if it doesn’t work, we are still supposed to do it.” Laura stepped around the tree. She looked for an opening.

“He also said we could use tree oil,” Cora remarked. “Which is a lot better, I rather stick my fist in a tree than a hive any day.”

“No.” Derek said. “He specifically said honey.”

“Then you get it then.”

Laura sighed. “Alright, only one way to settle this.”

Cora and Derek went into battle stances. Laura did as well.

“Ready?” Laura called. “Rock. Paper. Scissors!”

Laura and Cora cried out in glee as they both put rock and Derek placed scissors.

“Screw you both.” Derek grumbled. He pulled out his wand, ready to get the hive down.

“No, Derek.” Laura laughed. “Deaton said you can’t contaminate it with magic. You’ve got to do it manually.”

Derek growled low under his breath but jumped up to the closest branch. He pulled himself up and balanced on the branch, putting one foot over the other. He jumped to the next branch where the bee hive was at.

He bent low and extended his claws to cut down the hive. The last coherent thing Cora saw was Derek grinning. He cut the hive in one careless swipe.

The hive came tumbling down and the bees came swarming out. Laura and Cora shrieked running in opposite directions to avoid the bees.

“Fuck you Derek!” Cora shouted. She looked for Laura who had cast a protective shield around herself. She went behind her sister. “You’re such a sore loser!”

Derek only laughed and Cora finally understood why Derek had been so happy.

Yes, their family was dead. But they were still here and they had a new pack, a new one that was very much alive and kicking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chappie!! 
> 
> Tell me what you thought of Papa Stilinski? Sterek? Allison? Poor puppy Scott? The Hales? Any feedback is greatly appreciated. Really guys, comments make me write a lot faster. And then to anyone curious when sixth year will start...I say about one or two chapters more...it all depends on the Hales. 
> 
> Also I want to give my biggest THANK YOU TO ALL MY READERS! I have finally reached over a 1000+ kudos. I almost cried looking at the number and I am so close to 30,000 hits! So ahhh! Thank you everyone!! 
> 
> And I just want to give thank you for all the get well wishes about my wisdom teeth. I am doing so much better, which means I am in a better mood to write...which might explain how this chapter came out a little fluffy. 
> 
> Follow me on [TUMBLR](twinklingpaopufruit.tumblr.com)


	43. Summer Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Third Part of Summer

When Stiles slept, he did not dream. Everything was blank and dark, but it wasn’t frightening. It was a lot more welcoming than caked red dreams. In reality, taking a Dreamless Sleep Potion felt more like taking an eight hour nap. It was nice because true to the potion’s name he did not dream, bad or good. Although, the only downside to it, Stiles was overly aware of everything around him even when he was asleep. He wasn’t sure he liked the hypervigilance.

So when it was two in the morning and the heat under his skin prickled more than usual, Stiles awoke with a start. His eyes adjusted quickly to Jackson climbing into the bed Scott used when he slept over.

“Jackson? What the fuck?” Stiles grumbled.

“Don’t say a word.” Jackson growled, getting comfortable.

Stiles was much too tired to care so his head came crashing back on his pillow. The last thing he saw was Jackson wiping his eyes, but he was too tired to double check.  

Sleep alluded Stiles again three hours later. He could hear someone crying and then shouting. Stiles sat up slowly, rubbing the side of his head. He looked for the source of the noise and his body jolted when he saw it was coming from Jackson. Drowsiness disintegrated quickly as he saw Jackson wolfed out in his sleep.

Stiles shot out of bed and dashed to Jackson’s side.

“Jackson.”  

Jackson was throwing his weight back and forth on the bed. His left claw was lodged in the mattress, pulling at the stitches. His other arm was under the sheets, but there was a dark red stain on the blankets, giving Stiles enough information.

“Jackson!” Stiles tried again. He pulled at the sheets and fought a gag as he saw Jackson’s claws digging into a wound on his thigh.

Stiles climbed on top of Jackson to remove his hand, but Jackson’s werewolf strength was proving difficult. Stiles heard footsteps. His head snapped to the doorway. His father came in with panic in his eyes and his wand drawn. Stiles must have sent a silent plea, because John tucked his wand away.

“What’s wrong?” John asked, stepping quickly into the room. He helped Stiles hold Jackson down, who was now thrashing everywhere.

“He doesn’t have control,” Stiles grunted.

Stiles really didn’t want to use his powers, but the blood now drenching Stiles’ thigh was making Stiles reconsider. Jackson’s arm let go of the mattress and rose as if ready to strike his father. Stiles felt the heat build in his belly. _**“Jackson, wake up,”**_ Stiles ordered.

Jackson’s eyes flew open, but his yellow eyes were glazed. His father leaned back, shocked from seeing Stiles’ powers for the first time. _**“Calm down.”**_

Jackson took a shaky breath but he stopped moving altogether. Stiles slowly climbed off Jackson. Jackson took another breath.

“Jackson?” Stiles asked hesitantly.

The gaze from Jackson’s eyes faded. He immediately pushed Stiles and jumped out of bed, rushing out the room.

 

It took John a while to move as he stared at his son. The red smoke seeped from his eyes and gently cascaded above his cheekbones. He wanted to reach out but Stiles took a deep breath and then another. His eyes sucked up the smoke until John was left kneeling in front of his son. His brown-gold eyes blinked rapidly.

“Are you ok?” John questioned softly.

Stiles nodded. He stood up and John noticed beads of sweat behind Stiles’ neck. It rolled down and collected at the center of his back where there was a small sweat stain forming. Stiles rolled his neck and then looked back at his dad. “Sorry you had to see that.”

“No, it’s fine. You got Jackson to wake up.” John stood slowly, cautious with his son’s strange behavior. “Can you always control them like that?

“I couldn’t always but now I can. I don’t use it on them often. It’s an invasion of their free will and it feels to much like an unforgivable to my liking.”

John licked his lips. “I better go check on Jackson, see where he went off to.”

“He’s still in the house,” His son said confidently. “He’s on the first floor bathroom behind the main staircase.” He met his son’s eyes. “I can feel the werewolves’ locations at all times.” He finished awkwardly.

John didn’t know what to say other than tell Stiles to go back to bed. He hovered in the doorway, watching Stiles toss and turn to find his comfortable spot. He gave one long sigh and headed downstairs to find the Whittemore boy.

Just as Stiles said, John found Jackson in the bathroom. A stream of light from under the door touched his bare toes. He wiggled them in thought of how to approach the situation. His first instinct was to handle it like an overwhelmed dangerous criminal, but that’s not what Jackson was. He decided to just wing it.

He knocked twice.

“Fuck off Stilinski.”

John chuckled, “Now, I’m sure that was meant for my son and not me.” There was silence on the other side. John tried again, “Jackson, do you care to open the door?” John pressed his ear against the door and couldn’t hear anything. “All right, Jackson, you leave me no choice. _Alohomora.”_

The door clicked. John pushed the door slowly. He could see Jackson scramble from his position on the floor to stand. He watched with sadness as Jackson wiped his tears and tried to meld into the corner to avoid being seen.

“Jackson.” John whispered, shutting the door behind him. Jackson twitched at the noise, which must have been loud to his ears. “What happened?”

“Nothing. Now go.”

“You see I can’t do that. If you are going to be staying in my home, you have to follow what I say.”

“Or what?” Jackson spat. “You’ll kick me out.”

“No. I’m not cruel like your uncle.” Jackson flinched at the mention of him. “Is that what’s been bothering you?”

Jackson spun quickly. His eyes were irritated and wet but John couldn’t concentrate on them when Jackson shouted, “What the fuck do you think?!”

John closed the toilet lid and sat down. His hands twirled his wand in front of him. “I think your uncle is ignorant.”

“He’s a pureblood,” Jackson said a little more quietly. He still didn’t meet John’s eyes.

“And so am I, but I’m not threatening to throw you in the cellar, now am I? Your uncle, what he did. Stripping you of your status is cowardly of him. He should have understood that you are the same boy.”

“But he doesn’t. And it’s too late now. I’m not a Whittemore anymore. I’m a blood traitor, who won’t be able to make anything of himself, who won’t be able to get a job, who’s a werewolf. Fuck.” Jackson slid down the wall until he sat with his legs curled lazily into his chest.

“Is that what you’ve been having nightmares about?”

Jackson scoffed.“Oh c’mon Mr. Stilinski. Like I’m telling you.”

“I can always go get Stiles, if you need someone to talk—yeah I didn’t think so either, but you need someone to talk to Jackson. This, you were hurting yourself.” He pointed to Jackson’s leg. It wasn’t bleeding anymore but Jackson’s pant leg was a wine red.

Jackson’s eyes fell to it, “Fuck. I got these in Greece.”

“Jackson,” John said sternly.

The boy groaned. “I dreamed of my uncle locking me away,” Jackson spat. His jaw clenched and he looked toward the sink. “Of hurting me. Torturing me. Chaining me to me a post and burning me alive.”

John held his breath.

“I’ve dreamed of him getting my best friend and killing him the same way because he’s my friend.” Jackson’s body shook. Tears welled in his eyes and John leaned back to take in the sight. This was the first time he had ever seen this proud boy openly vulnerable. “I’ve dreamed,” His voice cracked, “Of him finding out what Lydia is and hunting her down to kill her. He hates anything dark. He hated my father. He hates me.” His hands came up to clutch his head. He pressed his forehead into his knees. It would have been at this point, John would have stood and hugged the boy, but this wasn’t Stiles. So he stayed seated, contemplating that Jackson’s father was a dark creature. John had his suspicions about it, but never really voiced them aloud. “And now I’ve let my father’s legacy tarnish. After my uncle died, I was going to announce myself as the first openly pureblood werewolf. I was going to make my father proud. And I can’t do that anymore. I’m not a Whittemore. I’m not anything!”

John tried not to let the silence fester for too long. “You’re Margret Miller’s and Gordon Whittemore’s son.” John said, leaning forward. “And just like your parents, you are way too loud for your own good. You are a little pretentious and rude but you are great just like them. You have a voice worth listening to and you are strong just like them. You want to make them proud? Fight until the last breath. Your uncle’s decision is only a small little crack on your road. It’s not the real battle that you’ve been having nightmares about.” John sighed. “You want to be an influential mark on society? Then be _it._ ”

Jackson slowly looked up. “You say it like it’s easy.”

“It’s not. The world will be against you because you have chosen a life out of pureblood norms. And I know what that feels like. But that is not to say they will not accept you eventually, they need to see you fight. So will you?”

Jackson caught his gaze. “I don’t know.”

John stood up and extended a hand. “That is an acceptable answer.”

There was a silence and tightness in the air. Jackson’s face returned to its pinched expression. He stood on his own two feet without John’s guidance. Jackson awkwardly nodded and left the bathroom.

...And that was the end of John’s parenting for the day.

He gave Jackson a few moments before heading out of the bathroom as well.

As he went back to his own bedroom, he spotted Jackson returning to Stiles’ room. He peeked curiously and saw Jackson climbing into his son’s bed, with the excuse his mattress was covered in blood. Stiles complained, but scooted over nonetheless.

John shut the door.

 

|~~***~~|

 

The sun drove high, then higher still. Stiles throat grew dry and hot, scratched with the burning dust.

“Ha I win, Stilinski!” Jackson shouted, waving his garden gnome in the air.

Stiles pouted, dropping his own garden gnome. The poor wrinkled thing scurried off to hide in the bushes. “No way! You cheated. I was totally winning.”

“Yeah,” Jackson approached, with his gnome tucked under his arm. “Before you ate dirt.”

“You tripped me!” Stiles screeched.

“How could I trip you when I was behind you?”

“You used werewolf speed.”

Jackson scoffed. “You’re ridiculous. I won.” He dropped the gnome...right on Stiles’ foot. The weight wasn’t a problem but rather its teeth lodging onto Stiles’ calf. Stiles cursed and shouted obscenities at the gnome and Jackson. When he kicked it off, it went to follow it’s companion.

“Ugh, you're an asshole.” He sat down and rubbed at his leg, marginally happy that the little fucker didn’t break skin.

“Yeah tell me something new.”

Stiles looked up. “At least you’re aware of it and you’re not like the assholes that go around proclaiming they’re saints deserving to be part of Merlin’s Order.”

“But I am deserving.”

“Oh my fucking—” He held his urge to hex Jackson and instead leaned back on his arms. “You know this game isn’t fun when nearly all your friends are super enhanced werewolves.” He spat crankily.

“I didn’t really make any special effort,” Jackson said with a shallow shrug. “Not my fault you’re skittish and fragile.”   
Stiles narrowed his eyes and stood. “Not my fault you decided to cheat instead of actually winning.”

Jackson rolled his eyes. “Whatever. We both know I would have won regardless.” He rubbed his nose and then sneezed.

“Ew.” Stiles retreated.

“What?”

“What if your sneeze gets your pretty on me?”

Jackson shoved him and then headed inside the Stilinski home. Stiles trailed behind him. Stiles took the lead and went into the kitchen. He grabbed a cold bottle of apple juice but as he was about to take a drink, Jackson stole it from his hand. Jackson leaned against the island as he drank from it. Stiles sighed exasperatedly and reached for another drink. He cursed Jackson under his breath as that was the last apple juice. He reached for the grape, which gross. Nobody liked grape.

An awkward silence settled over the two Slytherins.

Stiles had suggested gnome racing when he woke up to Jackson in his bed. Honestly, he pitied Jackson, but he also felt bad the way he had treated him the day before. He had forgotten the situation with Jackson’s uncle and was now homeless.

Stiles was just trying to help by taking Jackson’s mind off it.

But it seemed like Jackson didn’t want anything to do with him. He finished his juice and then left the kitchen without another word. Stiles could feel Jackson entering the library.

Well that settled it then, Stiles headed to his own room.

He didn’t see Jackson again until dinner. Jackson talked with his father only if his father initiated the conversation, but again Jackson still carried around that stand-offish vibe.

When it was time for bed, Jackson climbed into Scott’s bed again.

“What are you—” Stiles tried to ask.

“Shut up.” Jackson replied.

Stiles had a lot of things to say but he didn’t want to waste his breath on the temperamental Slytherin. For once, he kept his mouth shut and went to sleep.  

 

|~~***~~|

 

Scott wasn’t sure what his mother had expected of them. She had complained that he and Isaac could not waste away their last few days of summer vacation just sitting around the house and playing videogames. Scott disagreed with her, but glancing over at Isaac, who was looking more bored every day, changed his mind. Melissa gave both of them muggle money and told them to head to the theme park.

So here was Scott with Isaac on a one hour train ride to Chessington World of Adventures Resort. Isaac glanced out the window lazily and so did Scott. Scott brought his arms out to rest against the window. As trees and homes passed by, Scott was left only with his thoughts. And those thoughts led to one thing. Allison. God, he missed her. He wanted to send her a letter just to see how she was doing, but she had told him she wanted nothing of the sorts. Plus, with Isaac being the curious puppy he was, didn’t leave Scott enough time to sit down and write a letter.

His eyes fell away from the window when he heard shushing and then giggling beside him. His eyes glanced over to the couple a seat in front of them. The couple was about their age. The boy was tickling the girl’s sides and she was trying to fight him off with her own wandering hands. Occasionally, the two would sneak a quick peck on the cheek or lips.

Scott gave an exasperated sigh and thunked his head against the window.

“Hey if you want to make out too we can,” Isaac joked, sitting across from him.

Scott knew he was joking. At least, he hoped Isaac was joking. But the comment startled Scott, that he didn’t know what to say back.

“Uh no thanks Isaac.” Scott said blandly.

Isaac leaned forward until their knees were touching. His hands came out and reached for Scott’s sides. “Oh c’mon. It will be fun.” He began to tickle him.

Scott snorted loudly. “Isaac, stop.” He tried to push the Hufflepuff away.

Isaac stood and practically sat in his lap as he tried to wrestle Scott into the seat. Scott began to laugh loudly and tried to shove Isaac. Ahead of them, he could hear the couple stop and the girl make a comment that she didn’t appreciate being mocked. For some reason that made Scott laugh louder. He grabbed Isaac by the waist and both of them fell on Isaac’s original seat. The two continued to wrestle back and forth.

“Hey!”

The two froze in their weird tangled position. They looked to their left where the boy with his girlfriend called them.

“Are you making fun of us?” The teen nearly shouted.

Scott glanced at Isaac. “Uh no.” He answered.

Scott was too late to pull Isaac’s temperamental wolf side from emerging. “And what if we are?” Isaac stood up, shoulders back with his chest puffed out. Scott noticed it was a very Derek stance.

“Then I’m going to knock you on your ass.”

Isaac rolled up the sleeves of his cardigan, which wasn’t as threatening as Isaac might have thought it was. “I would like to see you try.”

The teen stood up and shockingly he was a lot taller than Isaac and a lot wider.

_“Arriving at Chessington South, Platform 11.”_

Scott scrambled to stand. He grabbed Isaac by the forearm and dragged him out before anything could be done.

“What the hell? I could have taken him.”

“No werewolf powers with muggles.”

“Ugh Holy Helga, you’re like Derek.”

Scott was not positive if that was an insult or compliment. “Whatever, c’mon.” The two exited the platform and Scott briefly glanced at Isaac as they arrived at their destination. Isaac’s eyes and mouth opened wide like a child. He scanned everything around him and nearly tripped over a few children as Scott ushered him in the direction of the ticket booth.

“What is this place?” Isaac asked in awe.

“An amusement park. People come here to have fun. There’s rides, food, a zoo and a small aquarium.”

“Muggles do this for fun?”

The person at the ticket booth gave Isaac a strange look. “Um yeah. Two tickets please.”

Scott handed the money and gave Isaac his ticket. “Try not to use the word muggle out loud.”

“Got it.”

They walked into the amusement park and Isaac was floored again. “This place is huge.”

Scott nodded unable to keep the smile off his face as Isaac reacted with more enthusiasm than the little kids around them.

“Do you want to choose where to go?” Scott asked him.

“I don’t know this place though.”

“You don’t need to.” Scott led him over to a giant compass in the middle of the floor of the courtyard. He placed Isaac in the middle and let him choose. Isaac looked down at his feet, “Forbidden Kingdom, Pirate’s Cove, Wild Asia, Transylvania...Transylvania?” Isaac leaned in close to him to whisper, “Muggles have portkeys?”

“No that’s what the section of the theme park is called. Just choose anywhere and we’ll head in that direction.”

Isaac did a 360 degree turn. Scott couldn’t help but smile.

“Oh. I want to go to Transylvania.”

“K.”

Scott led him forward. It took them a while to get there mainly because Isaac kept pointing at things and asking what they were. Scott didn’t mind, especially since Isaac was a lot easier to manage in muggle territory than Stiles. who disregarded every rule and ran rampant.

When they reached the ominous looking gate that had the words Transylvania, Isaac froze in fear. It took Scott a few moments to realize Isaac wasn’t walking beside him. He walked back to the Hufflepuff and looked up.

“Muggles go on that death trap?” Isaac shouted loudly.

His voice was drowned out as a group of teenagers and children screamed above them on the rollercoaster.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Some think it’s fun.”

“Do you think so?”

Scott’s belly churned a bit as he saw the rollercoaster make a loop. “I don’t really like them.”

That was putting it mildly. Scott wasn’t fond of roller coasters at all. When he had come here with Stiles during their summer before third year, Stiles wanted to go on every scary ride there was. Stiles pulled Scott to join him on one of the roller coasters, the Vampire to be exact, and Scott had thrown up all over his shoes. His mother had discreetly cleaned it using her wand in one of the bathrooms. Stiles apologized and didn’t make him go on anymore. Scott being Scott, felt bad and told him he would watch from the sidelines as Stiles went on the rides with his mom.

Standing in front of the roller coasters again though, Scott was met with the same paranoia.

It was ridiculous, he was a lot bigger and taller. Plus, if he were to fall his body would most likely heal. But seeing the carts swirl and turn in sharp corners made Scott’s stomach uneasy. He was happy that Isaac seemed to be in the same boat.

“We don’t have to go on them. There’s other rides.” Scott said. He directed him to one of the children rides.

The adults and a few of the children gave them weird looks as they waited in line. Although, that might have been because Isaac kept gawking at every little thing that moved. Scott led him through a dark tunnel with bright neon lights until they were directed by the staff to enter the cylindrical bubbles floating on water. Despite both of them being werewolves, they didn’t have the finesse to enter without tripping over each other. The small little boat rocked until they sat still.

Once settled, the ride began to move. It was a very simple ride that only had colorful displays and music. Scott always enjoyed these and he was happy last time he came here with Stiles, his best friend joined him, even though Stiles found them boring. Isaac on the other hand, he seemed like an excitable puppy. With Isaac’s tall and lanky frame, he stretched from his position and tried to touch one of the machines. Their ride nearly tipped over. Scott grabbed him by the waist to pull him down.

“Isaac, you are going to get us kicked out!”

Isaac apologized. But he still couldn’t stop bouncing. He began to shout as up ahead they saw a sign that said BATHTIME. Scott decided to join him and both of them got into an unannounced match of who could yell louder.

When they went under the sign, fountains of water shot at them from all sides. Both shrieked a little more high pitched than they meant to. When Scott opened his eyes, he could see several fountains shooting water into the air in a rainbow of technicolor. He glanced at Isaac. The dark room only provided small flickers of light and each shadow that passed across Isaac's face illuminated his werewolf eyes. He knew he was probably in the same situation.

“I didn’t expect to get that soaked,” Scott said when they got off there.

“Merlin! That was awesome! What else is there!”

Scott laughed. There was something strange fluttering in his chest by hanging out with Isaac. Something bringing them closer together. Sure the two were friends, but this felt like the type of behavior he would engage in with Stiles and maybe Cora. It was enlightening knowing there was one other person willing to put up with his moods and even more, try to make them better.

Scott looked around the park and remembered that Isaac was fond of animals. “There’s a zoo, c’mon.” Scott didn’t know what took over him but he went at a sprint. Isaac laughed and chased after him. He could hear a staff member lazily tell them there was no running, but the staff didn’t really seem to care.

As expected, Isac gawked at all the creatures. He wanted to go pet them, but Scott told him it wasn’t allowed.

By midday, Scott had forgotten why he was in a bad mood. He went on bumper cars with Isaac, where they both had been viciously bullied by a group of eight year old boys. Scott knew it was wrong to laugh when the ride was over and Isaac flashed his eyes and teeth at the kids.

The night came closer and both of them didn’t want to leave. Both of them were enjoying an ice cream cone, thinking of what to do next.

“Hey what’s that?” Isaac pointed.

Scott saw a boat fall from a large height and crash into water. “Oh that’s Dragon Falls.”

“Can we go on it?”

“I thought you didn’t want to go on the scary rides.”

“I don’t, but look. That girl is like four and she’s on it. How bad can it be?”

Scott let Isaac drag him to the ride. As they got closer, both of them were regretting their decision.

"Oh Merlin it's too late to back out, isn't?" Isaac asked as heard the screams of the other riders make the big drop.

"Yup." Scott said stiffly. "We passed the last exit sign five minutes ago."

"Why did you let me talk you into this?"

"Cause you had to point at the little girl."

Isaac made a face. "Screw all you Muggles."

“How many?” The staff member asked.

“Two.” Scott said.

Isaac went first and then Scott sat in between Isaac’s spread legs, seeing as Isaac was taller than him.

“Uh Scott?” Isaac asked as the ride began to move.

“Yeah.”

“Shouldn’t there be like, I don’t know, a belt?"

“Ah crap.”

Both of them tensed up. Scott felt Isaac’s arms go around his waist as they did the first drop within the first minute of the ride.

“Fuck,” Isaac repeated into his neck like a mantra.

Scott took a deep breath and decided to put on his Gryffindor mask. He turned his head and he found Isaac’s cheek pressed against his. “Look where about to get eaten by a dragon!”

Isaac hesitantly opened his eyes at the giant mechanical creature. The tunnel was dark at night but quickly they passed through the dragon. “Now where getting pooped by a dragon.”

Isaac laughed but his tight hold didn’t cease. Scott rested his arms on Isaac’s.

He began to sing to get both their minds off it, "Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts Teach us something please.”

Isaac sung along with him. “Whether we be old and bald, Or young with scabby knees,” Their voices echoed in the tunnel.

Their voices got louder as they approach the big drop. Scott felt Isaac’s claws retract and then suddenly, the boat tipped and they came sliding down the drop. Both shrieked.

When the ride was over, they were still holding onto each other.

"That. That wasn't that bad," Isaac commented, although he still hadn't let go.

"Yeah." Scott commented.

They got off the ride on shaky legs.

"Sirs?" A lady from a booth asked. The two teens looked at her. "Would you like to see your picture?"

Both of them rushed over. Isaac marveled at the screen where he and Scott were clutching to each other madly.

"Why isn't it moving?" Isaac asked softly.

"Muggle pictures don't move."

Isaac pouted, but even if the picture didn't move, Scott still loved it. He took out his wallet and paid the lady for the picture. She handed them an envelope.

"C'mon we better go before we miss the last train."

Scott guided Isaac back to the train, but they quickly realized that many people from the theme park were taking the train back home. Isaac and Scott sat close together.

Scott couldn’t really look out the window anymore. The night sky masked the scenery in a beautiful shadow. Scott felt his eyes getting droopy and without meaning to he leaned his head against Isaac.

Isaac went stiff as a board. Scott immediately regretted his decision. He was so used to clinging to people mainly because Stiles was the same way. While Isaac could initiate contact in that brotherly way by shoving you across a room, Scott forgot that Isaac wasn’t very intimate with touch.

“Sorry,” Scott muttered, sitting up straight. He awkwardly yanked down his shirt.

“It’s ok.” Isaac whispered.

Scott didn’t attempt to do the motion again.

After a moment of silence, Isaac spoke. He kept his gaze to the floor. “Everyone keeps talking about how much it hurt to get burned by fire and how much their wounds hurt after it but I don’t really notice it. Sometimes it aches but it doesn’t hurt. I’ve had much worse than this, believe it or not.”

“What do you mean?” Scott asked softly.

Isaac looked around. Most of the patrons were asleep. He sighed before rolling up his shirt up to his chest. Scott let out a tiny gasp. He wanted to reach forward. He wanted to comfort him, take the pain away.

Scott could see the scars from the fire which were covered in bandages, but the rest of his body was matted with scars and random black patches.

“The bite stopped me from getting any more wounds but I still have the scars from all the dark curses my dad cast at me. They weren’t curses meant to kill you but they hurt more than the fire. The fire was from hunters who wanted to kill me because of what I was. These scars are from my father who wanted to hurt me for being his son.” He pulled down his shirt, “You can guess why they hurt more.”

Scott wasn’t sure what to say to Isaac. What can you say to someone who had been abused their whole childhood? Merlin, he felt so stupid and childish now. Losing his anchor because his girlfriend broke up with him when here was Isaac still strong after what he had been through.

Isaac sighed and Scott met his eyes. “Isaac—”

“So what I’m trying to say is that I’m not rejecting you. I don’t want anyone to reject you anymore. I’m just trying to explain why I don’t like to be touched. I can...just give me a minute.” Scott wanted to cry and laugh. How could Isaac be thinking of him?

Isaac took a deep breath and then slouched down and rested his head against Scott’s shoulder. Scott wiped at his eyes and then slowly rested his own head on Isaac’s head of curls.

 

|~~***~~|

 

It had been a few days since Jackson had his last nightmare in Stiles’ room. Unlike last time, Stiles was a lot more prepared. He had been sitting on his bed, reading a book in the middle of the night when Jackson started screaming. Stiles book flew from his hands in shock and he tumbled out of bed. His head snapped to his sleeping companion.

“Again, seriously.” Stiles grumbled, under his breath.

He crawled to the other side of the room, mainly out of laziness. He set his arms on the bed and began shaking Jackson before it could get any worse.

Jackson roused from his sleep quickly. His face pinched in annoyance when he saw Stiles hovering over him.

“What the hell are you doing in my bed?” Jackson asked annoyed.

“Oh, is that question only ok when you ask it? Cause you were in my bed a few days ago.”

Jackson made a face and sat up. The blankets pooled around his waist. Stiles eyes fell to Jackson’s rumpled shirt. His bandages were soaked red across his abdomen. Jackson noticed and quickly tugged his shirt down.

“Dude.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Have you been treating your wounds?”

“Yeah, who do you think I am?”

“An idiot, a pretentious douchewad, a git. Hey you walked into that one.” Stiles paused. “Have you been using the bath?” Jackson’s silence was answer enough. “Oh Great Salazar please help me.”

Stiles stood. He went over to his bathroom and began filling the large tub. He went to the cabinets and began searching for the potions Melissa had provided.

“Jackson, get your ass in here.”

“You are not bathing me.” Jackson’s jaw clenched. He leaned against the doorway.

“Fuck that shit. I don’t want my hands anywhere near your gross naked body.”

“Oh c’mon Stiles, we both know. I have _more_ than a nice body.”

Stiles flushed and went back to pouring the cleaning solutions into the bath. “Shut up.”

Jackson snickered, but began to strip. Stiles averted his eyes.

“Ok, so the washcloth is there. Stay in the tub for twenty minutes. And then salve is on the sink counter. If you are drowning, call. I’ll come back to retrieve your dead body.”

“I’ll drown you, if you don’t leave.”

Stiles flipped him a gesture and shut the bathroom door. He went back to find his dropped book.

After a good half hour, Stiles heard something clatter in the bathroom. His book once more clattered to the ground. Stiles groaned. He was never going to find out why Pegasus could only fly while drunk. Stiles stood and didn’t even bother to knock, because hey this was his bathroom.

He saw Jackson naked struggling to apply the healing salve to his back. Stiles’ eye twitched. Without hesitation however, Stiles strode into the bathroom confidently.

“Get the fuck out Stiles.”

“I’ll get the fuck out when you do. Now where the hell are the towels?” He threw a fluffy white one in Jackson’s lap. “Alright, let’s go.” Jackson glared, but wrapped the towel around his waist.

The two headed into Stiles’ room. Stiles was going to direct him to the spare bed, but Jackson the asshole he was, decided to drip water all over Stiles’ sheets. He made a show of getting comfortable in the middle of the bed, but it was really an excuse to make Stiles’ bed unsleepable.  

Stiles wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. He went to his bed and told Jackson to flip onto his stomach. Jackson did it without complaint and Stiles began to apply the treatment all over Jackson’s back.

The wounds were as bad as Derek’s during the beginning of the summer, which meant that Jackson had been a lot worse off then. Which also meant, that Lydia had been doing this for Jackson and since Jackson had arrived in the Stilinski household, he didn’t have anyone to apply the treatment in the places he couldn’t reach.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you.” Stiles answered, smoothing the salve on Jackson’s upper back first.

“How do you know how to do this?” Jackson said instead.

“I did this for Derek.”

Jackson got quiet. He rested his chin under his arms as Stiles’s hands went lower. It wasn’t anything sexual as Stiles hands dipped a bit under the towel. Jackson felt more like his patient than anything. He made Jackson sit up and then Stiles applied the salve to Jackson’s chest and stomach. He didn’t need to, but Jackson’s pliant nature told Stiles easily enough that Jackson didn’t mind.

Stiles wiped his hands on Jackson’s towel. Jackson made a face, but Stiles merely glared.

He grabbed the bandages and told Jackson to extend his arms out as Stiles wrapped it around his torso.

“Better?”

“Yeah.”

Jackson moved and then began to apply it to his legs. Stiles sat next to him and went to go retrieve his book. It took Jackson a good fifteen minutes to finish the rest, and by then Stiles was already getting sleepy. He set his book down and went to the bathroom, remembering to take his Dreamless Sleep Potion.

As Stiles held the dropper under his tongue, Jackson emerged in the bathroom to put his stuff away.

“You fucking cheater!”

Stiles rolled his eyes but took his dosage. He closed the vial and set it behind the mirror cabinet with force.

“Why is that cheating?”

“Because that actually has an effect on you.”

Stiles headed back to his room with Jackson on his tail. “And that’s my fault how?”

“Cause I have to suffer through stupid nightmares while you just knock out for eight hours.”

Stiles climbed into his bed. “It’s not as nice as you think. I always have a dry mouth in the morning and I’m sometimes nauseous.”

Jackson’s face scrunched. He went over to Stiles bed and went to lay beside him. Stiles mouth opened wide and his hands flailed at his sides, because of course, even if Jackson was injured, he would still think he owned everything he touched.

“What are you doing?” Stiles asked angrily.

“Going back to sleep. I suggest you try to do the same.”

“Go sleep in Scott’s bed!”

“This thing is massive and more comfy than that stupid cot. Just roll over to the other side.”

“Fuck that shit.”

“Then you go sleep in Scott’s bed.”

“This is my bed!” Stiles spluttered again. “What if you kill me in my sleep?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Stiles.” Jackson sighed and rolled his eyes. He scooted further under the blankets and stole one of Stiles’ pillow, hugging it to his face. Jackson yawned, “Good night.”

Stiles glared and then his eyes softened. “What are you dreaming about?” Stiles asked, when he realized that Jackson was not leaving anytime soon.

“Like I’m telling you.”

“If you tell me yours, I’ll tell you mine.”

“Oh are you using that line? Might as well whip out our dicks while we’re at it.”

Stiles groaned loudly and shoved his palms into his eyes. “You are three seconds away from me physically kicking you out of this bed.”

“I like to see you try.”

“I’m not the one whose injured buddy.”

“I am not your buddy.”

“Merlin, you have that right. Now shush. I’m going to bed.” Stiles turned away from Jackson. When he felt that sleep was about to take him for good, Jackson spoke. “Stiles?”

“What?” Stiles spat.

“Why doesn’t your dad hate werewolves?”

Stiles flipped back to face Jackson, confused by the random question. He looked at Jackson’s back instead.

“Your mom hated them,” Jackson continued. “A lot. But your dad doesn’t and he’s the pureblood, why?”

Stiles licked his lips, “I actually don’t know. My dad is just more accepting, I guess.” Stiles braced his body in case he got hit as he said, “You’ve been dreaming about your uncle.”

“Yeah.”

“He’s an asshole for what he did to you.” Jackson didn’t say anything in response to that. “Jackson?”

“What?”

“If you want, my dad and I wouldn't mind if you lived with us.”

Jackson faced him, “As if I would want to live with you.” He whispered.

“You’re welcome Jackson.” Stiles smiled sarcastically. He thought Jackson was going to flip over and then go to sleep, but instead Jackson leaned slightly in. His eyes were downcast though.

“Thank you for letting me sleep here.” He whispered, “I’ve only been able to sleep here.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ve helped protected the pack so far. I feel...safe.”

If Stiles did not have a reason for taking Dreamless Sleep Potion, he would have laughed in Jackson’s face at his open admission. But he was so Stiles scoffed. “You shouldn’t.”

“Lydia told me what you did.”

“That I almost killed Derek?”

“But it wasn’t you, you fucking idiot.”

“But I remember it,” Stiles bit down hard on his lip to stop himself from crying. He hated crying in front of Jackson. Ever since they were little, each time Stiles cried, Jackson would make fun of him. One never cried in front of a Slytherin, it was just blackmail.

Stiles sucked in a breath as he felt Jackson pull him into a hug, and then he remembered the only time Jackson did not make fun of him was when Stiles’ mother had died.

Jackson had done this exact thing the day she died. His father dropped him off with the Whittemore's while he dealt with the Amiculum. A nine-year-old Jackson had let him sleep in his bed and held him while cried. And during the funeral, Jackson had held his hand in comfort.

The thought of his mother’s anniversary nearing, all this werewolf nonsense, his magic, made Stiles unable to hold back the sobs. Jackson didn’t say anything, he just pulled him in closer. His hand clutched to his waist and the other rested at the back of his head. Stiles tucked his face into Jackson’s chest.

Merlin, he was so tired.

And that’s how Stiles and Jackson fell asleep.

In the morning, both pretended they did not just cuddle to bed. They never actually talked about it ever again. But every night, Jackson and Stiles would sleep in the same bed, with a respectable two feet distance of course, and let every stress seep away.

 

|~~***~~|

 

The two nearly knocked each other’s heads as they reached for the two owls by the kitchen window. Jackson’s hand was in his face and somehow Stiles had his foot in Jackson’s waist. Their tumble to the ground and the profanities that followed startled the two owls by the window. The owls took flight and proceeded to knock things around the kitchen. Jackson and Stiles ducked as one of the owls was extremely hostile. They tried to seek cover, but the owls were much too ruffled to be calmed.

“This your fault!” Jackson shouted.

“You’re the one who pushed me going down the stairs.”

“You tripped.”

“That excuse is starting to get old. Just fuck!” An owl flew close by his face. “Can’t you growl or something?”

Jackson licked his lips and then loudly roared. The owls cowered in fright and perched on the table.

“Finally.” Stiles mumbled. He reached for the owls and reached for the letters he had been waiting for this entire summer. As soon as the letters were free of the owls, the two birds took off again.

Stiles tossed two letters at Jackson.

“Ready?” Stiles asked.

Jackson nodded.

Neither spoke as they slit open and unfolded the parchment inside.

**ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL RESULTS**

__**Pass Grades**  
Outstanding (O)  
Exceeds Expectations (E)  
Acceptable (A)

 __ **Fail Grades**  
Poor (P)  
Dreadful (D)  
Troll (T)

_Astronomy (E)_  
_Arithmancy (O)_  
_Ancient Runes (O)_  
_Charms (O)_  
_Defense Against the Dark Arts (E)_  
_Herbology (E)_  
_History of Magic (E)_  
_Potions (E)  
_ _Transfiguration (O)_

Stiles read the parchment through several times, his breath becoming easier with each reading. He passed DADA. He had passed DADA! He had passed all his fucking classes!

He looked up at Jackson. Jackson had his back to him and his head bent.

“Here—swap,” Stiles announced. He couldn’t deny he enjoyed being competitive with Jackson.

Jackson looked smug. Stiles glanced at his grades.  

_**Jackson Gordon Whittemore has achieved:** _

_Astronomy (O)_   
_Arithmancy (E)_  
_Charms (O)_  
__Defense Against the Dark Arts (E)  
Herbology (E)  
__History of Magic (O)  
Muggle Studies (E)  
_Potions (E)_  
__ Transfiguration (E)

“What?” Jackson shouted. “Fuck this!”

“Ha! I got one more ‘Outstanding’ than you!” Stiles cheered.

“Whatever,” Jackson yanked the parchment from Stiles’ hands. “I at least passed DADA without having to do a patronus.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, “At least I can do a patronus.”

Jackson flipped him off and then looked around the pantry to make breakfast. Stiles made Jackson sit down remembering the last time Jackson had tried to cook something he nearly set the kitchen on fire. It was lucky for them that Stiles’ dad had been home.

Stiles made them both sausages and eggs. As he gave Jackson his plate, Stiles examined his grades again. There was a sinking knot as he looked at the ‘O’ for Transfiguration. He remembered what Morrell had told him about becoming a member of AMULET. He wanted to but knowing that Blake had been a part of it let a nasty taste in his mouth as he chewed on his eggs.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Stiles cursed when a pillow hit him on the head. He turned to check the time. It was way too early for this. He glared at Jackson. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Get up.”

“Ugh it’s seven o’clock.”

“Get the fuck up.”

“No.” Stiles pulled the sheets over his head.

Jackson growled and pulled at his ankle. Stiles panicked. In one tug he was off the bed. “Ok, I’m up!”

“Good, help me change my bandages and then get dressed.”

Stiles mockingly bowed. He went to go wash his teeth and face before going to Jackson. He worked lazily, yawning through most of it, but he had done this so many times, he could probably do it in his sleep. When he finished, he was tempted to go back to bed, but Jackson hauled him to his feet and threw clothes at him, telling him to get dressed and make him breakfast. Stiles was way too lazy to argue.

Stiles made breakfast and enjoyed his meal, but once again Jackson dragged him out as soon as he was done.

“Stop stuffing your face, let’s go.”

“Where are we going?” Stiles yawned, as Jackson dragged him to the fireplace.

“Diagon Alley. We need new robes.”

Stiles grumbled but went with Jackson anyway. They spent a lot more time than necessary in Madam Malkin’s shop. They were measured for their new Hogwarts robes and then Jackson told him he needed to buy new fashionable robes. Stiles protested loudly. But Madam Malkin was a kind old lady, who also had the sharp with of a snake. She convinced Stiles to try on new robes.

In the end, Jackson paid. Stiles wondered where he was getting the money after he was cut off the Whittemore line, but Jackson had implied as he watched Stiles get fitted, that his parents left him a separate vault in Gringotts.

Madam Malkin jotted down his and Jackson’s measurements and asked if they wanted to try on the robes they had ordered.

Stiles had not ordered any robes.

He glared at Jackson, who had agreed. Jackson forced Stiles into a dressing room and told him to put on the new clothes.

Stiles emerged out of the shop wearing black textured robes that had too many buttons and strange pointless embellishments that did nothing. He felt utterly pretentious and very, very, pureblood, even though he wasn’t.

When he thought hell was over, Jackson was hauling him across Diagon Alley again. Several people were looking at them and Stiles felt self conscious. He couldn’t dwell on it long when he saw Madam Primpernelle’s Beautifying Shop.

“Oh hell no! Jackson!” Stiles tugged on his arm to free it from Jackson’s grasp.

“Stop making a scene you twat.” Jackson shoved him inside. Stiles cringed as he heard the loud chime ring over their heads.

“Hello Madam Primpernelle?” Jackson asked in a fake kind voice. He neared the hairdresser who was styling a woman’s hair into the shape of an elephant.

“Oh Jackson!” The woman cried in glee. Stiles took in her appearance. She had copper orange hair that had been highlighted in varying shades of neon pink, purples, blue, and blonde. It was pushed up into impossible curls, bigger than her face. “I haven’t seen you in ages.”

“I’ve been busy.” Jackson said cooly.

“I heard about the scandal you know,” She turned back to her customer and continued working on her hair, “All over the Daily Prophet. Gordon Whittemore’s only son disowned!”

Several of the ladies in the shop turned a curious eye in their direction. Stiles felt embarrassed for Jackson. But Jackson was raised as a pureblood, which meant he knew how to handle the situation, “Oh Primpernelle! You know the Daily Prophet loves to twist people’s words around. I voluntarily left the Whittemore name. It’s time for a change you know. Relying on pureblood name is preposterous. I’m thinking of starting a new era.”

“Ah a revolutionary.” The hairdresser grinned like a pixie, “I like it. Very chic. Who’s this?”

Stiles fought the urge to scramble back as her pale eyes stared into his very soul.

“Stiles Stilinski.”

“Stilinski! Your father is Head Auror! Quite an attractive man,” She looked over her shoulder, “Wouldn’t you think ladies?” Several of the women catcalled. She turned back on them with a hand on her hip, “What brings a Stilinski here?”

“This kid needs a makeover.” Jackson answered for him.  

“Uh no he doesn’t, and I’m not a kid.” Stiles replied. He wanted to leave.

“Yeah you do.”

Stiles was pushed into a chair and he glared at Jackson in the mirror. Jackson ignored him as he began to use complicated terms to the woman of how Jackson wanted his hair. Stiles’ didn’t understand it, but he was not going to be a doll for Jackson. He tried to get up, but the woman’s hand met his shoulder. He gulped as he saw her long brightly colored nails. “Stay.” She said in a no-nonsense voice.

Stiles stopped struggling.

The woman sprayed a potion in his hair. Stiles looked in the mirror and saw his hair grow rapidly to his ears. The woman pulled out her wand and then a pair of scissors that had about five blades, floated close to his head. He tried not to move. There was also this weird sea horse sponge floating about his face. It used its tail to coat Stiles face in some weird cream. Stiles scrunched his eyes shut, wanting everything to be over.

But apparently Madam Primpernelle was good at her job that she finished relatively quickly.

“Honey, you can open your eyes.”

Stiles opened one eye first, then slowly the other. Stiles stared at his reflection. Who the hell was that? He lifted his hand to run it over his hair. Both Madam and Jackson slapped his hand away.While Madam explained to Jackson what products to buy to maintain his hair, Stiles continued to stare. He honestly looked like the son of one of the most important men of the wizarding world. His hair was longer than his buzzcut. It was short on the sides and curled just a tad but elegantly on top.

Jackson pushed him out of the chair and told him to sit in the waiting area, while he got his haircut. Stiles tried not to make eye contact with the older ladies by him as they began to fawn over him. Oh. Now he knew what his father talked about when women hit on him. This was mortifying.

“That is so much better. I can actually stand to look at you.” Jackson said, with hands in his black robes.

“I can’t say I agree with the sentiment.” Stiles shot back.

Jackson was not amused. He told Stiles to get off his ass and follow him. Jackson took him to a stand where they were selling flowers. Jackson bought three expensive bouquets of flowers.

“Ok, I’m confused now, what the fuck?” Stiles questioned.

Jackson didn’t reply. He grabbed Stiles arm and together they walked to the floo’s by the Leaky Cauldron. If they weren’t getting stares before, they sure were now, Stiles thought. He pulled him into the fireplace and said, “Godric’s Hollow.”

The two landed in the fireplace by the church. Stiles immediately understood as he looked at the graveyard. Stiles’ face grew solemn as Jackson led him over to Claudia’s grave. He now understood why Jackson had been acting weird the entire day, it was the anniversary of his mother’s death. Jackson had woken him rudely and kept distracting him, that Stiles hadn’t even remembered.

“Your dad already came.” Jackson said, glancing at the flowers by the grave.

“Yeah we never come together.”

“Why?”

“We like the privacy.”

“Oh. Well I’ll leave it to you then.” Jackson then turned on his heel and walked away. Stiles knew Jackson would be able to hear, but he was at least pretending to give him privacy, which was as good as it was going to get.

Stiles sat down. Jackson was going to kill him for ruining the new robes. “Hey mom.” Stiles set the flowers down. He didn’t really know what to say. He tended to tell his mother things throughout the year in the darkness of the night. So merely this day was just to pay his respects. He sat there for a good half hour on his own, staring at the inscription of his mother’s grave.

_Claudia Stilinski  
_ _February 11 1974—August 25 2004_

He didn’t cry like he had each time he came here. For the first time, he felt a small little inkling of resentment toward her as a series of questions flooded his mind. Why hadn’t she told him about being a Moonwalker? Why did she find the need to keep it a secret and tell him instead not to walk on the moon? What was she hiding from him? Was it that she knew he would be in pain? Did she die because of her Moonwalker magic? Was he going to die like she did?

He wished he had the answers and it angered him that the answers were buried right under his feet. Stiles’ skin felt like a trail of fire ants crawled under his skin as Jackson approached. “You good?”

Stiles stood. “Yup.”

“Cool. Now go.”

“What?”

“Shoo.”

Stiles made a face but left Jackson alone. He noticed Jackson had left a bouquet of flowers for his parent’s own graveyard.

 

Jackson made sure Stiles was nowhere near before he began. “Hi Claudia. So I uh I finally got kicked out disowned, it was just a matter of time though. I wonder how you would react. I don’t have anywhere to go right now. I spent it at my girlfriend’s and best friend’s house but he had to go and I couldn’t spend it at my girlfriend’s because she went on vacation so I’m at your son’s house while I wait to go back to school. I wonder if you would have took me in. I’m a werewolf now by the way. I know you never thought highly of them, which I can never grasp my head around since you were the most accepting woman I knew, but yeah. I hoped I would have changed your mind that werewolves aren’t bad. Stiles would have convinced you too. We’re a pack now. You would be proud to know that Stiles and I are actually getting along. No more hair pulling or fist fighting...much. Your son is still an idiot by the way, but everyone is keeping him safe so there isn’t anything to worry about. Say hi to my parents will you.”

Jackson stood and left Godric’s Hollow with Stiles, heading back home. It took him a moment to realize that he had called Stiles’ home his own. Well... _whatever._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay new chapter. I am not sure when I will upload, super busy. July 4th is coming up. Comic Con is on the 9th and I’m getting ready for that. I have CPR training soon. And then KCON LA is going to be in the end of July. Also, I know this is a shot in the dark but is anyone going to KCON either Saturday or Sunday? I’m going by myself and I was wondering if anyone would like to hang out with me those days, if you would like to go you can buy convention tickets at the [KCON WEBSITE](http://www.kconusa.com/), tickets are only $10 for one day. If you would like to go with me, please message me on [TUMBLR](http://twinklingpaopufruit.tumblr.com/)
> 
> So yeah, I’m hoping uploading in August but I have to study for the CBEST so ugh. So many things. I’ll try to upload at least one short chapter before summer is over. 
> 
> Anyway what did you think of this chapter? The Jackson Stiles moments? I actually have a random porn scene that slipped from my fingers as I wrote this chapter. Oops. Not going to include it in this chapter though lol. Scott and Isaac? Any feedback is appreciated!! Sorry I did not reply to comments last chapter. I read them all and thank you so much for your wonderful praise! I just don’t have time at the moment….
> 
> Random links:
> 
>  
> 
> [STILES ROBES](http://41.media.tumblr.com/04a3816412ce5179c490ac73cc3ea446/tumblr_nnauzhnhhv1s3agyio1_500.jpg)  
> [STILES NEW HAIR](http://41.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mbps77fVtv1qiay11o2_r1_500.png)  
> [MADAM PRIMPERNELLE](http://www.bloglet.com/gallery/crezy-hair-color-ideas/crazy-hair-color-ideas.jpg)


	44. The Other Player?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something dark lurks a few days before the beginning of sixth year.

Derek’s hands skidded against the rough patch of dirt as Cora and Isaac collided against him. He growled as they went scurrying off into the Forbidden Forest, their giggles echoing against the mist. He stood and chased the pair. From the corner of his eye, he saw Erica wrestling with Jackson. They shoved each other back and forth, trying to get the upper edge to win the race. Boyd and Scott worked together to confuse Cora and Isaac and take the lead. Derek threw his head back in laughter and pushed his legs to run faster to keep up with his pack.

Everything was going well, until Derek felt a strange presence in the air. He pulled out his wand. He wasn’t quite sure what it was. His instincts told him it was a dark creature, but as he slowly turned around, his wand flew several feet into the air. An invisible force knocked him to the ground. His head smashed against a tree root. He groaned. He craned his neck, trying to see what had attacked him, but his vision was blurry.

Suddenly, he heard multiple screams.

_The pack._

His hands dug into the ground, pushing against it as he tried to stand. He could feel blood trickle down the side of his face. One of his hands tentatively reached for his head, but then he heard another scream and then a howl. He forgot his pain as he heard his pack’s hysteric cries. Adrenaline flooded his body as he stood. He took one shaky step forward. And there he heard it.

_“You’re not going anywhere, Alpha.”_

Everything turned black.

Derek opened his eyes to a burning house. Inside, he could hear high pitched wails and cries for help.

_“You did this Derek. You’re the reason they’re dead.”_

“Kate.” Derek voiced with a gasp.

The fourteen year old girl twirled around him. “Everyone in your family is dead because of you and your current pack will all die because of _you._ ” She hovered behind him and with her slim hands she gripped his temples. She guided his head until he was looking forward. The entire pack was there each one gutted open and crying in agony. Stiles was there reaching out for him with a bloodied hand.

Derek’s eyes flew open. He grumbled and looked around. He noticed his sisters in their sleeping bags. Derek slowly got up and searched for his things. He sighed at his stupidity. There sitting on top of his jeans was the ring his Betas had given him to ward nightmares. He slipped it back on his finger. He rubbed it idly. He couldn’t believe he had forgotten to put it on.

He stared at his sisters one more time, watched the way their chest rose and fell. They were still alive. Still alive, he told himself. He took one long breath and kicked at his sleeping bag.

Quietly as he could, he left the house and went outside.

He sat down on the creaky porch and let his eyes adjust to the darkness. Everything was dead silent. He couldn’t even hear a bird or cricket chirp nearby.  He frowned and let his bare feet dig into the dirt.

Nothing alive dared to come near their home. It reeked too much of death. Upon arrival at the old burned down manor, Derek threw up. He would have been embarrassed if Laura and Cora hadn’t done the same. Laura was the first to recover and cast perfumed spells. Derek and Cora had watched her from a distance and did not mention her tears as she cleansed the area.

Now, Derek ignored that under his feet nearly his entire family perished. They were not here to grieve...

His eyes traveled to the forest again and he saw clearly the _tree_. He looked over his shoulder and listened intently to his sisters’ breaths. They were still asleep, good.

He grabbed the porch’s banister to stand. Steadily, he walked to the tree.

It was an oak tree. Well it used to be. Black ash and soot covered the bark. It’s branches were bare. The tree was dead. His hands skimmed the trunk and his fingers caught deep indentations where Kate had tied him to tree. The outlines of the chains were still there as fresh as the night when Derek had tried to pull free of them.

He had only been eleven at the time...how could Kate inflict this torture?

Kate.

Kate.

Kate.

She had done this.

She tortured him. Manipulated him. Burned his family alive.

Something dark, greasy, and deep in Derek’s conscious melted into pure white wax. He had come to terms a while back that he wasn’t at fault for his family’s murder, but standing in front of the charred house solidified how right he had been. He hadn’t done this. Kate, a psychotic fourteen year old girl manipulated him and took everything from him. This was all her.

Derek rubbed at his eyes as a few tears managed to worm their way out. He choked down a laugh. Laura would be so proud right now. Stiles would be proud too.

He leaned his back on the tree, glancing at the way the house blended with the night sky. And Merlin, Derek knew that even though Kate was responsible for this, he had been involved.

And that was the key difference.

He had been involved in his family’s murder. Not an accomplice per say, but a key factor that nearly wiped out the Hale line.

It was that train of thought that should have had Derek falling apart, but Derek had done enough grieving. His family was gone. He had accepted that.

Now, he had a new pack. New patterns. A new life. And possibly in some convoluted way, this was all meant to happen. He would never had met the pack. Erica, could have possibly died from her sickness, Isaac could have still been abused by his father, Boyd could have been alone forever. He would have never fallen for Stiles. In his pack, he had repented.

A summer warm wind wrapped around him and then flowed further into the forest. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath.

_“Hey what are you doing out here?”_

His eyes opened as Cora approached.

Derek shrugged. She stood next to him and then faced the house. “Tomorrow is the day,” She said.

“It is. Are you going to be ok?”

Cora took a deep breath. She avoided the question by glancing around the forest. Her eyes caught an unharmed oak tree. She took a running start before latching onto the closest branch. She pulled herself up and let her legs swing on either side. Derek rolled his eyes and followed his sister’s example. He jumped onto the same branch. It shook under their weight so Cora pulled herself up the next one. She sagged against the trunk. Derek looked up at her.

“You didn’t answer my question.” He pursued.

“I don’t know.” She said blandly. “Fire...I’ve always been scared of it since that night. But after...the fear is stronger.”

“Cora, I’m not going to let it hurt you. Not again.”

Cora plucked a few leaves. She tossed them but they only made it past her knee. “What if it does?” She asked monotone.

Derek thought hard on what to say. “Cora, what spell extinguishes flames?”

“There’s two. _Aguamenti_ and _Glacius._ ”

“And what type of spells are those?”

“Charms.”

Derek grinned up at her, “And who is the best Charm caster?” Cora scoffed but shyly looked away. “Cora, you’ve been able to cast those spells since fourth year. They’re NEWT level spells and not once have you struggled with them. If I’m not there to keep you safe, you know you can count on your own ability.

She looked down on him. “I can’t believe you openly admitted, I’m awesome.”

Derek’s face scrunched. “I never said that.”

Cora grinned and crossed her arms behind her head. “Yeah you did.”

Derek reached up and tugged at her leg. Cora’s arms came forward quickly to steady herself. “You’re such an annoying little sister.”

Cora stuck her tongue out at him.

Derek scoffed and rubbed his face. He swung his leg over the branch and then jumped down. “You coming? Laura will freak if she sees we’re not there.”

Cora jumped down too...right on top of him. Derek grunted under the weight. Her thighs came round his head and her arms rested comfortably on top. He was tempted to throw her backwards, but a little squeeze to the head meant she would have no problem taking him down with her.

“Let’s go!” She said happily.

Derek sighed, but began moving. He dropped his sister at the porch. Her nose collided with one of the steps a little less than gently. Derek ran for his life. Cora chased after him in which Laura crawled out of her sleeping bag with full murderous intent. She tackled both to the ground. She had Derek in a headlock and Cora’s head between her ankles as she told both of them off.  The two siblings calmed down for the sake of their lives and finally went back to sleep remembering they had a huge day ahead of them.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Derek, Cora, and Laura began the preparations.

The sky above them resembled crushed charcoal and chalk. It hardly provided enough light so Laura and Derek cast small balls of floating light around the front yard of their home.

As Derek helped his sisters lay out the branches of oak, ash, and thorn in the shape of a large triskelion on the ground, he glanced at Morrell and Deaton, who had arrived in the morning. Both of them were sitting on the floor making notes in the books they would be reading off of.

As far as Derek was concerned, both of them had done this ceremony before. Morrell had done it when Deucalion’s father had passed away and again when her entire pack died. Deaton had done the same to the Hales’ grandfather, but he had never gotten the chance to do it again. Regardless, the spoken words for the ceremony were complicated because they had to be altered from pack to pack.

Derek stood and looked down at the ten feet wide triskelion. Each spiral had its own different tree, each one representing the sacred symbol of the Celtic druids in which the Hales had originated from.

He walked toward Cora and began helping her dip the stones in honey and then lay them out in a circle around the triskelion. Laura meanwhile was tying specific plants onto the branches while she poured deer fat onto the branch.

During Pre-Roman Britain, those who died were burned on a pyre and if the bodies were missing, a symbol was burned instead. Animals were slain and the fat was placed on the body or symbol while honey encircled the pyre. The druid then spoke the ancient words from the fey rod. It was made of aspen with Ogham letters and symbols carved into it. It resembled a wand and the only thing Derek knew about it was that only emissaries were allowed to look at it. It was bad luck for the family of the deceased to see it. When that was done, the pyre was lit on fire. The dead were addressed by name and then as soon as one spoke the name, the fire was extinguished with wine.

Derek knew the ceremony had no official written record. The only people who had ever mentioned it was the powerful wizard Homer and the Emperor Caesar, who had been a squib. But it was meant to be that way because this special ceremony was only done by werewolves and werewolves liked to keep mention of themselves out of all history books. The werewolves had adapted to ceremony from non-werewolf clans of druids. The druids would do the above but let the fire burn the entire night and then take a torch of the fire within the home to honor the dead. Werewolves were different. Werewolves feared the flame, it wasn’t a symbol of life. It was an ominous sign of death, so once the names of the dead were spoken it was imperative to extinguish the flames quickly.

“Are you ready?” Deaton asked them.

“Yes.” Derek spoke.

“Positions then.”

The Hales each took the corner of a spiral. They grabbed a branch. The eldest Hales used their wands to lite a fire at the tip. Derek stared at his sister.

“Cora?”

“I’m fine. Just give me a minute.” Her hands trembled with her lighter.

“You don’t have to—”

“I’m fine.” She sucked in a breath and then lit the branch.

Deaton and Morrell off to the right side of Derek began to recite the ancient words, holding the fey rods up high.  Derek kept his gaze on the triskelion to avoid looking at them.

The emissaries’ voices grew louder on each breath. Their words held power as Derek could feel the air crack with magic.

He held his own breath and hoped the ceremony would work. Derek listened intently for the Celtic word that Deaton had told him meant fire. Once they said it, Derek threw his branch into the pyre. He opened his eyes and saw his sisters do the same. The pyre immediately burst in flames.

Laura being the eldest, began reading off the names of the eldest:

“Sally Hale,” Their grandmother; “Sandra Hale,” Their aunt; “Talia Hale,” Their mother; “Lucas Hale nee Talton,” Their father; “Cersei Widmore nee Talton,” Their father’s sister.

Derek picked up where his sister left off, “Anthony Widmore,” Cersei’s husband; “George Hale nee Macklin,” Their aunt’s husband; “Nathaniel Hale nee Nocton,” Peter’s husband; “Daryl Widmore, Beth Widmore,” Their cousins.

Cora finished the list of their cousins, “Anna Widmore, William Widmore, Steven Hale,” She paused to hold the choke of tears at the youngest who died, Peter’s twin children, “Hannah Hale and Emmett Hale.”

The three Hale siblings reached to their right and picked up the heavy basin filled with wine. They stood up to empty them on the pyre. The fire was put out and they waited.

In the smoke, they could see it.

Small fairy spirits danced over the pyre. The forest fairies skipped back and forth, twirling their dresses, and shimmering their smoky wings.

Derek watched them in fascination as the dozen little fairies came together to show them the images of their families. But the images never came. The fairies continued to dance and soon they were all blurring into each other until finally they turned back into smoke. A giant triskelion made of smoke hovered over their heads.

Derek sighed. He cast his head down as the smoke faded. He looked at the ash on the ground.

“It didn’t work,” Cora muttered softly.

“We did it too late, that’s why,” Laura answered.

“I’m sorry,” Morrell interrupted. “I thought you were aware it wouldn’t work.”

All the Hales and Deaton looked at her in confusion.

She looked startled, “I had performed the ceremony with Peter a year after the fire; the ceremony only works once. I thought you knew that. I agreed to this because I thought you were just honoring your family.”

“You did this without me,” Deaton spoke.

“Peter didn’t want anyone present. He did it shortly after he healed. He said he only wanted me because I had done it before on a large scale.” She looked sad, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Derek said. He knew their uncle wasn’t the sanest, but he did love their family and he was happy someone had thought to do this. Plus, it must have been hard on Peter coming here on his own and being so close to fire right after he had watched his family die. “I’m happy we did this.” He looked to his sisters. “It was for us. Remember?”

Cora and Laura gave hesitant smiles.

“Your family looked happy,” Morrell said. “They were proud of you.”

And that’s all Derek could ask for.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Adrian Harris removed his glasses and pointed his wand at them. He cleaned them with a quick spell, hoping that the parties residing in his living room were just a speck on his glass. As he put his glasses back on, he sighed as the the two people were still there.

His eyes fell on Peter Hale first. The ingrate was by his fireplace and touching vases that Adrian had already told him to put down. But he should’ve known better when it came to Peter Hale.

He had known Peter since they were eleven. They had been in the same year when they attended Hogwarts and Adrian never liked him for one second. His Ravenclaw housemates found it odd, as Ravenclaws and Slytherins tended to get on splendidly, but Adrian despised Peter. Every room Peter sauntered into, Peter thought he owned it. His usual gang of friends: Talia Hale, Lucas Talton, Alan Deaton,  Marin Morrell, Ennis, and a few others he couldn’t quite remember, thought they owned all of Hogwarts.

Adrian hated their attitude. Although, he had found minor sympathy for the Hales when their family was murdered, but that sympathy quickly disintegrated when he discovered three years ago that the Hales were werewolves when Blake had revealed it to him.

And then his eyes fell to the second person in the living room, Jennifer Blake or formally known as Julia Baccari. She had abandoned her previous appearance for another woman again. This time she was a young Black woman in her twenties, with heavy dreadlocks that were in several different colors.

He recalled when he first met Blake. He had met her in Knockturn Alley at the turn of the century, before he began teaching. Her face had been revolting and nearly hanging by a thread. She said she wanted to begin teaching at Hogwarts and Adrian sold her Polyjuice Potion to build up her facade. He continued to provide her a steady supply and when she helped him obtain a position at Hogwarts as a Potions Professor the next year, he continued brewing the potion.

He didn’t mind since she paid well and if there was one thing Adrian loved, it was money. It was the primary reason he helped her. Even though he now had a position as a Potions Professor he continued to sell illegal potions, after all it was all about the money. Blake found it amusing and they became quite good friends because of it.

He had developed a strong liking to her for the next eight years. He respected her talent in the art of Transfiguration and he was amazed by the beauty she possessed in her animagus. She was in all manner lovely, even if she was broken. Adrian knew she had a past, but Adrian didn’t really want to know it. It would break the facade of Jennifer Blake, he had come to love.

He wished she would have never told him.

Nearly three years ago, she blackmailed him. Said she would report him to the aurors for his potions if he did not comply and help her break out three werewolves out of Azkaban. From there, his whole perception of her shattered and he found her sickening instead of beautiful.

She was an emissary to werewolves. She was a lowly being who was in love with a sick vile creature.

Adrian began to hate her and she reciprocated his displeasure with amusement. She still continued to blackmail him, forced him to make a potion for Deucalion, forced him to make scent-masking potions, help curse Matthew Dahler, and lie to aurors.

She had dug his grave and there she stood behind him, with a wand pressed against his back, waiting for him to betray her so she could shove him into the hole.

Dear Rowena, he hated his life.

He entered the living room with tea and sat on his sofa as Blake began to cackle. “You’re family barely did the ritual! That’s hilarious!”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Your sense of amusement is irritating. Shut your mouth before I kick you out.” Adrian was grateful for his tone and watched as Peter returned the vase to its proper position. He sat across from Adrian and propped his feet on the coffee table. Yup, Peter Hale still thought he owned everything.

“Kick me out?!” Blake scoffed.

“I’m not a wanted fugitive. So unless you want me to keep you out of Azkaban, I suggest you listen.”

She rolled her eyes and traded looks with Adrian. “Can you believe him? After all I’ve done for him.”

Adrian took a deep breath and looked her in the eye, “I would also suggest you listen.”

“Oh?” Blake sat straight. “Are you in any position to tell me what to do Adrian?”

Harris’ jaw clenched. “In fact I am. Like Hale said, you are the wanted fugitive here. I could stop making you Polyjuice Potion and inform the aurors where you are hiding.”

“But you wouldn’t.” She snarled. “I’ll take you down with me. Tell all the aurors that not only have you been aiding me but you have been making illegal potions and selling them in Knockturn Alley for quite some time.”

Peter snorted. “Don’t mess with Slytherins, Harris.”

“She didn’t even go to Hogwarts.”

“No, but I was head of it which is just as fantastic. So put your little Ravenclaw brain to work and make me more Polyjuice Potion.”

“How are you still making it? Didn’t the aurors give you a warning about the potion?” Peter asked curiously.

“I lied my way through it.”

“Apparently not well enough. There’s an auror team down your block. They questioned me and the lovely Janet of what we were doing. Luckily for you, I just said I wanted to revisit old Hogwarts friends and I wanted to introduce you to my new girlfriend.”

Adrian bit his tongue to say they were never friends and instead, “I told the aurors I was researching a way to make Polyjuice Potion more potent and give the information to the ministry so aurors could use it on undercover missions. I personally asked the aurors if they could keep guard on me while I was away at Hogwarts. I mentioned that you,” he looked at Blake, “attempted to proposition me several times for Polyjuice Potion and I always refused. I also said I feared for my life that you would seek me out, so the aurors got those two idiot trainees outside keeping watch on something that is inevitably still happening.”

Blake smirked, “And this is why you are the Ravenclaw of the group.” She leaned forward and grabbed a sheet of parchment that Peter had left on the coffee table. “Are these the werewolves helping us? Seems like a lot doesn’t?”

Peter snatched the list. “That’s actually a list of werewolves who don’t want to aid us. Apparently, everyone thinks we are going to ritually sacrifice them.”

Blake smiled. “Well, they wouldn’t be at fault for thinking that, considering the last fifty werewolves we killed.”

“They are not going to be sacrificed,” Peter spoke. “They are going to serve as security to help us enter the ministry. Lycaon is waiting for us.”

“Oh, like the werewolves will believe that.”

“Why is it when I choose tell the truth no one seems to believe me.”

“You just have one of those faces.” Blake laughed.

“Again, your amusement is irritating.” Peter sighed and turned to Harris. “You do realize there is going to be an auror team at Hogwarts. One that will not be trainees. They really do suspect you.”

“You warn me like I’m an idiot,” Adrian hissed. “I’ll keep low. They won’t even notice. I’ll continue to make the potion for her and that’s it. I’m done helping you lot.”

Adrian flinched as his fireplace lit green. His attention fell to the last party member, the cause of all this mess. Blake and Peter greeted them.

“You’re not helping anymore, Adrian? Oh, well that’s alright. I’ve got it covered.”

 

|~~***~~|

 

It was late. Stiles and Jackson both stared at the ceiling, trying to sleep. It wasn’t even that weird anymore (well just a little now) that Jackson would sleep in his bed.

“Hey Stiles.” Jackson began, breaking the silence.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t you think it’s strange that all of this happened?”

“That what happened?”

“That my dad was a werewolf, your mom was a Moonwalker, we meet the Hales who had their family killed by an Argent, how Allison and her family come to Hogwarts, Lydia being a Banshee, how Morrell was Deucalion’s emissary and Deucalion tries to kill everyone. How Blake had her pack killed and comes to Hogwarts and happened to be whatever she was to Kali and tried to kill us all.”

Stiles pressed his face against the pillow to look at Jackson. “Everything fits too perfectly is what you’re saying.”

Jackson faced him too. “Yeah. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

“I actually have.”

“And?”

Stiles bit his bottom lip for a moment, “I feel like something is working against us.”

Jackson nodded, understanding. “That we’re just pawns on a wizard’s chess board?”

“I feel like we’re more than pawns. I think we might be the other player without knowing.”  

Jackson turned back to the ceiling, “Good. Cause I’m no one’s pawn.”

Stiles looked at the ceiling again and began to wonder if the other team called check before they knew what was happening, would it be too late?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter but I wanted to upload something!!
> 
> So I did do extensive research on Pre-Roman Celtic rituals. I figured since the triskelion is Celtic that's where the Hale family would have originated from. Also, the above ritual is from Homer's epic. I figured no one would believe it since most of his stories were tales. 
> 
> And also Dun Dun. There is someone else helping rise Lycaon? WHAT? WHO IS IT?
> 
> But anyway tell me what you thought of this chapter? Derek's feelings? Harris not really the emissary of Ennis but rather someone who was just blackmailed? Jackson and Stiles catching onto the idea that something weird is going on?
> 
> Also! I uploaded a smut chapter about Stiles/Jackson that holds no relation to Moonwalkers. But you are welcome to read [HERE](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4352378).
> 
> And again. I'm just gonna repeat from last chapter. I know this is a shot in the dark but is anyone going to KCON either Saturday or Sunday? I’m going by myself and I was wondering if anyone would like to hang out with me those days, if you would like to go you can buy convention tickets at the [KCON WEBSITE](http://www.kconusa.com/), tickets are only $10 for one day. If you would like to go with me, please message me on [MY TUMBLR](http://twinklingpaopufruit.tumblr.com/)


	45. The Return to Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sixth Year begins with new faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let the Third and last Arc begin!!! Like the first one, this one will take a while to unfold. I want the pack to enjoy their sixth year for a bit.

“If you don’t get your foot out of my face, I’m going to cut off your little werewolf tail and feed it to the garden gnomes outside.” Stiles grumbled into the pillow, trying to get away from Jackson’s pretentious shoes.

“Derek is the one with the tail. Don’t go on confusing me with that leather wearing jackass.” Jackson did take his foot off the bed though. “Anyway, your dad told me to wake you up at eight and said to use any means necessary to get you out of bed.”

“Ugh why is everyone joining my father to gang up on me?!"

“Because honestly you make it too easy.” Stiles turned his head and saw Jackson fix his robes. “Get up. Lydia wanted all of us to meet her at the Leaky Cauldron at nine.”

“Lydia is a fucking psycho. Who the hell wakes up at nine?!”

“Hey. I’m the only one able to talk crap about her. Now get up.”

Stiles groaned louder. “Ugh. Fine, let’s change your bandages first.”

“They’re good, your dad helped me. And the wounds are practically gone, we can change them when we get to Hogwarts later tonight.”

“Whatever. Where are you going?”

“To Diagon Alley. I haven’t seen Lydia in weeks. She’s already there.”

“Ok fine. I’ll catch up to you later.” Stiles slowly sat up.

“Don’t forget to put on your new robes and the hair product I bought you. I will bat bogey hex you if you don’t.”

“Got it. Got it. Make sure to dress like a pretentious douchewad. Check.” Jackson threw Stiles’ shoe at him. “Ow. _Fuck Jackson_ I was just joking. I only think of you as pretentious now. Ow." And that was the other shoe.

Stiles finally listened and went to the bathroom to get ready to depart for Hogwarts. When he entered the shower, he felt the presence of a werewolf disappear from the home. For the first time in three weeks, Stiles didn’t feel any heat under his skin. He enjoyed it and took his first warm shower in months.

He went through his new daily routine that Jackson had laid out for him. He was so going to break it when they got to Hogwarts, the amount of lotions and creams on both his face and hair were ridiculous. Who had time for all of this? Pretentious asswipes like Jackson, that’s who.

He went back to his room to go change, as he was about to clasp his crisscrossed navy blue robe over his white dress shirt and black trousers, he felt a werewolf enter the home. Stiles grinned as he knew who it was already. He brought up his right leg on his bed as he tied up his laced boots that went below his knee. The heat radiated at his doorway. Stiles slowly turned to the doorway with a grin.

Derek stared stupidly at Stiles. That was not how he had left Stiles at all. Holy—those clothes, that _hair_ , and dear lord those boots. Stiles looked different but in such a good way that when Stiles began “Hey De—”

Derek didn’t let him finish. He grabbed hold of Stiles’ thigh that was on display and used it to push him against the bed.

Derek’s senses were overwhelmed, the sight of Stiles’ torso in a form fitting shirt under his own fingers; the taste of Stiles’ skin, of his mouth; the smell of a freshly washed Stiles, of his hair as Derek kissed his neck. Derek tried to lose himself in these things, in the moment, without thinking about where it all was going.

His mouth moved upwards until he was kissing Stiles, his mouth open and eager. He could feel the heat of the Slytherin’s flushed cheeks. Stiles hands came to sneak beneath Derek’s robes and rub against his bare stomach. Derek tried to concentrate on what he was doing, the angle of his head as he kissed the other teen. He tilted his head to accommodate noses and chins. He nearly groaned at the give and take of their tongues sliding together.

But of course, Stiles had to breathe. Derek pulled back.

“And thank you Jackson!” Stiles cried happily.

It was then that Derek finally recognized the scent lingering in Stiles’ home when he flooed in. “Why does your bed smell like—”

“Jackson?” Stiles grinned. “Oh well you weren’t here and I had to entertain myself in some—”

Derek growled and shut him up with a harsh open mouthed kiss. Stiles moaned loudly and his legs came wrapping around Derek’s waist. He pushed up insistently. Derek was tempted to take this further, but it was almost nine and he immensely feared Lydia’s wrath. He pulled away.  

“Aww are you jealous?” Stiles whined sarcastically. Derek hated how he somehow found Stiles’ asshole nature to be attractive. Oh there was something definitely wrong with him. “Ok sorry. He didn’t have anywhere to live so he stayed with me.”

“There are other beds. Other _rooms_.” Derek muttered.

“Aww you are jealous.” Stiles bravely booped Derek’s nose with his finger. Derek debated biting it off. Knowing that Stiles would complain about that for the whole day made Derek resist; also, Stiles must have seen the murderous intent in his eyes because he pulled away with his large bambi eyes. “Sorry.”

Derek still retaliated by pushing Stiles’ face into the mattress using his broad palm.

“Hey!” Stiles cried with laughter, “Don’t mess up the hair. I am not looking forward to having bats flying out my nose and ears.”

Derek stopped and rested his forearms on the bed opposite of Stiles’ head. His entire weight was nearly on top of the Slytherin. “When did you change your hair?”

“About a week and a half ago. Jackson said he was tired of looking at my unfashionable self. Why?”

“I like it.” Derek said with a smile. Derek’s right hand gently raked through Stiles’ hair. It came down to cup Stiles’ cheek. Oh, how he had missed him. He leaned down and trailed his nose up and down Stiles’ neck, scenting him.

“How was home?” Stiles asked when Derek got quiet.

Derek licked his lips, “Enlightening.” He decided to answer.

“That’s good.”

“And you.”

“It was alright.” Stiles shrugged awkwardly underneath him. “What are you doing here anyway? Lydia said to meet her at the Leaky Cauldron at nine.”  

“I wanted to see you first.”

Stiles pulled his chin so they could kiss. “My boyfriend is secretly a sap. I love it!”

That earned Stiles a hard knock against the chest as Derek stood. He adjusted his own robes and took a moment to admire Stiles sprawled on the bed with cheeks still flushed and mouth swollen. It only lasted a moment though. Stiles clumsily stood to go to his mirror. He made sure his hair was still ok and then gave a beaming smile in Derek’s direction.

“A little help here?” Stiles asked, pointing at his trunk by his bed. It was mostly empty as all his school belongings and clothes littered his room. Derek glared at him, tempted to tell him no and suffer the consequences. But it was almost nine and despite that he was a lot taller and stronger than Lydia, she was still a hell of a lot scary. So Derek waved his wand and watched the majority of Stiles’ things dance and file neatly into the trunk. He waved his wand again to shut it close and shrink it to fit in his palm. He threw the trunk at Stiles. Stiles caught it at the last second before it hit the ground.

Derek rolled his eyes and began to head out of Stiles’ room. Stiles grabbed his hand and dragged him in the direction of the kitchen instead.

“Hello Mr. Stilinski,” Derek said politely, still a little scared (incredibly frightened) of the Head Auror as he saw him sitting at the table drinking coffee and reading the Daily Prophet.

“Derek, I didn’t know you were here.”

“I just got here.”

“I see you found Stiles first.”

Stiles adjusted the collar of his shirt, John’s eyes narrowed to it. Derek froze, trying not to make any sudden movement. He stood awkwardly as Stiles and John said their goodbyes. After a few moments, the two hugged. John then extended his arms out toward Derek.

“Uh.”

“C’mon Derek, you are part of the family.”

Derek moved in to hug John. Derek felt a little stiff but he was grateful that John did it as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He could hear Stiles snickering behind him. Derek fought the urge to growl. Again, the two gave their goodbyes and used the fireplace to enter the Leaky Cauldron.

|~~***~~|

As soon as the green flames receded, Stiles was nearly knocked off his feet as a scorching warmth encompassed him from all sides. He stumbled back and Derek steadied him against his chest.

“You ok?” Concern filled Derek’s voice.

Stiles nodded, taking a few breaths. He loosed the top button of his shirt to find some semblance of relief. Derek hovered behind him. “You sure?”

Stiles didn’t want Derek questioning it all. Despite not wanting to use his magic, he pulled on it to lie effectively. _**“Yeah, just got a little dizzy from the floo.”**_

Derek let the subject matter drop. He took a few more breaths and then his heart nearly exploded as he saw a familiar face in the pub. Stiles flew toward his best friend. Scott laughed as he found himself with an armful of Stiles. Stiles legs came around his best friend’s waist and Scott twirled them around. Because the duo never were the most graceful pair, Scott tripped over an unattended bar stool and they came crashing down onto the table of two elderly witches. Both of the witches gasped as tea cups spilled and utensils clattered to the ground. They then began to tell the two boys off. Scott and Stiles stood and apologized several times, but it didn’t seem very sincere considering they were still laughing. The two witches rose their noses in the air and left the pub.

Scott and Stiles continued giggling like school girls. They then took the time to examine each other. Scott, like himself, had a new haircut. It was shorter and styled in a way that made him look more mature instead of an eternally lost puppy. He noticed Scott had bulked a bit more and was wearing a shirt highlighting his biceps and on his left arm, “HOLY FUCK!” Stiles shouted. “Is that a tattoo?!”  

Scott gave a dopey grin. “Yup.”

“Holy crap!” Stiles grabbed the arm and twisted it unnaturally to get a better look at the moving rings.

_“He came to our house begging Laura to give him one.”_

“CORA!” Stiles screamed. The Gryffindor stood behind them. Stiles was ready to pounce on the girl.

She held up a hand. “Don’t you dare expect to twirl me around the pub like an idiot.”

“What? No, I want you to twirl me, c’mon!” Stiles extended his arms and dramatically tilted his head back.  

Cora rolled his eyes, but did give him a friendly hug. “I see Derek paid you a visit.” She said to her brother.

Derek glared at her.

“Where are the others?” Stiles asked. His excitement to see his friends overrode any heat prickling his skin.

“Oh we got a booth in the back area.” Scott said, dragging his best friend.

Scott led the way. As soon as he got there, Erica launched at him. They were in danger of nearly falling onto another table. She pulled back and made a predictable lewd comment at his appearance. Boyd and Isaac gave him a friendly up turn of the head, while Allison gave him a much tamer hug. Lydia complimented Jackson on a job well done on the makeover, instead of complimenting Stiles.

When greetings were given, Stiles noticed the obvious tension between Scott and Allison as they sat on opposite sides. Scott was sitting with Isaac which wasn’t unusual since the two had spent the last three weeks together, while Allison sat with Lydia.

Stiles made Scott scooch. He squeezed in and Derek sat next to them. Derek threw his arm around Stiles’ shoulder to not fall over.

The pack tried to catch up as much as they could. Lydia directed the talk in organized fashion talking about her spectacular trip to Sweden with Allison. Allison mostly remained quiet the entire time through. Scott and Isaac talked about their wondrous adventure of getting pooped by a dragon, which Stiles didn’t really understand but he took their word for it. Boyd didn’t have much to say but he talked about merely enjoying movies with Erica the entire summer as they healed.

Somewhere along the line, everyone began to boast about OWLs scores.

“You got an ‘O’ in Potions!” Stiles screeched at Scott. Derek covered his ears.

Scott jumped up and down in his seat. “Hell yeah! I didn’t think I would but I did it! How did you do in Defense?”

“I got an ‘Exceeds Expectations’.” Stiles muttered.

“Really?” Derek squeezed his shoulder so he would look at him. “That’s great. You can continue for NEWTs.”

Stiles smiled. “What about you guys?”

“Well I passed Potions but not enough to take Harris class,” Isaac said blandly. “But that’s ok. I don’t want to be in his class anyway.” Derek made a comment that it wasn’t the end of the world.

“I didn’t pass Charms,” Erica pouted.

“Cause everything during the practical exploded in your face,” Cora told her friend. Erica stuck her tongue out.

“I didn’t either,” Boyd said. “But whatever, who wants to take NEWT level courses with Finstock.”

Everyone at the table shuddered, not looking forward to it.

“What about you Lydia?” Erica asked. “All ‘Outstandings’ I bet.”

Lydia made a face.

Jackson snorted. “All ‘O’s’ except one ‘E’ in Defense.”

Lydia slapped his arm. “Shut it.”

“You still have the highest marks out of all us.” Allison told her.

Lydia flipped a lock of hair, “Whatever, one little flaw on my record won’t matter when I’m Head Girl next year.”

Cora snorted. Stiles noticed Derek stiffen a bit, but it wasn’t his usual ‘I’m angry with you’ posture it was his more bashful posture that Stiles was starting to adore.

“Speaking of Heads. Guess who’s Head Boy?” Cora muttered, sticking out her tongue.

Everyone’s head turned to Derek. Stiles shoved him lightly. “Dude! Why didn’t you tell me?”

Derek blushed at the tips of his ears, “I hadn’t found the time.”

Scott draped himself over Stiles. “Well, c’mon. Show us then.”

Derek fumbled inside his pocket and took out the small little badge that read ‘Head Boy.’

Stiles grinned at Derek’s embarrassment as everyone congratulated him. Derek tried to shy away from it and burrow himself into his seat. Everyone wanted to order drinks to celebrate, but Stiles suddenly remembered, “Shit! I forgot to buy my books.”

Jackson scrunched his brows, “I thought we bought them just a few days ago?”

“No remember, they ran out of the Arithmancy books. I should go get it.”

“I’ll go with you.” Derek said, standing up. “I still haven’t bought mine.”

“Great!” Cora commented. She threw him her list, “Buy mine please.”

“Buy them yourself.” Derek scolded, not picking up the paper that was now on the table.

“I bought you a new leather jacket.”

“With Laura’s money.”

“So? I still got it, now buy my books.”

“No.”

Cora narrowed her eyes. She turned to the pack, “So Derek, Laura, and I went camping this summer right. And when we went running in the woods there was this deer that popped out of nowhere and Derek being the adorable Der-Bear he is, gets scared shitless and then runs straight into a nest of—”

Derek snatched her book list from the table, “Fine. I’ll get your goddamn books.”  

Stiles laughed and hauled Derek out of the pub before he could do damage to his little sister.

The two made their way past the other shoppers of Diagon Alley. Stiles bounced happily as the heat faded when they were two stores down. They avoided the panicking first years rushing back and forth making last minute purchases before they had to board the train. Luckily, Flourish and Blotts was mostly empty because no one was crazy enough to buy their books at the last minute.

Stiles parted with Derek to get his book. When he went looking for Derek, Stiles had to lean against the shelf to laugh as he looked at Derek. He had his books on a locomotive charm, but the serious frown on his face as he spoke with one of the shop workers was way too funny. The poor twenty-something was shaking in her shoes as Derek asked her with a serious frown where a certain Charms book was at it since it wasn’t in its designated section. Stiles went to aid the poor woman. He clapped Derek on the back, “I got this, mam.”

The woman nodded and left at a quick pace.

“Dude you gotta stop scaring poor women with your attractive menacing eyebrows.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Are you serious? Do you not know how fucking scary and hot you are?”

Derek rolled his eyes as he followed Stiles to the correct book aisle. He grabbed Cora’s book with a huff. “You got your book?” Derek asked.

Stiles waved the single book by his face. The two quickly paid for their purchases but as they reached the door to return to the street, Stiles stopped. “Huh.”

“What?”

“I feel like I’m missing something.”

Derek worked his hands under Stiles’ robe and reached for Stiles’ back pocket. Stiles liked the way Derek did that with ease. Derek unrolled his list of things he would need for the school year and then began reading.

“Books?”

“Check.”

“New cauldron?”

“Yup.”

“Replaced your balance scale.”

“Yeah.”

Derek read the rest and then Stiles pouted. “That’s so weird. I feel like I’m missing something very important. Like I forgot to do something.”

Derek pushed the list back in his back pocket and then the two headed back into the street. “Did you buy your crazy amount of licorice wands?”

“Yeah,” Stiles batted his eyelashes at Derek. He knew it was a ridiculous look but it didn’t hurt to try. “Although, it couldn’t hurt to have more.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

Stiles pursed his lip in thought. “Can we go to Gambol and Japes then?”

Derek sighed, “We have thirty minutes before we have to go to King’s Cross.”

“I promise I’ll be quick.” Stiles whined.

“If we miss the train—”

“We won’t!” Stiles was already tugging on his sleeve.  

Stiles led the way into the shop. It was packed with customers. Stiles couldn’t get near the shelves, but with an awesome scary boyfriend several of the other customers moved out of the way. Stiles stared at the boxes piled up to the ceiling. Stiles went charging for the Nosebleed Nougats.

Derek grabbed his hand. “No.”

“Why?”

“You are not giving these to first years.”

“What? You’re ridiculous. I would never prank first years. That’s cruel and barbaric.”

Derek sighed. He grabbed Stiles’ hand which had taken a fistfull of the candy and made him put it back.

“Merlin’s old balls, you’re going to take this Head Boy thing seriously, aren’t you?” Derek crossed his arms over his chest. “How bout this? You don’t break any of your Head Boy duties if you don’t see me do anything illegal right? So why don’t you go over there where you can’t see me and I’ll pick what I want. None of us get in trouble.” Derek was not amused so Stiles continued. “Or we can argue about what I can and can’t buy and then miss the Hogwarts Express.”

Derek gave him a long stare but then turned on his heel and walked the other way. Stiles fought the urge to jump in glee. He went running toward the Instant Darkness Powder. He took about three boxes. He then went to buy some Decoy Detonators, already thinking of diversion techniques for the list of pranks he had lined up when he returned to school. Stiles tried to go as fast as he could and stuff his arms of anything within his reach.

Unfortunately, he ran into a small girl. She tumbled to the ground. When he looked at her, he was pretty sure she was in his year and in Hufflepuff. The girl stood and cried in anger, but when she took a long look at him, Stiles saw her blush and fidget with her robes. What the hell?

“Let me help you with that,” She said. She grabbed a few boxes and carried it to the cashier.

“Uh...thanks.”

Stiles paid and the Hufflepuff girl lingered. “So it’s Stiles right?”

Before Stiles could reply, somebody from the front of the store shouted, “Jessica, c’mon! We’re gonna miss the train!”

The girl huffed, “I’ll see you at school!” She went skipping away. _Ok...weird._

Stiles turned to the sales clerk who handed him his shopping bag. Stiles gladly took it and went to go find Derek in the sea of customers. He found Derek sulking in a corner and glaring at a cage. Stiles approached and looked over Derek’s shoulder. There were a number of round balls of fluff in every shade imaginable, all rolling around the bottom of a cage and emitting high-pitched squeaks. All of them, rolled to the corner of the cage to get away from Derek. Stiles wondered if they could sense he was a werewolf.

“What are those?” Derek asked, sensing Stiles behind him.

“Pygmy Puffs,” said Stiles. “Miniature puffskeins.”

“They’re—”

“Cute and cuddly?” Stiles finished for him. He glanced back down and saw a mint colored Pygmy Puff roll away from the others and to the edge of the cage. It squeaked in Derek’s direction. “I think that one likes you.”

Derek stared at it as if personally offended him.

“We should buy it,” Stiles announced.

Derek glanced at him. “I’m good.”

“No, c’mon.” Stiles shouted for a staff member to help them.

“I don’t want it.”

Stiles ignored him and told him he wanted to take a look at the mint one. The staff member carefully picked out the Pygmy Puff and handed it to Stiles. Stiles placed it in Derek’s palm. The fluff ball glared at Derek for a long three seconds, but then it fell on it’s side and rubbed against Derek’s hand.  Derek’s face caved.

|~~***~~|

“I told you we were going to be late!” Derek shouted, rushing pass the muggles to platform. Stiles had to sprint to keep up with Derek.

“What? We still have three minutes.” Stiles exclaimed.

And just because the universe loved Stiles, he tumbled into an old muggle lady’s trolley cart. Stiles flipped the cart and himself dramatically to the ground. The old lady cried in displeasure. Stiles was at lost on whether to help her or keep running. Luckily, Derek appeared by his side and helped him pick up the lady’s things. The lady smiled at Derek’s presence but stared strangely at the mint puff ball riding on Derek’s right shoulder.

Before she could ask what it was, the two went running.

Stiles felt heat under his skin and up ahead he could see Scott and Isaac. “There you guys are!” Scott chided. “We were going to go out looking for you.”

The four of them passed through the barrier, where the scarlet Hogwarts Express stood belching steam over the crowd.

The bell whistled. “Crap, c’mon.” Scott shouted.

The four of them barely made it on the train. They took a moment to breathe against the train door.

“Is that a Pygmy Puff?” Isaac asked, looking at Derek’s shoulder.

The Head Boy stood straight. “I have to go to the prefect carriage and then patrol the corridors for a bit.” He told Stiles, evading the question.

“Alright. I’ll see you later.” They watched Derek leave stiffly.

“Well we better go look for the others,” said Scott.

Stiles could feel his senses drawn in different directions. His magic provided helpfully where their non-prefect friend was. “Erica is at the dining cart.”

“How do you know?” Isaac asked.

Stiles shrugged. “Instinct.”

The three walked down the corridors in search of their friends. As they entered the dining cart, Stiles could see Erica, Danny, and Allison. Allison looked bashfully away at Scott. The Hufflepuff girl however, was arguing with the seventh year Slytherins, who had commandeered the entire dining area.

Danny turned toward him, “Hey Stiles.”

“Hey. What’s going?”

Erica turned on her heel. “They don’t want to share.”

“Slytherins, don’t share!” Unger cried out from the seat furthest from Erica.

“Well you are going to have to. The carts big enough for your friends and mine!” Erica shouted.

“Why don’t we go look for another compartment?” Isaac questioned.

“Tried.” Allison said. “Everywhere else is full.”

“Yeah,” Erica added. “It’s like there are more Hogwarts students or something. And this is the only place still free.”

Stiles sighed. Of course, seventh year Slytherins weren’t going to listen to a Hufflepuff nor were they going to listen to Danny or Stiles...but.

Stiles clapped Danny on the shoulder, “C’mon Danny boy, let’s work our magic.”

Danny walked behind him toward the small table where Unger and Reddick sat. Stiles and Danny both slid into the booth opposite of them.

“My clients and I would like to make a proposition,” Stiles said, folding his arms on the table. Danny rolled his eyes but played along.

“State your terms.” Unger replied.

“We get half the carriage and provide you with a month’s supply of Honeydukes’ candy.” Stiles stated.

“You think we’ll be bought with sweets?” Reddick scoffed. “This place is ours, bugger off Stilinski.”

Danny interrupted, “Or considering that Jackson is captain of the Slytherin team he can kick you out.”

“He wouldn’t.” Unger laughed.

“I don’t know Unger,” Stiles said. “Jackson always listens to Danny.”

“We’re his best Beaters.” Unger said, “He wouldn’t throw away the cup for some lousy seats.”

Danny smirked, “You sure about that? Maybe there’s someone better than you.”

“Please,” Reddick rolled his head. “We are the best he’s got.”

Danny twisted in his seat to look at the table behind them. “Hey Brett!” Danny called. The tall seventh year faced them as well. “You’ve been practicing Quidditch all summer right?”

“Yup. My dad won tickets to the Irish game and I got to meet Connolly and Quigley. They both offered to train me.”

Danny smiled. “Thanks Brett.”

“Anytime Danny.” Brett then winked and sent Danny a smooch.

Danny chuckled and turned back to Unger and Reddick.

“I think,” Stiles grinned. “It’s in your best interest if you want to continue to stay on the team you gotta share.”

The two Beaters clenched their jaws and grinded their teeth. They conceded defeat. The seventh year Slytherins stood and moved closer together instead of spaced out.

Stiles and the others took the front and they noticed they still had four seats available in the center of the dining cart.

Erica and Allison took their own table and began to chat away from the boys.

“How was Hawaii?” Isaac asked Danny.

“Amazing,” Danny grinned. He looked down on his hands, “Got a bit tanner though.”

“It looks good.” Stiles commented across from him.

“So do you,” Danny smirked.

Stiles found himself blushing. Scott bumped his shoulder. They turned around and saw Brett Talbot approaching. He took out his wand, winked at Stiles, and cast a silencing spell. Stiles rolled his eyes at Slytherins and their privacy. Although, that did leave their group free to talk about whatever they wanted.

“So who do you think is going to be new Transfiguration professor?” Stiles asked. “I mean the last one got a little more than sacked.”

“I have no idea,” Isaac said. “I saw Deaton a few days ago but he didn’t talk about a new professor.”

“He should have gotten a new Potions professor too.” Scott skulked. “I can’t imagine having Harris there knowing he wanted to kill us. ”

“My dad said they were going to have an auror team watching him, so we shouldn’t have to worry much. We’ll keep an eye out too though.”

“Are you guys crazy?” Danny scoffed. “All of you almost died getting involved.”

“Almost isn’t dead though,” Erica commented, overhearing their conversation. “Derek would want us to keep everyone at Hogwarts safe.”

Stiles blew a raspberry. “I’m not so sure about that. I think he wants _us_ to be safe before getting involved again, after what happened.”

“And this is why I’m assuming Derek is the Alpha,” Danny said.

“And it’s also why we are going to be doing it anyway behind his back,” Scott said, reading his best friend’s mind.

“Yeah,” Stiles agreed. “We can’t take any chances.”

The pack grew silent as the weight of responsibility hung with a thin string over their heads. Somehow, Scott brought back the conversation into neutral territory and everyone began to talk about their summers. Stiles tried to concentrate but with Scott, Isaac, and Erica near him. The heat was really starting to get to Stiles. He excused himself and went to the nearest washroom.

He clutched the sink and took deep even breaths. The heat dwindled a bit but he couldn’t imagine carrying on like this for the entire train ride. A thought struck his head. He pulled out his wand and cast a strenuous cooling charm all over his body. His skin prickled underneath with ice. He felt much better already. He shook his arms a few times and got ready to head back.

“Oh.”

Stiles stepped back to avoid colliding with Allison.

“Sorry,” He said.

“It’s alright.” Her eyes fell to the ground.

Stiles bent a little at the knees to meet her eyes. “You know, you don’t have to act distant.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You and Scott.”

“It’s just—”

“Hey,” Stiles raised his hands in front of his chest. “Whatever reason you broke up with him. I respect it. You’re a nice girl Allison, I know you did it for good reason.”

She stood straight, “So you don’t hate me?”

“I didn’t hate you when you kicked me in the jaw and put a sword at my neck. I’m not going to hate you for this. Sometimes things don’t work out.”

She looked back down. “Does Derek hate me?”

“What?” Out of all the question, Stiles didn’t expect her to ask that. Maybe ask if Scott was angry with her, but Derek.

“Does he hate me?”

“No. I don’t think Derek’s been angry at you ever since you helped back in December. Why would you ask that?”

“Cause I broke Scott.”

“You didn’t break Scott.”

Allison tilted her head. “You didn’t hear?”

Stiles felt his heart quicken. “Hear what?”

“Um Cora sent me a letter saying that Scott lost control the last three full moons. I thought you would have known but that’s a stupid assumption, you guys couldn’t see each other.”

Stiles was upset upon hearing this. His eyes looked down the corridor. He knew he couldn’t speak to Scott over the summer, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t say it now. Oh, but that was a mistake on Stiles’ thinking. He recalled Scott loved to hide things. He never spoke about his discomfort when he turned into a werewolf and he doubt he would speak of this werewolf problem now. Stiles pondered it over. It made sense that Scott would lose his anchor. His anchor had been Allison, and now…

“That isn’t your fault,” Stiles decided to say. “You didn’t ask to be his anchor. This is on him.”

Allison sighed and leaned against the train’s corridor, “Did it ever hurt you to know that I was his anchor and you weren’t?”

Well that was a straightforward question to ask, but Allison was a Gryffindor. She wasn’t going to beat around the bush. “Yeah, but I get it. Scott thinks everyone has a Stiles.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing.” Stiles waved it off, “Something Derek told me a long time ago.” He licked his lips. “It’s just something he’s going to have to work on.”

Allison smiled, “I’m glad he has you for a friend.”

Stiles leaned his weight on one leg, “Do you still love him?”

Allison took a deep breath and looked out the window. “I don’t know. At the beginning of summer, I still did, but I had a lot of time to myself and I wonder if what I felt for him was more of—I don’t know how to describe it. Affection? I still love him, but not in that way anymore, I think. Why?”

Stiles scuffed his shoes on the ground, “I just want to make sure you won’t break his heart again.”

Allison put on a tiny smile, “I won’t. I promise.”

“And that’s what I wanna hear. Now c’mon, let’s go make sure that Erica and Isaac haven’t started a war with the Slytherins.”

The weather beyond the train windows was as sunny as it had been all summer; they passed through stretches of unbearable light and occasionally chilling mist. It was during one of the cloudy spells, that the others arrived at the dining cart at last.

“Oh god, fifth year prefects are the worst!” Cora whined, plopping herself next to Erica. “Were we that bad?”

“You mean abusing your duties and not taking anything seriously?” Derek said, he sat next to Stiles, who was now sitting by himself. The Pygmy Puff rolled off Derek’s shoulder and onto the railing of the window until it made it to Isaac’s table, who had his own dumbo rat out. The two began to play.

Cora stuck her tongue out at him. “Whatever Mr. Head Boy.”

Before the two siblings could argue, the door slid open and a small second-year boy stepped inside.

“I’m supposed to give this to,” He paused trying to sound out the name with no luck. Stiles recognized one of the vowels as his own name. He rose his hand to tell the boy it was him. He handed him a rolled parchment with a red ribbon. Stiles took the scroll and the boy left the dining cart.

“What’s that?” Scott asked.

“A meeting.” Stiles said.

_Mr. Stilinski_

_Due to the events that occurred in June, I need you to meet with me after I present myself to the Slytherin house. I take this note to be more discreet than announcing it aloud to your Slytherin peers._

_Sincerly,  
_ _Noshiko Yukimura_

“Who’s Yukimura?” Derek asked, reading over his shoulder.

“New Transfiguration professor,” Lydia answered in a bored tone. “What? You guys didn’t know?”

“Why would we know that?” Jackson asked his girlfriend.

She rolled her eyes, “Because we passed by her compartment when doing patrols? She’s the only other adult on this train. A baby could have figured it out.”

“Whoever she is,” Stiles interrupted before Lydia could insult them again, “She knows what happened to us last term.”

“Well Deaton was the one who hired her,” Boyd said. “Maybe she’s going to keep an eye on Harris for us.”

The pack agreed, except Stiles, but he didn’t voice his disagreement. Because if that was true, this letter would have been addressed to everyone or at least Derek seeing as he was the Alpha. But no, this was just him. He stowed the letter in his pocket.

Derek was the only one to sense his discomfort as the pack continued their own conversations and grew rambunctious. He leaned into Stiles’ space. “You ok?”

Stiles nodded and leaned into Derek. “I’m fine.” Stiles bit his lip, wondering if he should tell Derek. He decided not to and smiled. “I’m good.” He closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to Derek’s. Almost as if Derek was trying to make Stiles forget, he brought his hand up and cupped Stiles’ neck bringing them closer. Stiles melted into the kiss. Stiles pressed a little harder, moving his lips rhythmically with Derek. Stiles broke the kiss when he felt more content, although that’s when he came to the quick realization of the silence around them.

Stiles hesitantly turned around. The pack watched them with their mouths hung open. Stiles didn’t know what to say so he mimicked their faces. Derek meanwhile was stiff as a board and if Stiles’ peripheral vision was any good, the tips of Derek’s ears were blushing.

Merlin, Stiles didn’t know how long the silence lasted, but Lydia was the first to break it. “What the holy hell was that?”

“Uh,” Stiles made some weird noise at the back of his throat. “A kiss?”

Lydia smirked. “Damn right it was.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Pay up everyone, c’mon.”

The pack all groaned. Meanwhile, Stiles and Derek had no clue on what was going on as the pack began to shout.

“No way,” Boyd interrupted. “The bet was under two jurisdictions, when they got together and when they would tell us.”

“That’s right,” Erica shouted. “When did you two get together?” She asked the pair.

“No wait, hold on!” Scott stood up. “Don’t tell us. I don’t want anyone changing their answers. Where the hell did I leave the betting sheet?”

“Oh I have it!” Cora announced. “It doesn’t have the betting numbers though. Who kept the tally and money?”

“Allison, did remember?” Isaac said. “She’s the only one of us least likely to cheat.”

“I have it somewhere,” She said. She stood up and reached for her trunk. She pulled out a sack of coins and a long sheet of parchment.

“Ok they would reveal their relationship first day of sixth year, goes to Lydia.” Allison said, reading the list.

“Now wait a minute,” Danny interjected. “It’s technically not the first day, classes haven’t started yet. Read mine Allison.”

“Relationship revealed on a train ride.” She read.

Danny cheered. “Sorry, Lyds. That money is mine.”

Lydia crossed her arms over chest. “Whatever. We still have the second part. Again, when did you two get together.”

Stiles sat in his seat dumbfounded. Instead of answering like the pack wanted, he shrieked, _“What the hell? You guys knew?”_

Scott chuckled. “You two were pretty obvious.”

“Obvious!” Stiles voice cracked. “Nobody said anything.”

“No duh,” Jackson said pretentiously. “That’s the whole reason for the fucking bet, you idiot.”

Stiles felt his eye twitch. “How were we obvious?

Erica grinned and licked her teeth. “Well by obvious we mean at some point or another all of us have caught you doing some mushy thing since last term or making out. Some of us have caught you making out more than others.”

Stiles felt his face grow hot. “What?!”

“Your bed reeked of Derek,” Jackson supplied unhelpfully.

Scott sat across from his friend and placed a hand on Stiles’. “Dude, I saw you do things with your mouth that a best friend should never be subjected to watching.”

“Or a little sister,” Cora gagged.

As Stiles fumbled with his words, Derek found his. He shut his eyes for a long second then turned to Stiles. “I’m going to safely assume this is what you were forgetting to do.”

Stiles looked at Derek, “Fuck.” Derek was right. They had forgotten to tell their friends. Stiles was going to tell them before fifth year ended, but he had gotten distracted by the events.

“Enough talking about Stiles making out,” Boyd announced. “That is not something, I even want to think about. Just tell us when you two got together.”

“Easter Holidays.”

Cora and Isaac cried out in triumph, while the other members groaned.

“Damn,” Lydia muttered. “I was sure you two had been screwing since fourth year.”

“Lydia!” Stiles found himself crying out in embarrassment.

Stiles slouched in his seat as watched as Cora, Isaac, and Danny split the money between them.

“I can’t believe,” Stiles stuttered. “They would do something as crazy as this.”

“Really?” Derek faced him. “Cause I can.”

“I say we make out right here and now to get back at them.”

Derek leaned in to whisper in Stiles’ ear, “Don’t worry. I have a better idea.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“They are going to get the worst prefect rounds route for a month.”

Stiles grinned. “Merlin, you’re amazing.” Stiles was about to lean in when Erica shouted.

“Hey, Stiles! You break our Alpha’s heart and I’ll bend you over and claw out your asshole and hand it to you.” She snarked.

“Yeah,” Isaac agreed. “I’ll wrap it up in a box and bow all nice and pretty for you.”

Stiles swallowed and nodded. Then Boyd topped it off with a nice, “Just remember things tend to blow up when I use Charms.”

Stiles gulped.

**  
**  


|~~***~~|

Stiles barely listening to Morell calling up the new students to be sorted. He was too busy glaring daggers at Harris. The twat was calmly sitting in his seat staring up ahead, playing the innocent card. Stiles was so tempted to hex him.

“Woah.” Danny nudged his shoulder. “Who are they?”

Stiles stared at the door by the staff table. There was an elegant Japanese woman in her late forties or early fifties. Her hair was in an elegant wavy bun. She wore robes to the like that Stiles had never seen before. They were floral green robes over a sleek white one. Her entire garment seemed to be heavy, but the woman walked with grace even in her strange wooden shoes. She directed a group of thirteen, different aged students. They were dressed similarly to her, but their robes were much more bland. They were baggy and both the girls and boys had a strange long skirt that came under their chest.

The students walked in quietly and in a single file line. All of them carried a poise and maturity that many Hogwarts students could never even dream to obtain.

“Now to our new first years, welcome, to our old students, welcome back!” Deaton said from his podium. “Another year full of magical education awaits you. Although, as I am sure most of you have noticed. Our Transfiguration Professor, Jennifer Blake is on an indefinite leave of absence.”  

Jackson and Stiles snorted from the Slytherin table.

“As such, I am pleased to welcome a new member of staff this year. Professor Yukimura,” The woman laid her arms gracefully at her sides and bowed. So that’s who he was supposed to talk to. “Has graciously accepted the position of our new Transfiguration Professor. She has come out of retirement from her position as Transfiguration Professor in Japan’s wizarding school, Mahoutokoro.”

Stiles watched as the other thirteen students stepped behind their professor. “Professor Yukimura has brought a few exchange students that will be here for the remainder of the year.” All the students simultaneously bowed. “As such, the students will be sorted into Hogwarts houses. Professor Morrell?”

The Herbology Professor unrolled a different parchment and read off the names, “Kageyama, Tobio.” A tall lanky Japanese boy with menacing eyes that could rival even Derek’s, stepped forward and sat on the stool.

The hat quickly sorted him into Slytherin. When he sat down at the table, several of the girls surrounded him. Stiles overheard that he was a fifth year.

Stiles turned back to the students, fascinated by their sudden arrival.

|~~***~~|

Kira Yukimura fumbled with her hakama robes as she watched her fellow students get sorted. She didn’t know what the houses represented, but many of them entered Slytherin or Ravenclaw. She fretted getting sorted. She fretted coming here. None of her fellow students were in her same age group, nor did she know them. She was already worried she wouldn’t make any friends. Honestly, she did not want to come here, but her mother had casually informed her during the summer that she would be attending Hogwarts. That their mission required it. Kira did not understand how her mission would bring her all the way to Scotland.

The dark skinned woman called her name and Kira stepped forward. She sat down.

She jumped a little as she heard the voice in her head.

_Interesting...I’ve never sorted a kitsune before._

_“What? How do you know that? What are you?”_

_Ah sharp mind from the start, but we aren’t here to look at the mechanics of my head; we are here to look at yours, yes? Alright, then let’s have a look…_

Kira got the distinct sensation of being invaded and probed, it wasn’t painful but highly uncomfortable.

_Well, well. You’ve certainly participated in your fair share of heroics. An image of Kira slashing her katana to kill the spirit passed through her head. Quite brave and daring of you._

_“It had to be done to protect the temple and town.”_

_A strong sense of duty to your people, interesting._

_“Excuse me, but uh what does each house represent?”_

The hat told her. Kira frowned. She wasn’t sure how she fit into any of them. The other students seemed a lot more suited to do this than she did.

_You’re not very strong are you?_

_“What?”_

_Another image passed through her mind of her struggling to slash a spirit twice her size._

_Some would call what you do heroic, but no. There’s thought and effort. An ah, what’s this?_

Kira saw herself tend to a spirit and nurture it back to health.

_It killed humans but you still took care of it?_

_“It deserved another life where they could do better.”_

Kira wasn’t sure if hats could smile, but that’s what it felt like. _I know where to put you._

“RAVENCLAW!”

Kira jumped at the booming voice. The dark skinned woman removed the hat from her head and Kira went to her designated spot. She sat next to a girl with strawberry blonde hair. Kira’s nose twitched. She glanced shyly over and noticed the scent of decay and overall death lingered around her. The girl in question though had no qualms of openly scrutinizing her up and down. Kira felt self-conscious and tried not to move.

“I’m Lydia Martin,” she spoke.

Kira bowed her head and remembered that Westerners introducers themselves by first names, “I’m Kira Yukimura.” Kira then blushed. “Ah, but you already knew that cause I just got sorted and all that. But it is still common courtesy to introduce yourself I think in Western culture, well every culture I think. First impressions are important so—”

Lydia cut off her ramble. “That’s an interesting bracelet you have there.”

Kira looked down at her left wrist. Her bracelet was made of wooden beads, each bead carved with it’s own kanji. “It's a translator bracelet.”

“You don’t speak English?”

Kira shook her head. “No. I speak Japanese and Korean. My English is really bad.”

“Huh. Do you speak archaic latin?”

“I can read some Old Japanese script from the Nara period.”

“Interesting.”

The girl then flipped her long hair over shoulder and began to converse with the other Ravenclaws. Kira remained in her seat silently, and tried not to draw attention to herself as she ate.

|~~***~~|

The Slytherin students crowded at one end of the common room and eyed Professor Yukimura with either awe or suspicion. The woman glanced around the room. Her back was to the massive, elaborately-carved fireplace. Her eyes wandered to each student and then settled on Stiles for one brief moment. Stiles found himself sitting straight on the ottoman in front of Jackson.

“Is everyone in?” She asked, as the portrait swung shut. The calculating students regarded her steadily. “Good. Now as I am sure many of you are aware, I will now be your new Head of House.”

“How can you even be Head of Slytherin, you know nothing of it.” A daring seventh year told her.

“I know plenty. You are the House of power, determination, cunning, and ambition. It is truly an honor to be leading such clever students as yourselves.”

“Cut with the flattery.” A fifth year shot at her.

“Oh? I thought that was one of the rules you taught your first years?”

Stiles fought the urge to snicker.

“But from what your Headmaster has informed me this House seems to be lacking in it’s fraternity. Your previous Head was not the most passionate of mentors and did not foster the camaraderie of your strong House. You can be certain that I will help you regain it.”

“Please,” A pureblood Slytherin girl hollered. “Like a random witch has any idea of the intricacies of the Slytherin House. I want Blake back! She understood that we liked our space and distance because she knew better than to intermingle purebloods with half bloods, stupid mudbloods,” Her eyes fell on Jackson, “And _blood traitors._ ” The girl broke off as Professor Yukimura flicked a silencing charm in her direction—a powerful one that the girl staggered back against the arm of the sofa.

“You will not speak such words. Ever.”

Stiles felt a shiver run down his spine as Yukimura kept her voice pleasant and calm.  

The girl panicked as her and her friends tried to find the counter-spell.

“You will regain your glory.”

“We won the Quidditch Cup last year,” Jackson commented snootily behind him.

“But not the House Cup.” She said with a smile. “In decades.” Every Slytherin looked a bit sheepish. “I’m glad we are all on the same page then. Tomorrow, I expect everyone to be on their best behavior and look out for each other. You are dismissed.”

The Slytherins rose and everyone headed to their dormitories. Stiles stayed behind.

Yukimura smiled at him, “I presume you are Mr. Stilinski. Good. Follow me.”

Stiles stood and trailed behind the woman’s long robes. She led him into Blake’s old office. He was glad to see that everything of hers had been removed, all that remained were piles of boxes filled with books and other sorts that had yet to be unpacked. “Sit. Mr. Stilinski. Would you like some tea?”

Stiles knew it would be rude to decline the offer. “Yes, please.”

Stiles watched her pour the tea with her delicate hands instead of her wand. She handed it to him in a ceramic Japanese cup.

“You must be wondering why I asked to meet with you, Mr. Stilinski.”

“That’s kind of stating the obvious.”

“Well, Alan Deaton has informed me that you are a Moonwalker and he has searched for a very long time for someone to train you.”

Stiles nearly dropped his tea. “You’re a Moonwalker too?!”

She smiled, “No. But I knew a Moonwalker. I met him _several_ years ago. I used to watch him train and sometimes help. Sadly, he has passed away.” Stiles felt his throat clench. “The news of his death upsets you.”

He licked his lips, “Did he die of natural means or was it because of his Moonwalker magic?”

“Natural means of course.” Her eyes narrowed. “Why would you assume his Moonwalker magic killed him?”

Stiles’ eyes fell to his tea. “Um no reason.”

“Mr. Stilinski, I am afraid you are a terrible liar. And sadly, I must inform you that you have every right to assume that. Back in June, Deaton told me you and your pack nearly died. And that you nearly killed your Alpha.”

“I don’t want to be rude, but where the hell are you going with this?”

“Are you aware of the Moonwalker stages?” She asked deflecting the question.

“Yes, but what does that have to do with—”

“—The first stage is merely a trial period. The second is where your range of powers increases at an alarming learning rate. And the third is where you kill werewolves.”

“I don’t—” Stiles paused, remembering distinctly he had almost killed Derek with his magic. “Wait a sec. I couldn’t have activated the third stage. That’s pretty impossible since I’m sure I didn’t decide to take a nice bath in werewolf blood!”

“But you were ordered to kill a werewolf with your magic and the only way to do that is in it’s third stage.”

“And I’m telling you I didn’t activate it!” He slammed his tea cup on her desk.

She wasn’t the least bit fazed. “Mr. Stilinski, you are a bright student.  You know there is more than one way to do a spell or a potion.”

“I know that, but they never come out correctly.”

“Exactly.” She smiled.

Stiles’ eyes wandered to the edge of the desk and then back at her. “So are you saying I activated the third stage incorrectly?”

“I think you might have partially awoken it. But not activated it, it might explain your heat spells when near the werewolves.”

“How did you—?”

“Because the same thing happened with my friend. He awakened the magic incorrectly by performing third stage magic when still in his second stage. We had a group of werewolves as friends and each time he got near one, he would collapse in a heat stroke. Thankfully, he was able to get rid of that symptom and prevented his children, who I helped as well, avoid that pain.”

Stiles knew where this was going, “I am not going to murder a werewolf so I can be healthy again.”

“No. You don’t need to. I mean you are welcome to. I’m positive that would cure your ailment, but I am here to train you. You see, at the moment your magic is like a window that doesn’t shut correctly. There’s a draft coming inside the room, the draft is your third stage magic trying to get inside. The draft is convulting the temperature inside the room. The room is trying to regulate itself but each time a draft passes it bangs up against the window and ruins the effort. You need to open that window until the wind passess.”

Stiles was outraged at what she was suggesting, “I am not using my Moonwalker magic.”

“Whether you want to or not you need to train with me, you will die if you don’t.”

“I don’t care. I’m not using it again. I nearly killed Derek. I can live through a few heat spells.”

She narrowed her eyes. “The longer you go without training, the more you will suffer. Being in close contact with the werewolves will cause your magic to go berserk. Soon you will be having heating spells on a daily basis, and then every few hours, and then you won’t even need to be in contact with werewolves to feel them. It will eat away at you until you die.”

“I know that!” Stiles shouted. “I saw it happened to my mother.”

“Then you know the death isn’t pretty. It’s slow and painful. And as a mother myself, I can guarantee that she wouldn’t want you to do this to yourself.”

“My mother didn’t want me to be a Moonwalker. I’ll follow her wishes and I’ll follow mine. I am not going to ever use my magic again.” He stood from the seat and walked to the door. “I’ll find a way to get through it on my own.”

Her lips thinned. “Well, you know where my office is. I’ll expect to see you soon.”

Stiles jaw clenched. He shook his head. “No, you won’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah!! So I wrote this chapter while waiting in lines at KCON. If anyone would like to see random stuff and clips I have them on [MY TUMBLR](http://twinklingpaopufruit.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter immensely, I worked on it really hard. My favorite part was writing Yukimura, she is so sassy. 
> 
> Here is a link to everyone's [OWL SCORES](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1idPBODg26VVD5fQycnAMKn2TCb59W0CGdFyejLASpAA/edit?usp=sharing) and what classes they will be taking. Can someone please tell me if the link works. 
> 
> Here is a link to [STILES ROBES](http://img9.ph.126.net/KW3VzKTwofyJKl6EtqiF2g==/1090997009747981559.jpg) similar and just imagine the cape blue
> 
> The pygmy puff idea goes to [deep-expression-00](http://deep-expression-00.tumblr.com/). I know you wanted pink but I thought a nice [MINT](https://c1.staticflickr.com/7/6194/6065383074_0e2ee0fb7e_b.jpg) would suit Derek’s eyes nicely.
> 
> Uh about Brett, so I’m not watching this season. All I know from it is from gifs on tumblr is that he is lowkey sassy and bi. So I’m sorry he might be different from the show.  
> Kudos to anyone who catches my anime reference! I couldn’t help myself. 
> 
> Here is a link to [YUKIMURA’S ROBES](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/98/a1/67/98a167c03c2072d67caa24cd28b76b30.jpg)
> 
> Oh and from what I gathered on gifs, I call total bullshit that Kira does not know Japanese or Korean, I don’t care it’s because kitsunes have trouble with language, Davis isn’t even following the complicated lore with them. I just find it hard to believe that her parents being so cultured, their home is very Asian influences, her dad is a history junkie would not teach her their native tongues. Like I could believe she would have trouble writing in Kanji and Hangul, but not to speak it, I’m sorry that’s just not believable for me. Anyway, some might be questioning why I placed Kira in Ravenclaw...you can see it on my [CHARACTER PROFILES](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1369558). But if anyone wants an extended explanation I would be happy to give it. Also as a side note, the reason Kira was not there before because I had no idea she would be playing a major role in my story.
> 
> And I think that’s it. Next upload might be delayed I’m going to study for the teacher credentialing test and I really need to pass that on my first try cause I spent a lot of money.
> 
> But yeah. Tell me what you think on the message below. And thanks for everyone who is reading my story. You are all awesome!!


	46. Heat Stroke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles tries to forget his heat strokes and continue on as normal, meanwhile Scott is attempting to still have control during the full moons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suicide trigger ahead, if you would not want to read skip from (“You alright Stiles?” Morrell asked.) to ("You say you have nightmares?” Stiles blurted out.)

Stiles eyes flew open and the first thing he saw was Jackson on the opposite bed. Stiles did his best to mimic Jackson's slow breathing. He inhaled and the breath stuttered with the beat of his pulsing heart. Stiles rolled over until his face was squished against his pillow. His favorite pillow bended the bridge of his nose at an awkward angle. It became difficult to breathe but it forced his body to take even deep breaths. When Stiles was sure the jitters across his skin had faded, he stretched both his limbs under his pillow, searching for his wand. Lazily, he cast a tempus spell. His neck cracked as he lifted his head. The clock over his head was distorted. The second hand was stuck at thirteen seconds and the hour hand was pointing toward both eleven and five. Knowing, it couldn’t possibly be eleven, Stiles deduced it was five o’clock in the morning.

That wasn’t that bad.

With his Dreamless Sleep Potion officially out, he had expected to wake in a screaming fit around two in the morning. Maybe the nightmares would be easier in Hogwarts, knowing that all his friends were safe.

He ran a hand through his hair. His nose scrunched as his fingers caught on a tangle. He waved his hand until the tangle released its hostage.

Deciding that sleep was futile, Stiles got up from bed to take a shower. He stretched, looking around the room. Their dormitory had changed upon their arrival. Either Deaton had removed the beds or Hogwarts itself was aware that they would only be needing three beds this year. On Stiles’ right, Jackson slept while Danny was across from them. The dormitory felt much too big for them, something the boys’ tried not to comment on last night.

Stiles rolled his neck and went to his trunk to grab his towels and toiletries. Stiles hands immediately clenched against the lid of his suitcase. Sitting upon his newest robes was the Moonwalker book and the pendant. Stiles hadn’t meant to bring that to school. The only reason it was there was because Derek had charmed everything into his trunk yesterday morning. Stiles took a calm breath. He grabbed the book and pendant and steadily walked over to the small bench by the window with a view of the lake. He placed them both under the cushions. Without looking at them again, Stiles grabbed his things and went to take a long cold shower.  

Stiles was happy that he had remembered to cast a cooling spell on his skin before heading to the Great Hall for breakfast. Erica hung off his shoulder as she compared their schedules at the Slytherin table. Herbology was first on their list. The other werewolves were seated around him.

“Ooh joy! Guess who has Potions on a Monday.” Stiles muttered.

Scott sitting across from him, took Stiles’ schedule with his maple covered fingers. “Hey we have Transfiguration together today.” He handed back the schedule. Great, another thing Stiles was positively _excited_ for.

“I have her first thing today.” Derek said, sitting on his left. He passed Stiles some pumpkin juice before Stiles could voice for him to pass it.

“Thanks.”

“How do you guys think she’s going to be as a teacher?” Boyd questioned.

“Brilliant, most likely.” Lydia stated, as she wrote a letter to her mother, while calmly eating a bagel. “I’ve read about her before and she’s incredible. She’s come up with a few spells herself and she’s taught nearly every wizard in the past two decades in Japan whose wanted to be a Transfiguration Master.”

“Here’s hoping she’s not as scary as a certain fox.” Isaac crossed his fingers.

“I wouldn’t count that out.” Danny said. “Last night she cast a really strong _silencio_ on a student for using the m-word. I heard that poor Jenny couldn’t break it. She had to apologize to Yukimura this morning to get the counter-spell.”

“Ouch.” Scott said distastefully.

Jackson smirked. “The girl deserved it. And Yukimura proved to the House with that little act, she’s a real Slytherin.”

“What about the other kids?” Allison asked. She glanced as two of the Japanese students went to go sit at the Ravenclaw table.

Lydia finished chewing before answering, “Cliquish.” Allison and Jackson snorted at Lydia’s distatestful sneer, as if she was one to talk.

“I can see that,” Boyd pointed his fork subtly to the Ravenclaw table. Everyone turned much too obviously to where Boyd was pointing. The two Japanese students that Allison had seen, sneered at another foreign exchange student sitting at the edge of the Ravenclaw table. The short Japanese girl kept to herself as she ate alone. The girl sensed she was being watched. Her eyes glanced up. Upon noticing the stares, her eyes shook. She quickly went back to eating but she was fidgeting too much. In less than a minute she packed her things and left the Great Hall.

“Weird.” Stiles commented, watching her go.

He turned to his boyfriend, who was staring at the door from where she had left. Derek smirked then went back to eating.

Stiles could not ask what was so amusing because a Hufflepuff girl appeared in front of him. Stiles remembered her as Jessica Bartlett, who he had met at Gambol and Japes.

“Is it true?” She directed at him. Her hands were on her hips, demanding an answer.

Erica on his right, snorted and then grinned mischievously, that could not be good.

Stiles looked at the impatient girl. “Uh...what is?”

“That you’re dating Derek Hale?”

Stiles head threatened to fall of his body from shock. Derek nearly choked. He drank some of Stiles’ pumpkin juice.

“I’m sorry what?”

“Are you dating Derek Hale? Erica said you were and frankly I don’t believe her.”

Stiles eyes narrowed and he managed a strangled, “Uh...yes?”

The girl’s brows furrowed. Stiles could hear shrill giggles from the Hufflepuff table. He tried not to look over because he knew he would die of embarrassment.

“Oh my god! You were right?” She shouted at Erica.

“I told you,” Erica bit her lip coyly. “Their hands were all over each other on the train.”

“Erica,” Derek grinded his teeth.

Jessica then giggled. “So unfair though. Just when Stiles gets hot he gets snatched by the other hottest boy in school.”

Stiles choked on his spit. Oh Merlin! Hufflepuffs and their stupid unfiltered mouths! Wait. _What?_

“I’m hot?!” Stiles shouted at the same time Jackson rebuked, “Derek is not the hottest boy in this school.”

Jessica turned to Jackson. Her eyes raked him over. “You’re too pretty to be hot.” Jackson didn’t know who to direct his anger to, since Danny and Lydia cracked up.

“No! Hold up, bring this back to me,” Stiles arms began to wave around. Erica and Derek slid away from him. “Since when has my name ever been in the same sentence as the word hot? Not counting the time I caught fire second year in Potions or from Erica’s sucky charm spells that exploded in my face. Seriously guys! I’m hot?!”

_“Kinda hard not to notice.”_

Everyone’s head snapped to the end of the table to where Brett Talbot had spoken. He caught Stiles’ gaze and slowly slid a sausage into his parted lips.

Stiles eyes went wide and he began to stutter random syllables. Derek slid back next to him until their sides were flush.

“Down boy,” Cora smirked at her brother. “Nothing is gonna happen. Although I think Stiles might be dying.”

Stiles currently had his face in his hands.

“The school can thank me for Stiles’ new look,” Jackson muttered. “Derek, you owe me.”

Derek shot him a glare and Stiles tried to pretend the entire school was not looking at them.

|~~***~~|

“You know what’s worse than catching the scent of utter depression?” Cora groaned. “You being excitably happy. It’s nauseating.”

“Sorry. I forget you're allergic to emotion.” Scott teased.

“I’m not. I have a sensitive nose for dogs, who still act like puppies.”

Scott laughed and kicked his feet in front of him. “I can’t help it. Monday mornings in DADA? Can you think of a better way to start your day?”

Cora stretched her arms over their desk. “You mean besides sleeping or playing Quidditch?”

“Yeah but those are leisure activities. This is DADA!”

Cora stared wide eyed at Scott, “Did you seriously place DADA over Quidditch.”

Scott beamed and rolled his eyes, “I didn’t. They are two different activities. Not comparable in any shape or form.”

“Good. Cause I would have to revoke your status as co-captain. Which reminds me, we need to set up trials for two new Chasers. Next Friday at three sound good to you?”

“Isn’t that the day of the—” Scott trailed off, remembering the full moon.

“Shit. Um Saturday?”

“Make that Sunday. It will give me time to rest.”

Cora side-eyed him. “You still flipping out?”

“I was better last time, but it’s no harm to double check.”

“Sounds good. We are not losing the Quidditch Cup this year.”

“Hell no,” Scott agreed. He glanced at the clock hanging over the class as they waited for Professor Argent to arrive.

“Why is your dad late?” Lydia shot behind them. Cora and Scott turned around where Allison and Lydia were sitting.

Scott fought the urge to sigh at seeing Allison. He could still remember last year, sitting next to her on the first day of classes and falling madly in love. But he wasn’t in love with her. He was over her, or at least trying to pretend he was. Cora snuck a glance at him. Scott shook his head.

“He said he was going to go to the forest before classes. I don’t know what for though.” Allison answered.

She looked at Scott and gave him a kind smile. Usually those smiles would make Scott’s heart flutter, but he kind of just felt an ache inside. He knew Allison was trying to just be friends with him and Scott was grateful for it, knowing that she still wanted to be friends. But, he kind of didn’t want anything to do with her at the same time. It was a little rude of him he knew, but he still felt like he needed time to heal.

Scott’s head went to the door as he heard Argent’s familiar boots. As he entered the classroom, one of the foreign exchange students sorted in Ravenclaw, stood up hastily, knocking over her chair. He recognized her as the awkward girl from breakfast. She was about to bow but when she noticed everyone in the class remained seated and was looking at her, she hastily picked up her chair and sat back down. Scott watched as she buried her face in her desk.

Professor Argent continued as if nothing had happened. “Good morning class.”

“Good morning Professor Argent,” Scott and the rest of the students chimed.

“Congratulations to all of you who passed your OWLs in Defense Against the Dark Arts. It thrills me to note that nearly all of you passed. As a treat, we will start a tradition. Like last year, I want all of you to put your books away and pick up your bags.”

The students looked thrilled at the prospect of dueling for the first day. They were ready to vanish the desks like last time. “Oh, that won’t be necessary.” Professor Argent said. “As I said, we are starting a tradition. Hopefully. We will have class outside today.”

The students went into quick chatter at the prospect of class outdoors.

“DADA is starting to look good now, doesn’t it?” Scott nudged Cora.

“Whatever,” She shoved him.

The students followed Chris Argent out onto the castle grounds. He led them far. When they reached, the edges of the forest, Greenberg voice rose in panic, “Are we going into the Forbidden Forest?”

“Yes we are Mr. Greenberg.” Argent answered.

“Is that safe?”

“Yes. I’ve set up wards. Nothing dangerous will get past them,” He snuck a glance at the pack. Scott sighed in relief.

The Ravenclaws and Gryffindors all piled into a large clearing. Several students threw their bags to the side.

“Today’s lesson is a little unconventional,” Argent spoke. “Your skills learned from last year will be put to the test.” From his robes he pulled out red and blue handkerchief. “These are your flags.” He handed them out to Scott and Lydia. “The objective of this lesson is to hide your flags in the woods. There is a clear golden barrier you will see that marks the edge of the wards. You are not allowed to step outside them. You can hide the flag anywhere but I suggest you hide it well, as the other team will be looking for it. First team to capture the other’s flag without losing theirs, wins a prize at the end.”

All the students grinned.

Lydia’s hands shot into the air. “What if someone just summons the flag?”

“The flag repels all summoning charms and anything that it is attached to, to avoid situations for you more creative folk.” Chris Argent glanced at the Ravenclaws. “You can defend your flag by using any dueling spell we learned last year.” He took a step back and took out a pocket watch from his robes. “You each have five minutes to hide your flag. Your time starts now.”

The students gasped. They scrambled like roaches in opposite directions, the Gryffindors to the right and the Ravenclaws to the left.

“Where should we hide our flag?” Heather asked while she ran with the others. Several of the Gryffindor boys lagged behind her. Cora gave them her best death-glare and told the boys to run up front and stop looking up Heather’s skirt.

“There’s a lot of caves,” Danielle answered, shooting the boys a glare too.  

“No, that’s too contained.” Allison said, “If we have to duel to defend the flag, one of the spells might rebound off the walls and hit us.”

The Gryffindors reached the edge of the barrier. “How bout a tree?” Sean suggested. He pointed upwards at a tall oak tree. He grinned at Heather, “C’mon. You’re the lightest out of all us. I’ll give you a lift. Just go up and tie it.”

“If you think I’m going to climb a tree in a skirt!” Heather began.

“I’ll do it!” Scott shouted to avoid the inevitable fight. He glanced at the tree. The first branch was too high for normal humans to jump to. Scott knew he could do it, but he didn’t want to use any of his werewolf abilities in front of the others. He jumped twice to feign struggle before he turned to his roommates. “A little help guys?”

Sean and Bennett cupped their palms and crouched low. Scott gripped their shoulders and tested their locked hands before stepping completely.

“Fuck, you weigh a ton!” Sean complained. “I feel like I’m carrying a cow.”

“You carry a lot of cows, Sean,” Bennett grinned and winked.

Sean let go of one of his hands to flip his friend off. “Haha fuck you.”

“Hey watch it guys.” Scott complained as he was close to falling. “Just a bit more.”

The two boys tried to lift him higher, but obviously they were struggling enough as it was.

“Oh c’mon.” Danielle groaned. She stomped forward and cupped Scott’s ass.

“Woah!” Scott shouted as he was lifted those extra few inches. He gripped the branch and pulled himself up.

“Place it on the third one!” Cora shouted from below. “We don’t anyone getting it.”

“We need a plan to get their flag,” Bennett said.

Allison placed her hands on her hips. “Since Ravenclaw doesn’t have many strong duelists. I think a large number of us can overpower them. So the majority of us, I think, should go and the strongest stay here.”

“So you and Scott?” Bennett asked.

Allison glanced awkwardly at the werewolf. “No, I think Cora and Scott. She’s quicker than I am.”

“Ok so the rest of us?” Another Gryffindor questioned.

“You guys come with me. I’ll explain on the way.” Allison left jogging with the other Gryffindors.

When they could no longer see them, “Ok they’re gone. You can come down now,” Cora shouted.

Scott lifted his arms as if prepared to fly. He fell in one swoop. He thunked hard on the ground.

“Very dramatic,” Cora rolled her eyes.

Scott shrugged bashfully.

|~~***~~|

Kira watched as Lydia was able to get a small baby Thestral near them. The creatures seemed to like her which probably had to do with that weird aura of death hanging around her. Kira wondered what Lydia was and was determined to research it later. Lydia tied the flag into a neat bow on the Thestral’s neck.

“Lydia what are you doing?” Kara Simmons asked, unable to see the winged horse. Kira nearly forgot that the majority of people couldn’t see the creatures. Her kitsune powers tended to see and smell anything close to the spirit world.

“Tying our flag to a Thestral. Let’s see them try to capture one.” She straightened. The thestral ran off in the opposite direction.

“Uh Lydia,” Greenberg said. “There goes our flag.”

“I know.” She removed her tie and transfigured it into an identical flag. “Remember Argent said anything goes. Ok, knowing Gryffindor all of them are going to come charging at us. We need everyone here guarding the flag.”

Kira stared at Lydia. She was in awe how the beautiful girl commandeered such a large group of students. Kira found herself listening intently to her, “Allison is most likely going to lead the front.” Lydia continued. The Ravenclaws gulped. Kira didn’t understand, but she pieced together that Allison was probably Gryffindor’s skilled duelist.

“Harley, Greenberg. You two have the best shield charms. If you keep them up, Allison won’t be able to get near. Kara aim for Sean with all you got. Bennett has a weak spot for him, you’ll be able to take both of them quickly. Once you take them down, keep an eye on Danielle and Heather. They’re not the best duelists but all their spells pack a punch. The other Gryffindors are more run and charge so the rest of you just outsmart them. Does everyone understand?”

Kira bit her bottom lip and spoke up quietly. “I don’t know who any of those people are.”

“That’s fine,” Lydia smiled. “You will be coming with me to capture the flag. Scott and Cora should be the only one’s there.”

Kira nodded. She fumbled for her wand and chased after the petite girl. The two walked in silence for what Kira felt like forever. Kira never did well with silences.  

“Uh do you know where they could have gone?” Kira asked her.

“No, but they are predictable. It’s probably toward the end of the barrier. If we follow it, we should find them.” Lydia stepped gracefully over an upturned root. Kira nearly tripped over it.

“And look, there they are,” Lydia smiled.

Kira looked up. All of her instincts demanded her to flee and hide at the sight of them. Her nose twitched in their presence, bothered by the scent they were releasing.

“C’mon,” Lydia ushered her.

Kira took a deep breath. She had battled spirits; she could handle two teenagers, even if they were werewolves.

As they approached, Lydia was immediately engaged in a wand duel with the other female. Leaving Kira alone with the boy. She took another breath and remembered her training.

|~~***~~|

Scott cheered as Cora took down Lydia with brute force. Although, Lydia being quite clever had Cora falling immobile from a strong enough _petrificus totalus_ to affect even werewolves, before hitting the ground. Scott placed his concentration on the foreign exchange student. He rose his hand in the typical duel stance and expected the girl to do the same. But instead the girl rose her wand over head using both hands as if she was carrying a sword. Scott had never seen someone hold a wand like that. His confusion caused him unable to lift a shield as Kira shot an unfamiliar spell.

 _“Hazumu!”_ She shouted. Green tendrils that resembled snakes slithered from the ground. They wrapped around Scott and soon he couldn’t move as they bound his body like ropes. He still tried to struggle, but again froze as he stared stupidly at the foreign-exchange student. Without any effort, she jumped into the air. Her hands caught the top branch. She grunted as her legs swung back and forth. When she gained enough momentum, she pulled herself up. With a balance Scott had never seen on anyone, she jumped up the other two branches and untied the flag from the branch.

A boom exploded in the sky signaling Ravenclaw had won.

Kira jumped down the tall branch a little more cautiously than Scott had. She gripped the flag a little unsurely but made her way over to Lydia. “Here.”

Lydia looked up at her, “No, you got it.” She went over to Cora and ended the spell.

The four jumped as they heard their professor’s voice echo through the forest. “Congratulations Ravenclaw. Now I ask everyone please return to the clearing.” His voice was cut off with a large screeching sound.

Scott managed to sit up even with the green ropes.

“Oh I’m sorry!” The girl said. She rushed to him and took out her wand. _“Kieru.”_ The green tendrils smoked into the air. Scott stretched his arms before standing.

Before he could compliment her, the girl was already walking quickly away.

“She totally owned your ass,” Cora remarked.

“Lydia owned yours.”

“But it’s Lydia.”

Lydia smiled graciously at Cora for the compliment. Lydia forced Cora to lock arms with her. Cora seemed reluctant but Scott could smell comfort and happiness circle around Cora. He wisely didn’t say anything.

When they arrived back at the clearing, Scott took in the state of the other Gryffindors and Ravenclaws.

“What happened?” Scott asked Allison.

Every inch of her was covered in dirt and twigs as were the other Gryffindors. The hunter glared at the Banshee. “Someone decided to tie the flag to a Thestral.”

Lydia shrugged. “Your dad never said that was illegal.” Allison smiled mockingly at her.

“Alright, everyone gather round!” Professor Argent spoke loudly. “I hope that taught everyone a valuable lesson today. As promised, Ravenclaw your prize is that you are excused from today’s assignment.”

Sean rose his hand, “Was the lesson to learn to avoid eating dirt when you fall? Cause I think I failed that.”

“No, Mr. Long. But let’s go over why you fell.”

“Uh...cause Kara was pissed at me and aimed a stunning spell at my head. My shield spells suck so I knew it would be better to eat dirt.”

“And how did you know it was a stunning spell?”

“Because she said _stupefy_.”

“Exactly. You recognized the spell so you knew the proper way to react.”

“Which is a good thing right?” Bennett questioned. “We hardly got hit because we knew the spells.”

One of the Ravenclaws spoke, “But it was also a disadvantage. While we had a strong defense it didn’t give us a chance to be on the offensive side.”

Professor Argent smiled. “Yes. Being able to hear the spell can be both an advantage and disadvantage.”

“Unless you don’t recognize the spell,” Scott spoke, he looked toward Kira. Professor Argent caught his gaze.

“Ah, Ms. Yukimura did you use Asian based spells to duel with Scott?” The girl shyly nodded. “Do you know any Western spells?”

“A few,” She spoke in a low voice. “Mostly the basics.”

He nodded in understanding, “Well seeing as you will only be staying with us for the year, it is perfectly fine you continue using the spells you learned prior to coming to Hogwarts. But I want you like all the others to learn their spells non-verbally.”

Several of the students gasped. Scott smiled in excitement.

“It is important to learn non-verbal spells. We will be focusing on them heavily this year. On top of that we will touch on several new dark creatures and forces. Remember, the Dark Arts are varied and ever-changing, and eternal. Dark magic is unfixed, mutating, and indestructible.”

“You are saying this as if we are going to be battling the forces of evil,” Sean called out. Several students sniggered.

“Some of you wish to pursue a career as an auror, cursebreaker, unspeakable. My job is to prepare you for the real world.” He took a step back and pulled out his wand. He divided the clearing with a glowing red line.

“I want everyone to get into pairs. One partner will attempt to jinx the other without speaking. The other will attempt to repel the jinx in silence.”

Scott paired up with Cora.

Everyone tried with no success. Within ten minutes, all the Gryffindors whispered the spells under their breath. The Ravenclaws tried to keep some semblance of academic honesty but after the Gryffindors kept hitting them with their cheated spells, they began to voice their spells aloud as well. Naturally though, Lydia managed to repel Allison’s jinx without any sound. Professor Argent awarded Ravenclaw with twenty points.

When the lesson was over, Professor Argent rewarded the Gryffindors with a twelve inch essay on the multiple theories of nonverbal spells. All the Gryffindors groaned but took the assignment, accepting defeat.

|~~***~~|

As per usual, Morrell entered the Herbology Greenhouse wearing beautiful robes. Her navy blue cape hung off her shoulders and cascaded down to the ground. As she stood in front of the students, she removed her cape and let it float to a coat hanger. Underneath she wore form fitting beige robes.

“Good morning students.”

“Good morning Professor Morrell.”

“Well I can’t say I’m surprised that so many of you passed your OWLs.” She complimented the class with a smile. “However, you can expect that this class won’t be easy as so many of you believe. This is now a NEWT level course and I have high expectations for all of you. Now, let’s begin with the lesson. Laid out in front of you are Kicking Chamomiles not to be confused with the herbal chamomile. For today…”

Stiles did his best to focus on Morrell’s lesson. But everything around him was quickly heating up. His eyes passed by Erica, Boyd, Isaac, and Jackson, one by one. The werewolves were making this unbearable and it had only been a few hours since Stiles had cast the cooling spell. He was grateful the Greenhouse was exceptionally hot today so no one really took notice when Stiles was dripping with sweat, since so many other students were too.

When classes ended, Stiles wanted to collapse on top of the Kicking Chamomiles they had trimmed.

“Hey Stiles, ready for lunch?” Erica asked.

No, he wasn’t. Stiles needed a break from the pack. “I’m gonna talk to Morrell. I’ll catch up with you later.”

Erica nodded and left with the others. Stiles had no intention of speaking with Morrell. As soon as the werewolves left, he had planned to cast a strong cooling spell, but once he could no longer feel their presence, Stiles’ temperature decreased significantly. He took a long breath.

“You alright Stiles?” Morrell asked.

“Yeah.”

He watched her place their trimmed Kicking Chamomiles into crates. Perhaps, talking with her would be a good idea. He had promised Melissa after all.

“Actually professor?” Stiles lingered. “Um...I was wondering if I could speak with you?”

Morrell stopped her work for a moment, meeting his eyes. Her brown eyes were unwavering against his. “Of course. I just need to take care of these.”

“Oh, I can help.” Stiles grabbed a few plants and helped her place them in the boxes. Quickly the two packed all of them.

“Grab the boxes and follow me,” She instructed.

Stiles carried three boxes behind her. He set them down where she directed. Morrell then sat on the dusty ground and began to place the plants on the flat fertilized ground. She placed the plant on the fertilized area without digging a hole and Stiles watched carefully as the Kicking Chamomile woke up and then began kicking up dirt. It wiggled and burrowed deep into the ground. Morrell helped it along by patting the earth softly around it.

Stiles sat down and decided to help. On the third Kicking Chamomile, Morrell questioned. “So what did you want talk about?”

Stiles didn’t want to drag it on so he quickly said, "Uh...you know that Deaton brought over Professor Yukimura to train me?"

Morrell smiled slightly, "Yes, it took my brother about about a year and half to find someone to help you. She's not a Moonwalker but she knows the art of it, at least that's what she claimed. Is she not a good teacher?”

"No that's the thing. I don't want her to teach me anything."

"I don't follow. I thought you liked to learn about your Moonwalker magic."

Stiles lazily piled dirt on the plant. "That was before I almost killed Derek."

"Ah. Well if you find that a valid reason to not train with her, I'm sure my brother will understand. She's still a phenomenal Transfiguration Master so it's not as if his search went to waste."

"Except she's making it seem like I have to train with her."

Morrell nearly dropped the Kicking Chamomile. "Did she threaten you?"

Oh crap. Those were ill-chosen words after the Blake fiasco. "No! Nothing like that. She said that I'll die if I don't train with her."

And still bad choice of words as Morrell’s brows scrunched. Her dirt covered hands fell on her lap, smudging her robes.

Stiles stopped working all together. He leaned back and rested his wrists over his bent knees. "Ever since June, I've been having heat spells like my mother did. It feels like I’m burning from the inside and it happens each time I’m near the werewolves. Yukimura says I awakened my third stage of magic incorrectly and now I'm paying the price. The magic is seeping into me; magic that my body has no way of facilitating properly. It's slowly killing me. And the more time I spend with the werewolves, the faster it will happen."

Morrell’s face was unreadable as she said, "So now you're stuck in this dilemma."

"Yeah,” Stiles eyes traced the ground “But I don't really see a downside with it killing me." Stiles froze. Suicide was really only a passing thought. Something he hadn’t meant, and meant to say aloud even less...at least not really.

A silence followed. Stiles hesitantly looked up. He saw Morrell watching him, unblinking. He didn’t know what she thinking. Her face was passive. It carried on forever, but finally Morell blinked. She reached inside her robes for her wand and shut the door to the Greenhouse.

"Stiles, what I am about to tell you is strictly unprofessional. I'm not meant to talk about my private life with the students, a strict boundary must be kept between professor and student, but I'm going to tell you anyway because you are more than my student. Ok?”

The level of trust she was putting in him made Stiles sit straight. He nodded furiously.

"As you know, Alexandros Deucalion was my husband. The night of the ritual, when you had been captured by Kali, you did not see me kill him."

"But I knew." Stiles interrupted.

"Yes, but you didn't see it. It was one of the hardest things of my life—despite it had to be done. Occasionally, I have nightmares because of it. But what I am trying to say is that I killed him out of my own free will, you were cursed and you didn't kill Derek. It doesn't matter if you remember it; it wasn't you. Do not punish yourself for a mistake that wasn’t even yours."

"I know that.” Stiles felt a shout traveling up his throat, “Everyone keeps telling me that. I know that it wasn't me!” He swallowed saliva. “It's what I'm going to become. Like the idiot, I always am, I kept advancing my powers knowing that my magic was meant to kill werewolves. The more I learn, the closer I get to becoming a killer. And what if, I don't know, I lose control of my magic? Wizards with lots of power tend to lose control of it at one point or another."

Morrell regarded him again with that passive face. "But you can't be certain that will happen to you. You're a brilliant wizard, Stiles".

"No. I am certain. I've lost control of my magic twice already and I was only in the second stage. I tried to kill a Banshee when we snuck out of Hogwarts. I tried to kill Blake and I hurt Derek who was trying to stop me from killing her. I wasn't under the influence of a curse then, that was all my magic, that was _me_. So who's not to say that if I train with Yukimura, my magic becomes so good that when I do lose control, I won't have enough time to snap out of it before I do kill someone."

Morrell looked overhead at the glass window panes and then again at him. "So what you're choosing is death?"

"I don’t know. I guess." Stiles mumbled.

Stiles struggled not to flinch as she narrowed her eyes. She wasn’t glaring per say, but her eyes were calculating. "Over something you may or may not know?"

Stiles shrugged.

"Stiles, Yukimura is here to train you. Don't you think that would involve learning control?"

Stiles didn’t mean to raise his voice at her. "What if she can't? What if I can't learn? What if I kill someone! No one is grasping that! I don’t want to kill anyone! I’ll be shipped to Azkaban if I do surrounded by dementors for the rest of my life, listening to the voice of my mother pleading with me as she’s dying. I’ve worked hard to suppress that memory and I don’t want to ever relive it. I don’t want that! I would rather _die_ than face all that shit!"

If Morrell was affected by his voice, she didn’t show it. "Stiles. There hasn't been anything to this day you haven't been able to learn. I am your emissary. I can't let you do this to yourself."

Stiles locked eyes again with her. There was more than sincerity in her. Stiles didn’t know what to identify it as. All he knew was that he didn’t want this woman to have another death on her hands. She had had too many. It would be selfish of Stiles to add to her pile. Swallowing the crippling anxiety, he sighed, "I'll think it over."

The hardness of Morrell’s face soothed into a smile. "That's good. It's progress." She turned back to her Kicking Chamomiles. One of them was struggling to dig a hole. Morrell helped it along.

"You say you have nightmares?” Stiles blurted out.

"Sometimes." Her hands smoothed the fertilizer.

"How do you deal with them?"

"Well, I don't think there's a sure cure that works for everyone." She surmised accurately that he was looking for help on that as well.

"Well what do you do?"

She tilted her head. "Before I go to bed, I remind myself that whatever I dream, is not real. It’s a form of meditation."

Stiles couldn’t image doing that every night. "That's a lot of self control."

"It’s a meditation technique I learned from being in my old pack. Something my mother passed down to me."

"Can you teach me?"

Again her eyes searched his. "Yes, but not now. I have to prepare for my next class and you have to head to lunch."

"Right.” Stiles stood up, shaking the debris from his robes. As he was prepared to leave he turned back to Morrell. “Uh professor? I know that you aren't my Head of House, but I was wondering if I can come come to you when I need to...talk?"

She smiled brightly. "Of course Stiles."

|~~***~~|

To say that the school took Derek and Stiles relationship as a shock would be a bit of an understatement. At times, when Stiles and him walked around school people would point and stare. It wasn’t like they were holding hands or anything, and they very rarely engaged in PDA to begin with, but apparently the school was obsessed with them. They were the gossip of the school: Head Boy dates former loser now reformed Prankster King. He couldn’t count how many times Heather came up to Stiles saying that she was so happy to lose to such an attractive individual as Derek. Derek wasn’t sure whether to take it as a compliment. He just usually glared at her (causing much amusement for both Cora and Erica) wishing she would disappear.

So to avoid such stares, the two were currently in the kitchens enjoying their lunch.

“You think anyone will find us here?” Stiles asked with a mouthful of his ham sandwich. His face scrunched as he saw the pickles. He put them on Derek’s plate.

Derek gladly took them and placed them in his own sandwich. “Not unless Erica says anything.”

“You told Erica?”

“She saw me make my way over here and made one of her usual comments.”

“Ah, let me guess? Crude gestures and all?”

“Yup.”

Stiles laughed. Derek know understood why Erica adored Stiles, he was usually the only one to enjoy Erica’s humor. Derek was indifferent to it, and generally hated when it was directed at him or about him.

“How have your classes been?” Derek asked.

Stiles groaned. Derek was not amused as he saw every little detail of Stiles’ smashed food in his mouth. “Salazar’s Giant Slithering Dick! It’s been fucking insane! Besides being the accomplice to murder, Harris is a giant dick. But we’ve all known that since first year.” He swallowed his food. “He’s making us write a twenty inch essay and we have to turn in a potion by next week. And then Argent, oh Merlin! Because your puppies cheated during capture the flag, we have to write another essay. And there’s Yukimura, who I hate to admit is scarily brilliant is assigning the hardest spells. _I’m_ having trouble doing them. Then there is Finstock. I don’t even want to say anything about him because that class is a nightmare. I think I’m going to be scarred for life.”

“So you’re having a normal week then?” Derek said with a deadpanned expression.

“What? No! Did you even listen to my rant. I’ve been having a terrible first week! Terrible than facing a troll in the forest. Terrible than facing a fucking acromantula!”

“It sounds like a normal sixth year. That’s how it was for me. NEWT courses are a lot harder. And then you decided to take a full course load, you’re bound to be a bit stressed.”

“A bit? I’m like oozing in it. It’s like a fungal infection that’s never going to go away.”

"Thank you for that lovely image."

"Hey, I'm censoring myself for you."

“You call that censoring?”

“Do you want me to go into detail about how this year feels like a yeast infection on the foreskin of your dick?”

Derek dropped his sandwich on his plate, all appetite gone. How he enjoyed this idiot’s company, he would never now. Stiles’ dramatics faded and then his face lit up brightly. Derek had mixed emotions about that expression, it either meant trouble and mischief or an insight into Stiles’ brilliant mind.

“But you know what?” Stiles crawled to Derek. Thankfully, it was the latter. He climbed into Derek’s lap. Derek grunted at the weight. “You know what would calm me down?”

“I have no idea.” Derek played dumb. His broad hands rubbed circles on Stiles’ waist. The Slytherin shivered deliciously on top of him.  

“Then let’s have a demonstration.” Stiles leaned forward.

Derek’s hands tightened almost painfully on Stiles’ waist. “Unless you want to give the elves a show?”

Stiles peeked over his shoulder and looked at the castle elves. Their large creepy beady eyes stared at them. Stiles groaned and climbed off Derek.

“I didn’t say I didn’t want you stop,” Derek stood. “You done eating?”

Stiles grinned. “Hell yeah.” He knocked over a few plates in his haste to stand. Stiles tugged his shirt down, taking quick breaths from his over dramatic exertion. Derek rolled his eyes fondly but chuckled nonetheless.

Stiles and Derek left the kitchens, full intent on finding a place for some privacy. But as they began to head up the stairs, Stiles clutched the railing of the staircase.

“What’s wrong?” Derek placed a concerned hand on his shoulder. This had been happening a lot as of late. Derek kept trying to ask what was happening, but Stiles kept using his Moonwalker magic to lie to him. If Stiles thought using his magic to lie was a good idea, he wasn’t very bright. Derek was always able to smell the Moonwalker magic. It had a very distinct scent.

Like now. However, it was much more potent than usual. The only smell that Derek could assign to it was the stench of burning metal. Honestly, it was disgusting and as the days passed by Derek could smell it more strongly.

It only worried Derek even more. He was close to throwing Stiles over his shoulder and heading to Deaton’s office to find out what the hell was wrong with him.

But Stiles was stubborn.

Derek’s attention diverted for a few seconds as they saw three fourth year Gryffindors rush past them.

“Where are they going?” Stiles asked with a grunt. He stood straight and pretended he wasn’t in any pain.

Derek glared hard at the back of Stiles’ head. _Fine._ “Let’s find out. Hey!” Derek shouted loudly. The Gryffindors didn’t want to stop but when they saw his Head Boy badge, they slowed down. “Where are you headed?” Derek asked.

The tallest of three answered, “There’s a fight.” He grabbed his two friends and they continued running up the staircase.

Stiles and Derek spared a glance at each other before sprinting up the staircase. They found a large group of students gathered in front of the Great Hall. Derek pushed the students out of his way to see the mess. He almost stopped as he heard Stiles’ heartbeat quicken. He quickly looked over his shoulder and saw Stiles fighting to urge to double over.

Derek groaned. He took a deep breath, one problem at a time.  

Isaac was straddling a seventh year Slytherin. Derek at the moment couldn’t remember his name, but even if he could, Derek didn’t think he would be able to recognize him. The teen was bleeding all over his shirt as his broken nose dripped everywhere. Both his eyes were already swollen and Isaac didn’t have any intention of stopping his punches to the Slytherin’s face.

As Derek shouted Isaac’s name, Derek’s eyes fell on Jackson. He was bent over on the ground coughing up slugs while Danny rubbed his back. He saw Malia holding Jackson’s robe to make sure it didn’t get dirty.

“Isaac!” Derek shouted again. It carried a bit of a growl and he hoped no one noticed.

Isaac’s head snapped to Derek. His gaze was ferocious but at at least he wasn’t wolfed out.

“Get off him,” Derek ordered.

Isaac stood slowly. The Slytherin relaxed on the ground from relief.

Derek marched to Isaac. “40 points from Hufflepuff.” Derek said.

“What?” Isaac hollered, getting in Derek’s face. “He attacked Jackson first!”

Derek’s eyes glanced over to Jackson then back to Isaac. “With a harmless spell. Ten points from Slytherin.” He pointed to the Slytherin lying on the floor. “Somebody take him to the Hospital Wing.” One of the Slytherins cautiously went into the fray. They lifted their friend and they left.

Derek looked to Danny. “Danny take Jackson to Morrell, she has a herb that will get rid of the taste when he stops coughing up slugs.” Danny threw Jackson’s arm over his shoulder. He told Malia to leave the robe in the Slytherin Common Room. The two friends left, leaving Isaac.

“He attacked Jackson first!” Isaac repeated. “You can’t take away points from defending him.”

“That wasn’t defense.” Derek said.

“What do you know? You weren’t here to listen to what the stinking pureblood said to Jackson!”

“Isaac. Step back and return to the Hufflepuff Common Room.”

“No.”

“Fine ten more points from Hufflepuff and detention.”

Isaac’s jaw clenched, but he followed his Alpha’s commands. He would deal with Isaac in the common room later.

He faced Stiles again. His heartbeat was quieter and the scent had receded. What the hell was going on with him? Derek became distracted as he smelled his sister and Scott nearby.  

“Why didn’t you two do anything to stop it?” He marched to them.

“I got here same time you did.” Scott said quickly.

Cora shrugged and said without shame. “Guy deserved it. I would have done it if Isaac hadn’t beaten me to it.”

Derek fought the urge to growl. He spun on his heel and directed at the other students littering outside the Great Hall, “Everyone return to what you were doing.”

The students knew better than to argue with the Head Boy much less Derek Hale. Slowly, the crowd dispersed, leaving Derek, Stiles, Scott, and Cora.

“Cora, you should know better than to let Isaac do something like that.” Derek snarled.

She rolled her eyes. “The guy deserved it.”

“I don’t care. Isaac has a lot more strength, if he lost control he could have killed that kid. Then where would Isaac be?”

Cora sighed, “In Azkaban.”

“Exactly. Don’t let that happen to Isaac again.”

“I’m not Isaac’s mother.

“No, but you need to watch out for the pack.”

“Whatever.” Cora pulled her bag strap over her head. “I’m gonna go to Gryffindor Tower. See you guys later.”

Scott and Stiles waved her off.

Derek looked and Stiles and knew the mood from earlier had officially been ruined.

“Hey, I’m gonna go check on Jackson. See you for dinner.” Stiles said.

Stiles didn’t wait for either to say anything and instead made his way to Greenhouse. He saw that Jackson had a bucket between his legs and was still coughing up slugs.

“Morrell said he should be good after another ten minutes,” Danny said as he saw Stiles.

“Where is she?”

“In another greenhouse. She’s preparing for her next class.”

“Oh.” Stiles bent a bit to look at Jackson’s face. He was pale and green across the face. Stiles knew it was redundant to ask if he was ok, so he turned to Danny, “What happened?”

Jackson slapped Danny’s thigh to not say anything. Danny rolled his eyes and as per usual defied Jackson’s orders. “Putting it as nicely as possible, one of the purebloods called Jackson a blood traitor who liked to fuck other blood traitors.” Stiles knew that was as nice as it was going to get. Purebloods and Slytherins definitely had a nasty way with words.

“They found out he’s a werewolf?”

“No, nothing like that. There’s rumors going about that Jackson wants to destroy the pureblood lines.”

“What?” Stiles’ face scrunched.

“Madam Primpernelle,” Jackson managed to say before he caught another slug.

Stiles remembered Jackson’s lie back at the beauty parlor. “I can see why purebloods would hate you for that.”

“Jackson was going to ignore it and we walked away. But the coward, hexed Jackson when his back was turned. Isaac overheard and saw and went crazy. We thought Isaac was going to hex him back but Isaac pinned him to the ground and started wailing on him. You and Derek came in a few minutes later.”

“Fuck.” Stiles looked to Jackson. “I’m surprised you didn’t do anything.”

“Yukimura.” Jackson coughed.

“We knew Yukimura would find out what he said and we knew it would be better if she handled it. I’m sure she’s heard by now and is plotting to have the guy expelled.” Danny finished for Jackson.

“That’s actually smart of you Jackson. I’m surprised you didn’t lash out.”

Jackson flipped him off but it wasn’t intimidating seeing as a slug popped out of his left nostril. It trailed down his chin and landed with a sick squelch on his shirt. Jackson groaned and stood up. The slug splattered on the ground and began traveling to Morrell’s cabbages. Stiles lifted the slug with his wand before it could destroy Morrell’s vegetation.

Meanwhile, Danny took out his wand to help Jackson clean up his dress shirt.

“No,” Jackson shoved Danny’s wand away. “This is expensive fabric. Scouring Charms are too harsh for it.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes. Just leave it.”

Danny rolled his eyes. He turned to Stiles. “Watch him. I’m gonna head to the Slytherin Common Room.”

“Why?” Jackson and Stiles asked in tandem. Jackson coughed out another slug.

“Because I know when he stops hacking, he’ll refuse to be seen with a stain on his shirt.”

Jackson nodded, acknowledging the truth.

Danny rolled his eyes again and left.

Stiles stood awkwardly over Jackson as he coughed out another slug. He turned his attention to the plants instead and checked on the Kicking Chamomiles. After five minutes, Jackson hiccuped. He dropped the bucket and grabbed the plant on his right side of the bench. He tore off a piece and began chewing it.

“I guess you’re done?”

“Fuck off Stilinski.”

Stiles sat beside him. “You ok?”

“I said fuck off.”

“That guy was an asshole. Hateful purebloods are a dying breed.”

Jackson rolled his eyes and bit into the plant again. “I know.”

Stiles nodded awkwardly. “Good.”

“Yeah.”

Well this was awkward. Thankfully, there were saved from having to talk anymore as Boyd walked into the room.

“Hey.” He said.

Jackson acknowledged his presence while Stiles was trying to maintain composure at the sudden burn under his skin.

“I heard what happened.”

“That fast?” Jackson asked.

“It’s Hogwarts.” Boyd offered as explanation. “I brought you a chocolate to get rid of the taste.” Boyd pulled out his backpack a chocolate frog.

“Morrell got me this.”

“That’s more of a disinfectant. Give it a minute and you’ll be asking for the chocolate.” He sat down with them. “You good?”

Jackson rolled his eyes. “Are you going to try to console me too?” Jackson snapped.

“If you’re going to be an asshole about it I can go get Lydia. She was looking for you, I figured you wouldn’t want to be doted by her at the moment.”

Jackson snorted and smirked. “Alright. Hand me the chocolate.”

Stiles felt his heart quicken. The two werewolves eyed him strangely, but Stiles stood and left too quickly for them to ask. He left the greenhouse and began to make his way back to the castle, searching for relief. He groaned when Lydia accosted him in the middle of the courtyard, she was probably looking for Jackson.

“Hey Lydia.”

“Hi.”

“If you’re looking for Jackson—”

“—I’m not. Ran into Boyd and he said he’s coughing up slugs. He’s fine.”

“Oh.” He shuffled awkwardly; the heat had receded but there was still a tingle. Furthermore, he was starting to feel nauseous and needed to use the bathroom soon. He tried to go around her, The small girl moved with him, blocking his path. “I have to go back to the dorm.”

“For what?” She interrogated.

“To work on homework.”

“Really?”

“Um.”

“You’re looking a little pale.” She said matter-of-factly.

“Um...stomachache. I have to go.” He tried to move again, but she halted him again.

“Are you sure it's just a stomachache?”

“Yeah…”

“Are you experiencing fever, hot flashes?”

Stiles gulped. “I’m fine. Just something I ate.”

Lydia’s eyes narrowed. She sighed exasperatedly. “Whatever it is you’re hiding Stilinski, I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Stiles licked his lips and let out a puff of air. “Yeah.”

He tried to make it to Slytherin Dormitories, but bile rose quickly up his esophagus. Without thinking, he dashed to the nearest restroom. He swung upon the door and crashed into a stall, falling over the toilet. Without even lifting the lid, he began to empty his entire stomach. He groaned as he could feel the burn of acidic orange he had earlier that day. He continued for a full minute, his vision turned blurry and an impending headache was making itself known. He groaned again as a shiver ran through his body. He expected his body to begin sweating as per usual with his heat spells, but this time his skin felt red, hot, and dry.

Stiles moaned in pain.

His pulse throbbed against his neck and head, and slowly the world around him was growing faint.

“Is someone in here?” Stiles heard someone cry out.

Stiles moaned again. He heard footsteps and then someone cracked open the stall. Stiles saw a blurry Liam Dunbar and some kid named Mason hovering over him.

“Shit, Stiles.” Liam immediately kneeled beside him. “Are you ok?”

Stiles tried to speak but his mouth was suddenly feeling too dry.

“Crap,” Liam breathed. “Mason, help me out here.”

Stiles felt two arms grasp him from both sides. Without much warning, the two began hauling him out of the restroom and presumably to the Hospital Wing. On their way there, the three passed by Yukimura. She barely gave them a glance. He wasn’t sure if he would have preferred her gloating than looking like she was already preparing his eulogy. It probably would have read: _And here lies Stiles, the idiotic boy who refused my help._

He groaned again as he was dropped on one of the beds of the Hospital Wing. Immediately, the Healer attended to him. He felt something pressing against his lips and he opened his mouth on instinct. A cool liquid hit his throat and he was brought back to normalcy all within the span of ten seconds. The whiplash of it was sort of giving him another headache.

He glanced to his right as the healer tsked. “This heat we’ve been having sure has been bad,” She said, picking up the potion vials by his nightstand. “You need to keep safe Mr. Stilinski. Drink lots of water and I would suggest going to bed and taking a rest as soon as possible.”

“Is he fine though?” Stiles heard Liam ask.

The Healer nodded. “Heat Strokes while very dangerous can be fixed very quickly. He’s fine. You can take him back now.”

The Healer turned away from them. Stiles sat up and glanced at the Gryffindor and Slytherin in front of him. Liam and Mason, reminded Stiles a little of himself and Scott. He didn’t voice this though, instead he said, “Don’t tell anyone this happened.”

“Dude, you almost died,” Mason voiced.

“I know. Just don’t tell anyone ok?”

The two fourth years shared a glance but nodded nonetheless.

Stiles sighed and stood on shaky feet. He left the two in the Hospital Wing and made it safely back to the Slytherin Common Room.

|~~***~~|

Scott knew there was something very wrong with Stiles. Any time he was near him, Stiles shied away from his touch and anytime they were with the whole pack, Stiles excused himself and then would return smelling of cold tap water. He had tried to ask, but Stiles merely shrugged him off. The only thing Scott could do was play along.

At the moment, he, Stiles, and Cora were on his bed with a giant litter of candy while they avoided the mountain of homework.

“Try this one,” Scott threw a candy in the air. Stiles opened his mouth to catch it. He chewed it for a moment before the sour taste pinched his face. Scott laughed as a wheezing steam escaped from Stiles’ ears.

“Ugh that was terrible.” Stiles muttered, reaching for another one to repeat the process.

Cora snuck her hand in the box and picked one out. This one made her roar like a lion.

Stiles stuck his tongue out at her.

“Hey when are you guys having trials for Quidditch?” Stiles asked.

“Like we would tell you slimy shit-eating Slytherins.” Scott retorted rudely. Stiles snorted and Scott immediately regretted his words. “Sorry full moon is tomorrow.” Perhaps, Stiles wasn’t being honest with him because he wasn’t being either...

“It’s alright,” Stiles laughed. “Tell Mr. Howly I forgive him.”

Scott apologized again, “Anyway um how are you and Derek?”

“Eww, no!” Cora whined. She grabbed a handful of Bertie Botts and chucked them at Scott. “Absolutely no talking of my brother’s love life when I’m in the room. It’s bad enough you smell like him.”

Stiles eyebrow raised in amusement, “I smell like Derek?”

Her face scrunched. “Like each other.”

“Ok fine we won’t talk about our love lives.” His eyes widened and he smirked in Scott’s direction. “Let’s talk about yours.”

Cora bit leg off a chocolate frog. “I don’t have a love life.”

Scott perked up. “What about the person you went out with during Valentine’s?”

“That was a one time thing.”

“Well who were they?” Stiles continued to pursue.

“Huh?”

“Boy? Girl?”

“What are you talking about?”

“In that, in all the time I’ve known you, I have no idea what you like? Boys? Girls? Both? For all I know you like to shag the sheep.” Cora kicked him off the bed. Stiles went tumbling over. He crawled back up the bed. “That still doesn’t answer my question.”

“For your information, I like boys.”

“Great!” Stiles cheered. “That narrows it down to half the school’s population. So who was he? Gryffindor? Hufflepuff? Slytherin? Ravenclaw?”

“I am not going to tell you.”

Scott was the one to pout. “Why not?”

“Because. I don’t like sharing my love life with you guys.”

“Ha!” Stiles exclaimed. “There is a love life!”

“It was Sean, wasn’t?” Scott asked. “I remember him freaking out on what he should wear because he had a date that day. Except he wouldn’t tell us who it was, said his date would kill him.”

“No! It wasn’t Sean!” Cora exclaimed. Her fingers fumbled with the candy wrappers.

Even Stiles didn’t need special hearing to detect the lie there. “Holy crap! You went out with him?”

“Shut up!” Cora shouted. “This is your fault.”

“How is it my fault?”

“It just is!” She jumped toward him and tackled him. Scott sighed and tried to save their stack of candy before the two squished it. Between Cora having Stiles in a headlock with her legs, Bennett walked into the room.

The boy looked over at the bed and wisely chose to ignore it. “I just want you guys to know that Erica Reyes is downstairs fighting with Heather.”

“I was not fighting.” Erica came in and threw her hair over her shoulder. “We were just having a friendly chat. I was a model of decorum. Heather had no desire to hex me, and I’m sure she’s downstairs speaking highly of my courtesy,” Erica assured them.

“Right.” Bennett walked downstairs.

Cora pulled away from Stiles to ask, “What are you doing here?”

Erica sauntered to them. Scott could see a flicker of mischief in her eyes, “Why Cora no need to be rude. I just came for some Fizzing Whizbees, to gossip, learn all your guys’ secrets, play a little bit of footsie with Stiles,” She winked at him. “All within the boundaries of wanting to hang out with my friends.”

“What do you really want?” Cora asked again.

She pouted, “I wanted to have a word with Scott. Privately.”

That was a strange request. “Oh. Um...alright.” Scott stood and looked to his best friends. “Don’t kill each other while I’m gone.”

Stiles saluted and Cora rolled her eyes. He was going to walk calmly with Erica, but she grabbed him forcefully. He left with Erica dangling on his arm. They descended the stairs and Scott caught a glimpse of Allison sitting on the sofa by the fireplace. Her eyes went to their locked arms. She quickly looked back to the book in her lap.

Erica pretended not to notice and yanked him out of the Gryffindor Tower. Scott had no clue where Erica was dragging him. He realized though that he hadn’t really spent any time with Erica. The girl was nice and a good friend, but they had never been alone together.

And that was worrying Scott immensely.

She turned round the corridor and Scott realized she was leading them to the Room. For some reason that didn’t calm him. Erica let go of him to walk in front of the empty wall three times. A small door appeared.

Erica smiled reassuringly at Scott. “No need to be worried. We’ve faced more terrifying things than little old me.”

“You are a terrifying thing,” Scott confessed.

Erica laughed. She pulled the door and Scott took note of the room. It wasn’t the usual living room set up, nor their training room. It was a bedroom. Full of hanging lights and colors, it was Erica’s room.

Erica jumped on the bed. She kicked off her heels and pointed with her toe where Scott could sit. He took the chair by the desk.

“Don’t worry,” Erica repeated. “If things look grim, you are more than welcome to duck out of here.”

“Why did you bring me here?” Scott asked.

Erica grinned and bit her lip. Scott recognized her fake sultry look that she liked to use with the male population to get what she wanted. “I wanted to have some alone time with you. You’re off the market. It’s time to get back on, don’t you think?”

Scott heard her heartbeat. It was beating erratically. “Erica, stop playing games. Why am I here?”

She kicked her feet back and forth. “None of you are fun. Boyd plays along with me.”

“I’m not Boyd.”

“Thank God, cause this would be incredibly awkward,.”

“Why?”

Scott heard her heart increase unnaturally. He saw her blush even with the dim lights. “Nothing.” She tried to compose herself. “Isaac told me what was happening to you during full moons.”

“Oh _that._ ”

“Yeah. Full moon is tomorrow.”

Scott growled under his breath, “I fucking know, Erica, no need to remind me.”

Erica smiled with a gasp. “Oh touchey, I like it. But too bad, Isaac asked me to help.”

Scott didn’t mean to lose patience with her. “Isaac needs to mind his own goddamn business. I don’t need your fucking help.”

“Of course you do. Derek is convinced he can’t help you. That you gotta figure this out on your own, but he’s always been so dramatic. I say, we can help you, and specifically I’m gonna help lower your ship’s anchor.”

“How?”

“Well, Isaac told me that he told you that my anchor is little old me.”

“...Yeah.”

“And that’s what we are going to do for you.” She leaned in close enough that if Scott dared to look he would see the swell of her breast. “Are you ready?”

Scott nodded.

“Good.” She leaned back.

“You’re making it seem like we’re going to run laps.”

“Ew.” She crossed her legs underneath her and adjusted her skirt. “We’re just here to talk.”

“And what braid each other’s hair?” Scott retorted. He took a deep breath to reel in his wolf side.

Erica ignored it. “I don’t think we can braid yours. You can braid mine if you want.” And in all Erica seriousness, she turned around and showed her back to Scott. Scott sighed, but pulled his chair closer and took hold of her hair. He tried to remember how his mother did it every day for work.

“So honestly I have no idea what to say. I was gonna come in here like Master Sensei in some cheap Kung Fu movie and teach you the special ways but I honestly have no idea what to do.”

Scott raked his fingers through Erica’s hair as he ruined the braid. He tried again.

“Well how did you decide you were your own anchor?”

“Well I figured whatever happened to me during my wolf form couldn’t possibly be as bad as me as an epileptic. I could handle anything, you know.”

“I wasn’t an epileptic though.”

“No, but you did get dumped pretty badly from what I hear.”

Scott fought to urge to yank her hair. “So what do you suggest?”

“Well what matters to you?”

Scott shrugged. He got the hang of braiding her hair, but ran his fingers through it again to make it neater. The silence passed too long.

“Really you don’t have answer?” She asked. “That’s selfish of you.” Scott stopped braiding her hair all together. Erica turned around. “What’s wrong?”

“Maybe I am.” He stood up and left Erica alone in the Room. She called his name several times, but Scott continued walking.

|~~***~~|

The pack grouped together during the full moon. Scott’s eyes raked over the people present. Stiles and Derek were sharing the recliner chair as Derek helped Stiles with some homework. Boyd and Jackson were sitting on the ground playing some wizard’s chess. Cora, Erica, and Isaac were on the couch both working on their History of Magic essay. Seeing them work on it made Scott appreciative he wasn’t taking that class anymore.

He went over to the far wall and sat by the chains that the Room had provided. Scott wasn’t sure if he would need them, but Derek had said it was better to be safe.

He leaned his back against the stone wall and his eyes raked over a lithe frame with dark brown curls cascading down a back elegantly. He turned away from Allison as she brewed a potion with Danny and Lydia.

Scott set his hands on his lap and waited. Five minutes passed. Then ten. Then fifteen.

The moon snuck upon Scott. He bent over his knees and growled. He sensed the others turning his way. He lifted a hand to tell them he was fine. His features shifted quickly and as the moon emerged behind the clouds, Scott slowly sat straight again.

He tried to concentrate on what Isaac and Erica had said. Be your own anchor. But something about it felt off.

Scott’s eyes glanced to pack, who watching him for any sudden movements. His eyes landed on Allison. Scott roared. His claws that had been resting on his thighs dug through his pants and into his flesh.

“Shit.” He heard Derek mutter.

Derek ran to him and immediately held him down. Scott tried to fight him but it was difficult when his wolf was recognizing that his Alpha was here. Derek grabbed both his wrist and chained them to the wall. Scott snarled and fought against the restraints.

Derek stood slowly.

“Scott?”

His eyes snapped to Stiles, who had spoken. Scott was overly aware of his senses. He could taste the burning metal in the air against his tongue and the roof of his mouth. His nostrils were filled with the stench of sweat. His ears could hear the sweat sliding against Stiles’ neck and landing on Stiles’ shirt with a wet squelch.

“Buddy?” Stiles tried again.

Scott expected Stiles to use his magic to calm him down like he had done in the past. But he was not doing it all. Stiles crouched beside him. “C’mon Scott.” Why wasn’t he using his magic?

“Just keep breathing.”

Scott choked on his breath for one brief moment as he looked up at Stiles’ concerned eyes.

Perhaps, it was never Stiles’ magic that had calmed him. Stiles. His best friend since eleven had always been there for him. Whether it was cheering him on at Quidditch trials, at a Quidditch game, never leaving his side when he found out his best friend was a werewolf, accepting him after dating a hunter. Stiles was always there. Stiles was here now even though it was hurting him being here. Scott could see it. His presence was hurting his best friend, but Stiles still wasn’t leaving. He was sitting right next to him, trying to calm him down.

Something heavy dragged Scott’s conscious back into his mind. He felt along the chain of the anchor, examining it from all sides. His anchor was not Allison or himself. It was Scott and Stiles. And it always would be.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AGHHH!! I PASSED MY TEST!! As a treat for myself and my awesome readers I wrote this extra long chapter. Tell me what you think. How cute is my Kira right? 
> 
> Sorry no appearance of Derek's new pet yet. I'm struggling to think of names. Does any one have any? 
> 
> Side notes:  
> I always thought only western schools would have western spells. So I did some research. I thought schools in Asian countries would have spells from Ancient China during the Shang dynasty mixed with Yamato-Kotoba, which refers to words that are "originally Japanese" meaning those that are not Chinese loanwords, and also mixed with The Dravidian languages of South India.
> 
> The spells Kira uses are Hazumu which means to bound and Kieru which means to disappear.


	47. Instruction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles finally caves thanks to Derek and Scott. Also Stiles imprints on a furry creature.

It was mid afternoon, and mid September, though it did not seem it. No misty chill settled in the air and the forest's leaves had yet to turn into orange and red hues. The pack lingered under a tree by the Black Lake. Their spot looked over the horizon. They idly watched the lake ripple from the creatures underneath. The sun sat differently in the sky, seeming to slant into their eyes from every angle. It was a sign that the nice summer heat they had been experiencing was coming to a close. They decided to make the most of it and hang out on the grounds.

Scott, Isaac, and Stiles were flying by the edge of the lake. They taunted Jackson with unflattering names to get him to join their game. It seemed to be working. Derek, Boyd, and Danny sat under another tree, a few feet away from the girls, enjoying the calmness. The girls meanwhile took comfort in Lydia's tea and biscuits.

Allison glanced at the flying mess of boys. “I don’t know, I feel bad talking about him when he is only a few feet away from me,” Allison muttered.

“Oh, you are way too sweet and precious for this world,” Lydia replied, handing Allison a biscuit.

She bit into it and glanced over at Cora. “You sure the silencing spell will hold?”

“Who got an ‘O’ on her OWLs?” Cora snarled, grabbing some of the food. “And you aren’t talking bad at him. You are just telling us what has been on your mind lately. You need to talk to someone.”

Erica from her lying position on the ground, groaned. “Let me guess; it was about the full moon?”

Allison nodded softly. The full moon had been a few days ago and Allison did not want to remember. After all, she was the reason Scott had lost control.

“Allison. Whatever his problem is, just remember it doesn’t involve you. Scott has to get through it on his own. Plus, I think he’s gonna be fine.” Cora remarked.

“How do you know?”

“I talked to him." Cora lying her head on Erica's stomach, stared at Allison suspiciously. "And I didn’t know you still had feelings for him,” Cora said.

“I don’t. But it doesn’t mean I can’t be worried for him. Especially since I’m the one who left him like that.”

“Allison, please.” Lydia stated. “Don’t put that pressure on yourself. You didn’t ask to be his anchor. It was his choice. You have nothing to do with it. It’s typical teenage boy stuff of crying himself to sleep, except he’s a werewolf so it’s a multiplied by ten.”

Before Allison could reply, her eyes wavered to the edge of the lake. She saw Stiles fall of his broom. Scott, Isaac, and Jackson laughed. But Allison knew something was wrong when Stiles refused to stand. He rose to his knees as he clutched his face with his hand.

“What’s going on?” Allison whispered. She rose to her feet cautiously, straining her eyes to better see the problem. Scott fumbled off his broom, discarding it to the side as he rushed to Stiles. She couldn't hear him, but Scott’s face was filled with sheer terror.

"God," Erica breathed. She and Cora jumped to their feet, sprinting across the grounds.

Allison gave a curious look to Lydia. Together they ran to their friend. They arrived to see Derek crouched by Stiles.

“Stiles, what’s happening?” Derek growled, while the pack surrounded him.

Stiles tried to shrug Derek’s hands away. “Nothing. I’m fine, just a little tired.”

“You are not fine! You haven’t been fine since we got back to Hogwarts!” Which was true, Allison had noticed Stiles' behavior. They all had, but she had stupidly assumed it was because he was still stressing about what had occurred at the end of last term.

“What are you talking about?” Stiles tried to laugh. Allison sucked in her lips at the broken noise.

“Stop lying. What’s going on?”

Stiles removed his hands from his face. Allison could see that Stiles was pale and sweating profusely. “Nothing is wrong with me.” He took a few steps away from the pack. He began to walk away backwards. “See? I’m perfectly healt—” Stiles didn’t get to finish his sentence.

Allison saw the second when Stiles struggled to breathe. He brought a hand to his throat. Derek was ready to rush to him but Stiles held up his other hand, telling him to stop. Derek did.

Stiles then vomited into the lake, the contents tinged bright red. His hand continued to stay up, signaling to the others to stay away. When he finished emptying his stomach, Stiles smiled.

"See all better," was the last thing he said before a violent tremor shook his body.

"Stiles?" Scott whispered, tentatively stepping forward.

Stiles collapsed to his hands and knees. The pack jumped as a small flicker of fire danced around the ground. It only lasted a few seconds but it was enough to create a circle of charred grass.

"Stiles." This time Derek tried, his voice shook in fear.

"I can't-I can't control it." He sobbed. His eyes smoked red at the same time dancing balls of red light swarmed around him. The werewolves tried to duck as soon as they saw them, but Stiles' Moonwalker magic was persistent. The red lights fired around him, straight to the werewolves. The Betas shouted in pain as they were launched backwards. Allison kneeled by Cora who fell by her feet. Cora's face was charred, but already slowly healing.

Allison's head snapped to Derek, "Stiles! You need to calm down."

Stiles took uneven breaths. He cried, "I can't!" Another explosion hit all the werewolves. Derek howled as several hit him in the chest. He dug his claws into the ground to avoid flying in the air. Without warning, another wave of Stiles' magic flew out.

Allison stood to her feet, pulling out her wand. She marched forward, "We need to knock him out!" A handy spell was already falling from her lips.

"No," Scott surprisingly said. He pulled himself to his feet. "Stiles! Think of your dad. Your family."

Stiles sucked in a huge breath. The lights crashed to the ground. The werewolves sagged in relief. But as soon as Stiles calmed, he fell on his side. Derek and the rest of the pack ran to him. Allison hovered and saw that Stiles was convulsing on the ground. Derek tried to hold him down.

“No, don’t.” Erica pushed Derek. “Everyone back away now. Boyd time it.”

The pack listened to Erica as she was familiar with seizures. She grabbed Stiles' arms and helped move his body into a rest position. Stiles continued to convulse. Erica sat back on her heels watching as foam collected in Stiles’ mouth.

“Boyd how long?” Erica gaped.

“It’s almost going to be a minute.”

“Shit. We need to get help.”

“We’ll go find Morrell or Deaton,” Cora replied. She tugged at Isaac’s robes and they both ran inhumanly fast, not caring if anyone saw them.

“Erica?” Derek panted out in worry. Stiles kept shaking like a fish out of water. Allison wanted to turn away as she watched him through his obvious pain.

“I don’t know.” Erica whimpered. "I don't know what to do. We're supposed to wait."

“It’s his magic.” Scott answered quickly. Scott grabbed a handful of Derek’s and Erica's sleeves, yanking them away from Stiles. “All werewolves need to back away now!"

“What?” Derek shouted, not wanting to leave Stiles' side.

“Trust me.” Scott growled and eyes flashing yellow.

Erica nodded. “Lydia, continue to time him.”

Lydia nodded and took Boyd’s watch.

The werewolves ran a distance off into the forest. Allison could barely see them. She turned to Stiles and fell to her knees as Stiles' seizure suddenly stopped.

Lydia, Allison, and Danny rested by him. His eyes blinked open and he glanced at Danny, “Go...get Yukimura.” Stiles’ eyes drooped shut.

Allison heard Danny shout to the werewolves for one of them to go get their Professor.

Allison put Stiles on his back. His breathing was back to normal. She prayed everything was going to be fine as she ran her fingers through his hair in comforting motions.

|~~***~~|

“I hope you learned your lesson.”

Stiles moaned as his face rubbed against a scratchy pillow. His eyes opened slowly but he was quick to groan when he saw Professor Yukimura. She was standing by her tea pot.

“Most people ask ‘are you alright’?” Stiles grumbled. He sat up on the makeshift cot. He looked around and realized he was in her office. It was different from when he had last been there. Bookshelves lined the back wall by her cherry wood desk. A painting of a giant green tree sat against the left wall. It swayed idly back and forth against an invisible wind. On the ceiling, paper lanterns floated on their own. Each lantern had a different kanji symbol that Stiles was unable to read.

“I’m not going to coddle you.” She walked to him. “Drink this.”

Stiles took the cup and examined the unappealing drink with distaste. It was slushy white with dry herbs still sticking out of it. “This isn’t Pick-Me-Up-Potion.”

“No, its _Yuki Ocha_ , otherwise known as Snow Tea. Drink it in one go if you can.”

Stiles gave her an exasperated look as she turned back to her desk. He held his nose and tipped back his head. Immediately, his body felt too cold.

“I assume it’s working.” Yukimura said, sitting at her desk. “You will be drinking it three times a day. It will cool down your body, much more effective than the juvenile cooling spells you’ve been applying to your skin.”

Stiles set the cup in between his legs.

“Most people say thank you,” She commented, when Stiles remained silent.

“Thank you.” Stiles said monotone.

Yukimura gave a small smile “I expect you to come to my office next week to begin training.”

Stiles head snapped to her. “I never agreed to it.”

“If you don’t, I will tell your father. The Alpha informed me that is a very quick way to get you to do something.”

Stiles threw his legs over the bed to face her more directly. “You told the pack?”

“The Banshee brought you in on a stretcher. Her and the hunter demanded to know what was happening.”

“Don’t call them that.”

“What? A Banshee? She is one you know.”

“I know that. But she has a name. Lydia Martin. _All_ my friends have names.”

She smiled. “If they were truly your friends you would have told them what was happening to you. Instead, you let your magic fester and nearly destroy you. Luckily, Mr. McCall was bright enough to notice his presence was harming you. And now your friends, I assume are on the other side of the castle to keep you safe. So again, training begins next week right after dinner.”

“If it’s so crucial for me to train with you why are you delaying it till next week?”

She crossed her hands daintily under her chin. “Because I am also a professor, Mr. Stilinski. And I have a stack of essays to grade. If you had come sooner, this would not have been an issue. So now you have to wait and suffer. By the door there is a box with the packets of tea. Just add them into a hot cup of water and drink at least three times a day. I also suggest not to eat with the entire pack during meals. Seeing them in classes is fine, but it is preferable you keep your distance. Don’t want you to have another attack, now do we?”

Stiles stood up and placed the ceramic cup on her desk. “No.”

“I’m glad we have come to a mutual understanding. You may leave.”  

Stiles rubbed the side of his head but left anyway. He walked through the dungeons alone and was ready to head to his room, but he stopped as he saw Scott and Derek waiting for him by the Slytherin portrait.

Stiles grinned, liking that Yukimura was not entirely correct about his friends.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” Stiles waved.

Derek and Scott both glared. Derek pushed off the wall and marched to him. Scott grabbed onto Derek’s forearm.

“I’ll handle this.”

Derek looked cross.

“I’ll handle it.” Scott repeated firmly. He glanced at Stiles then back at Derek. “Stiles has a way of manipulating people. I won’t be fooled that easily. I’ll handle it, don’t worry. I’ll tell you what happened later.”

Derek’s eyes narrowed but he submitted nonetheless. Instead he invaded Stiles’ personal space.

Stiles only stood dumbly as he watched Derek walk down the corridor.

“You me, need to talk, right now.” Each of Scott’s words were clipped.

Stiles tried to pretend he didn’t know what was going on. “Why?”

“So I can hex you seven ways from Sunday,” He said irritably. “Why the fuck do you think?”

Stiles was taken back. Scott never spoke like this unless it was near the full moon, and the full moon had just passed. Stiles sighed, knowing he was in deep shit. Lying and evading questions would only make it worse.

Scott grabbed his arm and dragged him down the dungeons again. He yanked open a door and together they entered the abandoned classroom. Stiles leaned against the desk while Scott remained at the door, most likely to keep Stiles from escaping.

“How the fuck could you not tell us?” Scott immediately shouted.

Stiles glanced at his friend then the floor. “Because I thought I could handle it.” Stiles said quietly.  

“Apparently not, you almost died by the lake.”

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration I think.”

“You threw up blood. Collapsed. Attacked the pack. Had a heat stroke. Then a seizure. You don’t count that as almost dying?”

Fury filled Stiles’ pores. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I fucked up! I get it. There’s no reason to rub it in my face.”

“You did a little more than fuck up. _God, Stiles!_ This is your life and you didn’t fucking tell us what was happening to you. Each time I tried to ask, you shut me out! Since when have you ever keep things from me. We’re best friends!”

Stiles finally looked up at Scott as his hands clenched the desk behind him. “It’s not like you were being the best forthcoming friend either.”

_“What?”_

“You didn’t tell me you lost your anchor. How you mutilated yourself. I think that’s pretty important to tell a best friend.”

Scott stood straight. “That is nowhere near comparable Stiles and you know it, stop trying to change the subject. This is about you.”

“I’m pretty sure it is comparable when you are nearly killing yourself every month, oh and apparently making Derek promise you to not tell me. Smooth move there, Scott.”

Scott’s eyes narrowed. “Derek told.”

“No, Cora and Allison did. And I’m pretty sure you were going to leave me in the dark about it until the full moon came. Luckily, by then I already knew that you were flipping a shit so I could help.”

“Stiles stop it!” Scott growled. His eyes flashed yellow for a few seconds. Stiles backed down. “It’s not in any way the same, and don’t you dare try to make it that way. The only person I was affecting was myself. The problem was caused by me. _Me._ You on the other hand, had their problems originate from the pack. By not telling us, you caused us to hurt you. How do you think we feel knowing that we’ve been the source of your problems since you tried to kill Blake? Because let me tell you Stiles, knowing that you’ve slowly been killing your best friend is not a good feeling, when this whole mess could have been avoided.”

“It couldn’t—”

“Yes, it could have. We could have—I don’t know—set up a schedule so we wouldn’t all be together at once. Force you to stay in your room when the full moon came. Or I don’t know, convince you to take up Yukimura’s training. She told us you rejected her offer all because you think you are going to hurt _us._ ”

“I am—”

“No, you aren’t! You’re not going to be hurting anyone when you’re suffering a heat stroke and having a goddamn seizure!” Scott’s voice then got quiet, “...when you’re dead. What am I going to do when you’re dead?! Right when I found my anchor! So answer me honestly, why didn’t you tell us?”

Stiles’ lower lip trembled. “I don’t know.” He choked out, upon the realization Scott had chosen him as his anchor.

“Stiles, we care about you. And this, you shouldn’t have hidden. We could have helped.”

“I just—” _Merlin._ Stiles didn’t even have a proper excuse. He brought his palms up and pressed them against his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

He felt arms wrap around his body. “It’s ok. Shhh. I’m sorry for yelling. I’m just worried.”

Stiles sniffed to avoid crying. He pulled back. “What did the pack say?”

“Uh...Jackson really wanted to come murder you for doing something so stupid. Danny and Lydia had to hold him down. Then someone had to hold down Cora cause she was with Jackson on that one. But the rest of them are just really worried. Derek’s worried. I’m surprised you didn’t tell him.”

“Why?”

“You guys seem good. I’ve noticed Derek’s been more open and it’s because of you. I thought it went both ways.”

“It does.” Stiles looked down at the floor again. “On certain things. I just...I don’t know.”

Scott pulled back and crouched to search for Stiles gaze. “You can’t do what your mother did Stiles. She left you in the dark, don’t do that to us, please.”

Stiles met his friend’s large brown doe eyes. He felt a punch to the gut at Scott’s words. He took further steps back and wiped at his forehead. “Merlin.”

“What?”

“Even after being apart, you somehow know what I’ve been thinking all this summer about my mom.”

“You’re my best friend.” Scott said simply.

“I am.” Stiles sucked in a breath. “I’m sorry. I won’t hide something like that from you again.”

Scott smiled brightly. “Good.” Scott shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot. Stiles snorted at Scott’s sudden change in demeanor from hard-headed and in your face to this dorky boy. “I should go. Give you rest.”

Stiles nodded. Together, they walked out the door, but as soon as Scott pulled open the latch, they saw Derek leaning against the opposite wall. Scott’s eyes opened wide. “Um…” He muttered awkwardly, glancing at the couple. “I’m gonna go.”

Scott shuffled off before he could say anything.

Stiles watched him leave and turned back to his boyfriend. He gulped. Oh Merlin, he scrunched his eyes waiting for the worst.

“I’m not going to yell at you,” Derek spoke.

Stiles opened one eye first then the other. “Huh?”

“Scott already did that.”

“So?”

Derek uncrossed his arms and stood in front of Stiles. He reached out a hand to cup Stiles’ cheek, but he froze a few inches from Stiles’ face. Stiles watched as Derek’s hands clenched into a loose fist before he brought his hand down to his thigh. Stiles sighed, knowing Derek was now wary of touching him after the deadly occurrence.

“So...I came to see how you’re doing.”

“Better.”

Derek nodded and took a step back. His shoulders pulled back. He looked up at the corner of the ceiling then back at Stiles. “I don’t want you lying to me anymore.”

“I think that’s a given, seeing the chat I just had with Scott.”

“No. I don’t want you lying to me...as—” Derek licked his lips. “...as your boyfriend.”

“Derek.” Stiles reached out.

Derek stepped back until he was pressed against the hallway’s wall again. “No, I want you to understand clearly. I don’t want you lying to me again about something this big, if you do, we can’t be together. In the past, I’ve put my trust in people— a person actually, and I shouldn’t have, they lied and harmed not only others, but me. You lying about your physical and mental health hurts me too Stiles.”

“I’m sorry.” Stiles was losing count of how many times he had uttered that word today.

“Can you promise you won’t lie about something like this again?”

Stiles saw the clear turmoil in Derek’s expressive eyes. Stiles nodded. “I promise.” The idea of them breaking up was unimaginable.

Derek’s shoulders sagged.

“I guess,” Stiles rubbed the back of his head. “I have to find a way to make this up to you.”

“You can make it up to me by listening.”

“What do you mean?”

“Not hanging out with the pack or me until you begin training. You can spend time with Lydia, Allison, and Danny, but everyone else try to stay away from them. Even in classes, sit on the opposite side of the class, don’t come to the Great Hall, go to the kitchens to eat. I don’t want us affecting you anymore. Ok?”

Stiles knew, Scott, Derek, and the pack were letting him off easily. This could have gone so much worse. He could have died and if he hadn’t, he could have ruined every relationship he had with his pack. So, Stiles didn’t even fight it, “Got it.”

**  
**  


|~~***~~|

Stiles as instructed went to Yukimura’s office the next week. His stomach rolled awash with nerves and distaste all at once. He didn’t want to do this but at the moment there was no other option, plus he was tired of spending the entire week without the pack. Sure, Allison and Danny were nice. But they were just _too_ nice and didn’t really appreciate his sense of humor. Lydia, glared at him each time he cracked a joke and any time spent with her was pouring over their classes. He _needed_ the others.

He knocked on the door and from the other side he could hear. “Enter.”

Stiles pushed the door slowly at first and peered in, secretly hoping she wasn’t there.

But there she was, dressed still in her traditional Japanese robes. Except this time, she had ditched the floral arrangements for an all black ensemble.

Her voice was measured and deliberate, “You’re late.”

Stiles rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry. I was finishing up my readings.”

“I see.” She walked over to her coat rack and threw on another robe. “Come. We will go to the forest, my helper is already there.”

Stiles stepped to the side and let her go first. They exited the castle in silence. It was not until they made it to the grounds, Stiles stole a look at the woman. She looked so regal, even more than the purebloods Stiles had met. This woman radiated power and respect.

Stiles jumped when she noticed he was staring at her. To avoid the awkward tension, Stiles asked her a question. “So um...the Moonwalker you told me about. Did you train him?”

She looked ahead. “No. He found out about this technique himself. I merely helped.”

“Oh.”

“Why do you ask?”

“You said he died but you said he had kids. I was wondering if you were still in touch with them.”

“You wish to meet them?” The corner of her lips twitched.

“It would be nice to meet with a Moonwalker who knows what the fuck they’re doing.”

Stiles didn’t expect her to smile at him cursing. She picked up her robes a bit as they went down the steps to the gardens. “His children are dead.”

Stiles stumbled two steps.  “What?”

“As are his grandchildren and great grandchildren. They were all lovely people. Sadly, I’ve lost touch with them.”

“You met them all?” Stiles paused on the steps. Yukimura kept walking.

“Yes.”

Stiles’ face scrunched. “How old are you?”

Stiles was taken back by the mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “You will understand shortly, c’mon.”

Stiles jogged to catch up with her. They treaded into the forest and Stiles expected they would go deep into the thickets of the trees, but they barely entered the edge.

Yukimura pulled out her wand and transfigured a tree branch into a coat hanger. She hung her outdoor robes. “Sorry for the delay. I had to wait for Mr. Stilinski.”

_“It’s ok.”_

Stiles head snapped to the side. He recognized the small girl immediately. She had been running from them since the start of the year. “You’re the foreign exchange student.”

“Yes.” She was wearing simple Japanese robes and had a katana at her back. She walked near Stiles and then bowed. “It is a pleasure to meet a Moonwalker, Mr. Stilinski. My name is Kira Yukimura.”

Stiles was astounded by her formality.

“You will be training also with my daughter.” Professor Yukimura spoke. “So I expect you show her the same level of respect she does to you.”

Stiles nodded fiercely at her hostile voice. He awkwardly bowed back. “Um you can call me Stiles instead of Mr. Stilinski.”

Kira smiled. “You can call me Kira.”

“Good,” Yukimura smiled at their greeting. She sat gracefully on a boulder and crossed her ankles and placed her hands gently on her lap. “Now Stiles. The point of training is to first get rid of all the excess magic inside you. We have to open that window.”

“You mean I have to use my magic?” Stiles already felt wary. He knew he would have to use it but he thought he would do some simple meditation instead of jumping straight into it.

“Yes, nothing complicated.” She assured. “I hope you know how to create mountain ash.”

“Yeah.”

“Perfect. For the evening, you will be using mountain ash and attempt to entrap my daughter.”

Stiles head snapped toward her. “You’re a werewolf?” He couldn’t sense anything from her.

“No.” She fumbled awkwardly with her robes. “I’m a kitsune.”

“A what?”

Yukimura answered, “I believe here they call them nine-tailed foxes.”

“Holy Merlin!” Stiles head snapped at the revelation. “You’re a—and so...so are you! That explains the Moonwalker you met. Kitsunes can live for thousands of years, when you said you met that Moonwalker a long time ago, you really meant it!”

“Yes, I met him about five hundred years ago. But despondently, I am no longer a kitsune. My daughter on the other hand is.”

Kira bit her lip shyly. “Well not officially. I haven’t got all my tails yet. I only have three.”

“That’s still incredible.” Stiles immediately wanted to know what power lurked within her tiny body. “Wait. Kitsunes aren’t dark creatures, the mountain ash won’t have any affect.”

“Kitsunes used to be listed under the dark creatures record, but about a hundred years ago they were reclassified as spirits. Our reclassification does not mean we are no longer dark. What we choose to do, sets us apart from our sisters and brothers, who call themselves nogitsunes. We are like your pack, merely using our powers to set a balance. Kira, give Mr. Stilinski a demonstration, please.”

The girl took out her wand from inside her robes. She waved it down her face, a blur of mist swiped down then up her head. After a few seconds, the mist hardened into a white fox mask with red markings among the nose, eyes, and mouth.

He was impressed by the display, but he was a little disappointed. “I thought you could turn into actual foxes.”

“That’s not until I have all my tails.” Kira said under the mask.

“How do you get tails?”

Yukimura coughed. “We are not here for a lesson on my daughter. We are here to train you. Begin.”

Stiles nodded. He shook his arms and took a deep breath. He felt the exact moment when his eyes turned red because a giant scorching flame exploded in chest. He collapsed on the ground clutching his heart.

“You need to release it.” He heard his professor speak. “You will feel better, trust me.”

Stiles nodded shakily. He looked up as Kira stood in front of him, waiting. He extended his right hand and shot the mountain ash at her.

Kira flipped backwards without effort. She landed on a small boulder. Stiles was impressed with her agility. He sat on one knee and tried again.

The mountain ash swam to her, but Kira cartwheeled to the side.

Stiles gave a huffed and there he felt it. It was like a small gust of wind threatening to blow out a candle.

Stiles smiled and stood on his feet. This time he raised both hands. The mountain ash encircled her, and Stiles was sure it was going to trap her. But at the last second before the mountain ash connected, Kira jumped about ten feet into the air and escaped.

“Catching her won’t be easy, Mr. Stilinski.” Yukimura said. “She has three tails for a reason.”

Stiles nodded, taking that to mean to give it his all.

The evening continued like this for two hours. Frustration engulfed Stiles as was unable to catch Kira once. When it seemed like he was, she pulled some trick and flipped the other way. In his effort to only capture her, he almost forgot that he was here to release his magic. He was almost having fun.

“That’s enough.” Yukimura spoke.

Kira flipped over him and landed in front, the mask smoked into mist. Both of them were panting profusely. Stiles couldn’t help but grin when he saw a wide smile all across her face.

“How do you feel, Mr. Stilinski?” Yukimura rose and approached her daughter. She took a hold of her daughter’s hand. Stiles realized that she had a few nicks and scrapes from the trees.

“Um tired.”

“That’s excellent.” Yukimura murmured a healing spell. The gashes on Kira’s hands and arms closed. “How about the heat?”

Stiles took a moment to answer, trying to find the best way to, “It’s like an ember in a fireplace that’s been put out. It’s still there but it’s not burning.”

“Perfect. The heat won’t ever go away. It’s a marker of your magic, but just knowing that you’ve calmed it, is really good news.”

“When will I have to come back for training?”

“In three days, same time. Let’s aim for twice a week and see where it goes from there. Are you ready to go back to the castle?”

Kira and Stiles both nodded.

Kira and her mother walked ahead while Stiles shuffled a little behind them. He noticed again the katana strapped to the Ravenclaw’s back.

“Hey, do you know how to use that?”

Kira glanced at her back and the smile across her face made Stiles realize what a stupid question that was. “Sorry of course you do, why else would you be carrying it?”

He heard Yukimura snort, but he wasn’t positive.

Kira smiled brighter at his rambling. “Yeah. It’s helped me get my two tails.”

“How do you get them?”

“Well um…” She glanced at her mother.

Yukimura gave a curt nod, “You are allowed to tell him.”

Kira waited so Stiles could catch up with her. “I’m not really sure on the matter. My mom says you get one when you earn it. I don’t know what that means though. I got my first one when I discovered I was a kitsune at about twelve years old? Yeah, twelve. My second one was when I picked up my first katana and my third one, when I restored my first spirit.”

“You did what?”

“Oh right. So kitsunes are servants of the Inari, which are stronger spirits, classified as a level four under the International Spirit Division. We possess the power to ward off dark magic with our own, and we serve as a sort of guardian spirit to this world, because that is what the Inari expect of us. Specifically, I’m a lightning/thunder guardian. We help the Inari send wayward spirits into their realm. Some of the spirits are really nasty; they like to terrorize temples, shrines, muggle cities. And sometimes I have to fight them if they don’t cooperate. When my katana strikes them and I infuse it with my fox lightning I help send the spirits back to their realm.”

“Spirit realm? That sounds like makebelieve.”

Yukimura who had been overhearing their conversation answered, “The spirit realm has been proven to exist several times, Mr. Stilinski. Your ministry has a Spirit Division, but it’s substantially smaller in comparison to those of Asia. Yours mostly focuses on ghosts rather than actual spirits who wander back and forth between this world and the spirit one.”

Kira nodded enthusiastically. “Yup. Ghost are marked as a level one so everyone just lets them latch onto what’s anchoring them to this world, its those that are level two and above that you need to worry about. I’ve been training since I was twelve to send them to the spirit realm.”

Stiles then remembered how old kitsunes’ were. “When you say twelve, do you mean you were twelve like a hundred years ago or...?”

“Oh no,” Kira blushed a bit. “I’m not a full kitsune and won’t ever be. I age just like you. My mother’s aura went into me when I was born. She had to give up her spirit side when she married my dad and then when she had me, the Inari gave the aura to me. Since I was born human unlike other kitsunes, I can’t do everything they can.”

“Like?”

“Heal for one. Uh super strength and I can’t cross into the spirit realm unless I die. I also can’t change my appearance at will. Mom said she used to change into all these different women to trick and prank—”

“Kira,” Yukimura warned.

But Stiles hooked onto the information like a fish. “You’re a prankster?”

Yukimura gave one long sigh but then looked at Stiles, “I prefer the term trickster.”

Stiles couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh Merlin, I can’t believe I used to hate you. I mean I didn’t hate you. I think you’re brilliant and completely reasonable. But Holy Merlin’s Beard, you’re a trickster. You have to tell me all the stuff you pulled.”

“Perhaps some other time.”

Kira interrupted her mother. “There was this one time during the Kamakura Period my mom convinced a Samurai that she had gifted him with the finest armor. He put it on without knowing that my mom cast a disillusionment charm on the armor and instead the Samurai put on women’s clothes. He went dressed into battle like that the next day. Won a lot of battles because the enemy was mostly confused.”

“That’s brilliant!”

“It was one of my more tamer pranks,” Yukimura confessed.

Stiles chuckled then turned to Kira. “Do you prank?”

“Uh,” Kira got nervous. “I don’t have the kitsune trickster gene in me.”

Stiles pouted. “Oh. That’s a shame. I love pranks.”

“I’m aware,” Yukimura said. “Robert Finstock informed me to be wary of you.”

“He did?” Stiles laughed. “That’s awesome. I have a reputation.”

Kira laughed with him. Her smile was infectious and Stiles couldn’t remember when he felt this good.

|~~***~~|

“How did your training go? Tea?” Morrell offered.

Stiles shook his head. “You got any candy?” He asked without any shame.

Morrell smiled and walked to her desk. She pulled out a drawer and then threw him a pack of licorice wands.

“Sweet! These are my favorite!” He opened the box and snapped one in his mouth. He leaned back in the chair and watched Morrell prepare her tea. “Training was ok. It went better than expected.”

Truthfully, he had enjoyed it immensely. Kira was a lot of fun to hang around and didn’t threaten to kill him like the majority of his girl friends. That was always a very strong plus in Stiles’ perception of people. Speaking of pluses, he was able to hang out with the pack a lot more now without any single heat stroke. The pack kept asking him what training Yukimura gave him, but Stiles got the impression that they were meant to be private seeing as Yukimura didn’t let Kira talk much about her kitsune side. So he just told the pack not to worry about it and instead focus that he was getting better.

“That’s good to hear. Alan was worried when he found out you weren’t training with her immediately.” She grabbed her tea and then leaned against her desk. “How do you feel?”

“A lot better. With the nasty tea she’s making me take and with the training I can handle the pack for almost the whole day without any complaint.”

Morrell smiled before drinking some of her tea.

“By the way, did you know Yukimura is a kitsune.” Ok, so Stiles had to tell someone! It was just too fucking awesome. “Well used to be. Her daughter is one now.”

“No, I didn’t. They’re quite rare.”

“I know. I’m amazed Kira has three tails already. I would be scared to face her when she has all nine. She practically kicks my ass now.”

“She has you two fighting?”

“Trying to trap Kira in mountain ash. I haven’t caught her yet. But it’s going to be my mission by the end of the semester.”

Morrell chuckled and then threw him a curved bludger. “How are you with the nightmares?”

Stiles’ humor fell away. “Still there.”

“As expected. Would you like to begin training with me?”

Stiles nearly dropped the box of licorice wands. “Like now?”

“Yes. I have some time.”

“Hell yeah.”

Morrell placed her empty tea mug on her desk. She went to go sit in her chair. “We will first begin with a little history lesson. It’s important to understand the fundamental roots of the meditation before we actually begin.”

“Of course.” Stiles maneuvered his seat with enthusiasm so he was facing her properly.

“Alright, as the story goes,” Morrell began, “When Lycaon died and the new reign of Alphas were born, the most revered priestesses of the temples were chosen to become the emissaries of werewolves. My ancestors heiled from the most prestigious and authoritative oracle among the Greeks, The Pythia or commonly known as the Oracle of Delphi of the Temple of Apollo. The Pythia was the name of any priestess; she was widely credited for her prophecies.”

Stiles suddenly remembered that Morrell has scored high marks in Divination. “That’s where your sight comes from,” Stiles grinned. “Holy shit! Your sight is inherited from the greatest seers ever recorded.”

“Yes.” She smiled back. “So the Oracle of Delphi was known for its prophecies but also its practice of henosis. Heno is the Greek word—”

“For ‘one’, the word literally means ‘one-pointed awareness’ or ‘unitary consciousness.” Stiles interrupted.

Morrell raised a brow. “Been paying attention in History of Magic?”

“No, uh Rhea mentioned that a few of the priests practiced it in her old temple.”

“Yes it was practiced very early. Muggles think it came from Plotinus in Rome, but it’s thousands years older than he is. There were a lot of places you could study it—in the Academy of Athens, the great university in Alexandria, Egypt. But with The Pythia it was something a lot stronger. They became the spiritual center of the ancient Greek World for its famous simple advice: ‘Know Thyself.’ Some took it seriously and urged people to close their eyes and awaken another way of seeing. It’s a skill everyone possesses but few choose to use.”

“How does that help me with my nightmares?”

“I’m getting there. Within the teachings there is a quote that says: ‘You must plunge beneath your crowded thoughts and calmly contemplate the higher realities with pure, focused attention. If you do this, a state of inspired serenity will remain with you throughout your life, shaping your character and benefitting you in so many ways. But if you direct your attention instead to the trivial things most people obsess about, the silly nonsense that dulls their minds, you’ll just acquire more objects which you’ll only lose anyway.’”

Stiles frowned. “Our nightmares aren’t trivial.”

“But they are, Stiles. We dream about death. Death is the biggest trivial thing that everyone obsesses about. When will I die? How will I die? When will my family die? What am I going to do if they die? What am I going to do after I die? There’s no point in questioning it. Death is the most inevitable thing in the world. It will happen and what dies will never come back, at least not in it’s original state. There’s no point in questioning it. Questioning death distracts you from what really matters, what you have right now, what is currently living.”

“Sounds a bit on the ominous side to think so close to death.”

“A tad. But it’s true, don’t you think?”

Stiles contemplated this for a while. Morrell sat back and gave him time to think. After a few minutes, Stiles answered. “I’m not sure.”

“You’ll understand it more when we practice it.”

“Great. So uh let’s go right now?”

Morrell did not move.

“What? I just sit crossed leg on the floor and start with an ‘ohm’.” Stiles imitated poorly.

“That’s for Buddhist monks. And you aren’t going to practice it now. First, you are going to learn it’s theory.”

“I thought that was just it.”

“It wasn’t. Just the history of it.” She sensed his impatience. “Stiles, I have been learning this since I was seven years old. You are not going to jump straight into it. We’ll continue with this on our next meeting.”

“When’s that?” Stiles asked.

“Whenever we are both free.”

Stiles nodded, taken back by her carefree nature which was starkly contrasted Yukimura’s planning.

“You know I might not be able to help with your nightmares at the moment but I find returning to daily activities previously done before you experienced your trauma often helps.”

Stiles eyes lit up. “You mean pranks?”

“No, I never—”

“Are you giving me the ok to do pranks at school?”

“No I—”

“Thanks professor!”  He grabbed his bag that he had left at the side of her desk. “Alright. I’ll catch you later then.” Stiles turned to leave, but then he remembered. “Oh that essay that is due on Wednesday, did you want us to to compare the Snargaluff Pods to the Gnarled Stump in terms of reproduction or cultivation?”

“Cultivation. But Stiles?”

“Yeah.”

“Wednesday is tomorrow.”

“Oh I know.”

She gave an exasperated smile. “I hope to read one of your infamous last minute written essays then.”

“Awesome, bye professor.”

“Bye Stiles.”

|~~***~~|

“C’mon Derek,” Stiles whined, tugging at his boyfriend. When Derek refused to move from his chair, Stiles began to tug at his books.

“No. I have to finish this.” Derek snatched his books back.

“But Derek! Lunch!”

“You can go eat without me.” Derek commented.

“I don’t want to,” Stiles whined a little louder. The librarian glared at them. Stiles huffed and sat on the chair next to Derek. “I want to eat with you. I’ve hardly been able to see you.”

“You’ve been as busy as me. Training with Yukimura, Morrell, Quidditch trials, your classes.”

“Ok. Ok. So it’s been my fault too, but I am now ready to make the effort.” Stiles interrupted. He noticed Derek’s Pygmy Puff, napping over a large stack of books. Stiles reached for her and began to pet the mint fluff ball. “I still can’t believe I convinced you to buy one.” He lifted her face to his own. “What’s her name by the way?”

“Put The Puff down.”

Stiles ignored him, “The Puff? Is that what you’ve been calling it?”

“As opposed to naming an owl Posey?”

“That’s a great name.” Stiles defended quickly. “You gotta name her.”

Derek shrugged like he didn’t care. “It’s not like she responds to anything anyway. All she does is sleep, eat, and sometimes play with Isaac’s rat.”

“She doesn’t respond because you haven’t given her a name! Can I name her?”

“No.” Derek said quickly.

“Please?"

“No.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and as usual did his own thing. “I think we should name her Miguel.”

Derek nearly snapped his quill. “We are not naming her Miguel.” Both their eyes widened when the Pygmy Puff hopped in Stiles’ palm to face Derek. “Stiles,” Derek threatened.

“Uh, just a coincidence. She doesn’t even know what Miguel means.” The mint ball hopped to look at Stiles with large eyes.

Derek groaned and was tempted to break his head against the table, whether his own or Stiles’ was up for debate.

“Whoops.” Stiles smiled in embarrassment. “Guess her name is Miguel. Ms. Miguel. How do you like that?” Stiles cooed.

Derek rubbed the bridge of his nose, “Dear God, you imprinted on it.”

“I did no such thing. Ms. Miguel here was desperate for a name, it’s only natural she would latch on to the first one she heard.”

Derek rolled his eyes, “Too bad it had to be that. You couldn’t name her something like Mint Chocolate Chip.”

“Mint Chocolate Chip?”

“So you can tell your lame jokes that I have a chip on my shoulder, each time you saw me.”

Stiles blinked. And then cackled, nearly dropping Ms. Miguel. “Oh shit, please don’t tell jokes without giving me a fair warning. You’re gonna kill me.”

Derek sighed, then turned back to his essay. Which no, Stiles came here to pull him away from it. “Lunch?” Stiles tried again.

“I have to finish this essay by tomorrow.”

Stiles peeked over his shoulder and saw that it was for Transfiguration. “You’ve been working on that essay all week. I looked it over for you two days ago and said it was fine.”

“It’s not. I’m still missing vital information.” Derek hunched closer to the table. Stiles sighed and placed Ms. Miguel on Derek’s head.

“I think you’re a being a perfectionist and need to put that down.”

“I’m good.”

Stiles’ eyes narrowed. “If you don’t move, I’m going to do something that is going to get you really pissed at me.”

“I would say that occurs within ninety percent of our conversations anyway so...”

Stiles grinned, taking it as a go ahead. He reached under the table and placed his palm on Derek’s thigh. As his hand stroked upwards, Derek caught his wrist. “What are you doing?”

“Convincing you to come to lunch. You’ve been freaking out over this essay for the past week. You got it. You’ve even exceeded the inches.”

Derek sighed.

“I swear Derek, if you don’t get up I will give you a handjob in the middle of the library. You don’t want me to ruin your perfect Head Boy image now do you?”

Derek growled under his breath. He grabbed all his things and stuffed them in his bag. He placed Ms. Miguel, safely in an outer pocket of his bag. Stiles didn’t have time to cheer in triumph because Derek grabbed his wrist and hauled him out of the library. Stiles was tugged less than gently and he was about to voice his displeasure when Derek slammed him against the wall of an empty corridor.

“Oh fuck! I’m sorry. I promise I won’t do something like that a—”

But then Derek captured his lips. _Oh._

Derek pressed his mouth to Stiles, gentle but firm. He slid his large hands up Stiles’ back and into his hair. Stiles made an involuntary noise when he felt Derek’s tongue flicking against his. Heat coiled low in Stiles’ body. He placed his palms on Derek’s chest, and he opened his mouth just a fraction, eager for more.

There was a brush of teeth against his lower lip. Stiles gasped and his hands came to Derek’s waist pulling him closer. Derek moved his hips unconsciously. At least, Stiles thought he did. It wasn’t like Derek to be this forward in the middle of the day. Although, Stiles wasn’t complaining.

Derek was perfect around him all lazy movements. He thought he would drown in it.

_“Eww guys. Get a room.”_

Stiles head snapped to where Cora and Scott stood. He then thunked his head against the wall, thankfully Derek’s hand cushioned the impact. When Derek pulled back, Stiles flipped Cora off.

Derek straightened himself out, pretending he hadn’t been caught. Stiles decided to follow his lead. “Are you two headed for lunch?” Stiles asked.

“Yeah,” Scott answered and then he grinned. “Are you?”

Stiles rolled his eyes and got the sudden urge to shove his friend. He was still too far away so Stiles settled with tugging Derek to the Great Hall. The Gryffindors chased after them. Scott slung an arm over his shoulder and Stiles grinned.

The four entered the Great Hall, and headed to the Hufflepuff table. Stiles sat by Danny. His eyes roamed their little pack and noticed quickly someone was missing.

Cora noticed too. “Hey where’s Boyd?”

Erica pointed with her fork at the Ravenclaw table as she chewed her food. Stiles looked over his shoulder and saw him talking with Kira. Well, Boyd seemed to be talking while Kira stared at him with her wide eyes. With the two times he had trained with Kira, he was already able to discern that the twitch at her left foot meant she wanted to flee by back flipping five feet into the air.

“That’s strange.” Scott commented. “Why is he talking with her?”

“They have Transfiguration together.” Erica replied. “He was asking her about the essay.”

“Why didn’t he ask us?” Isaac questioned.

Lydia rolled her eyes, “It’s because he’s trying to figure out why she keeps running from us.”

Derek snorted. Everyone turned to him. “Have you guys not figured it out yet?” Derek asked.

Stiles knew of course, he trained with her, but the others didn’t know that. So he kept quiet. But how did Derek? Jackson was the only one who didn’t seem to care as he continued eating.

Allison sitting between Erica and Isaac leaned forward to whisper. “It’s something that’s scared of werewolves isn’t?”

“She knows what we are?” Isaac exclaimed.

“Isaac, shut up.” Derek reprimanded. But when he noticed the other students minding their own business he leaned across the table to whisper back to Allison.  “Yeah. She can smell it.” Derek answered.

“Can you smell her?” Lydia asked, intrigued.

“I can _see_ it.”

Confusion struck the pack; Derek sighed. “If you look at her with your _special_ eyes, you can see it.”

All the werewolves turned to her and inconspicuously kept their heads down. Scott was the first to see her. “What is that?” He exclaimed, shooting back to Derek.

“A kitsune.” Stiles answered before Derek could. He picked off a carrot and threw it in his mouth.

“She’s what?!” Lydia exclaimed her eyes went to Kira. Stiles was a little alarmed as he heard Lydia mutter under her breath, “I wanna study and dissect you.”

Lydia and Scott’s outburst though made Kira flinch. Her head snapped to them. The pack unsuccessfully pretended they were minding their own business.

Kira jumped as she noticed so many people looking to her. She tried to resume her conversation with Boyd, but Boyd was already pulling her toward their table.

“Hello everyone, this is Kira.” Boyd grinned. He sat next to Isaac. Kira remained standing. She bowed. “Hi everyone.” Her eyes fell on Stiles. “Hi Stiles.”

The pack sent him a shocked look that Kira knew his name. “Do you wanna join us?” Stiles asked.

Kira nodded shyly and then sat next to Boyd.

“So you’re a kitsune?” Lydia immediately asked. The others groaned at her lack of tact.

“Uh yeah, you told them?” Kira looked like she had been betrayed.

“No,” Derek defended Stiles. “You’re not hiding your aura.”

“Oh shoot.” Kira closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I always forget to do that every morning.”

“I’m sorry what the hell is a kitsune?” Scott asked.

“Nine tailed fox.” Kira answered as low as she could.

“Another fox?” Isaac’s wary was evident, as was everyone’s.

Stiles saw where the pack was heading. “Nothing like Blake guys. She’s the real deal.”

“Of course she is,” Lydia gaped. She got up from between Danny and Jackson and went to sit on Derek’s right so she was in front of Kira. “You must tell me all about yourself.”

Kira’s eyes glanced at Stiles. Stiles spoke with a mouthful of food. “She does that. This is the pack by the way. Simple things you need to know to survive, Derek is head honcho.” Kira bowed her head in his direction with panic still evident in her eyes. “Lydia here is a psychotic crazy genius and not of the furry type more of the screaming type.”

Kira looked confused for a moment and then she smiled. “Oh! That’s why you smell weird. You’re a Banshee?” She whispered the last part.

Lydia nodded.

Stiles continued. “This is Danny and Boyd. They’re cool, won’t mess with you. Jackson is a pretentious ferret head, be wary of him.” Jackson flipped off Stiles. “Scott is our cute adorable but awesome mascot.” Scott glared. “Watch out for Cora and Erica they’re just crazy.” Neither girl denied it. “And Isaac another mascot of ours.”

“Nice to meet you all.”

“So tell us, why do you always run from us?” Lydia interrogated.

“Um...foxes and wolves tend not to get along.” She whispered.

“There’s no need to worry about that,” Derek assured her. “We don’t harm anyone and you are welcome to join us. You’re the one who's been helping Stiles, right?” Derek’s words were softened as Ms. Miguel had crawled its way out of Derek’s bag and was sitting on his shoulder.

Kira blushed. “Yes and thank you.”

“Great,” Lydia waved a hand, becoming impatient. “Now introductions are over tell us about you.”

Stiles saw that Kira was embarrassed from all the attention but she seemed so enamored with the group that Stiles couldn’t help but smile at everything she said.

When dinner came around, and Kira and Stiles finished their meals, they headed to the Forest for training.  

“So?” Stiles asked Kira.

“So what?”

“How do you like the group.”

“Not sure.”

“Excellent choice in words.”

“No I meant, I don’t really have much to compare them too. I haven’t had many friends. I mean I had a few when I lived in South Korea but then I had to switch to the school in Japan last year because there was a spirit I had to take care of there. It just made more sense if I was in the area, but anyway, when I switched, it was hard to make friends, everyone had their cliques and I wasn’t the type of student that stood out very much. I’m average in classes, average in magic, I do poorly in Potions, reason I’m not taking it here at Hogwarts, and I kept to myself. And then I had to switch here.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I like being surrounded by different cultures. It’s interesting. And your friends are too even though they are…”

Stiles mouth opened wide as he saw a ‘w’ form on her lips. “You’re not prejudiced against them are you?”

“NO!” Kira exclaimed. “Uh...I was serious when I said we don’t get along. It’s my instinct to want to run from them, not because of society, but just generally it’s a predator thing.”

“Ah, well I promise you have nothing to worry about.”

“I can see that.” She smiled. “I was going to say weird by the way.”

“You should hang out with us. The others already like you and I’m positive Lydia wants to ask you a bunch of questions.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude with your friends.”

“It’s fine! Our little clique didn’t form when we came to Hogwarts. It started out small, just me and Scott and it’s expanded over the years. If you join us, you can tell me all the crazy spirits you’ve killed.”

Kira frowned. “I haven’t killed any spirit.”

“I know, I know. The term is restored. But c’mon!”

Kira bit her lip but the she nodded. “Only if you tell me what you’ve done.”

“What makes you think we have a story?”

There was knowing twinkle in her eyes. “I can sense it.”

“Fine. Fair is fair. Now, c’mon your mom is going to kill me if we’re late.”

“No, she’s not.”

“Obviously you haven’t noticed the way she looks at me.”

Kira laughed. “I’ve noticed. Torture is more likely than death.” She winked at him and took off with her kitsune speed to the Forest.

|~~***~~|

“We need to go into the pranking business again,” Stiles announced one Saturday afternoon in the Transfiguration Courtyard. He would have been with Derek but Derek was working on an essay for Charms. He left Derek mostly to himself because it was Derek’s last year and Derek was stressing. Also, Derek threatened to kick him out of the Room and Stiles wisely left running before Derek could hex him.

Scott and Cora, who were enjoying a game of Exploding Snap, grinned.

“Halloween is coming up,” Scott said. He looked up where Stiles was sitting in the alcove.

Cora laid down a card. “Yeah, but the professors know people always pull pranks on holidays. We’ll get caught.”

Stiles leaned in close. “Not unless we do a diversion prank.”

Scott scrunched his brows. “What do you mean?”

“We have a fake prank so we lull the staff into a false sense of security so they are like— we don’t have to worry about this now!”

“That’s genius!” Scott announced right as a card exploded.

Cora waved the smoke out of her face. “Let’s create two.”

Stiles snorted. “Two?”

“We have the time. It’s barely the first week of October. The staff wouldn’t expect us to do three pranks in one month now would they?”

“But three?” Scott whined. “That’s kind a lot of planning.”

“I like it.” Stiles agreed with her quickly.

“What can be our first prank though?” Cora asked.

Stiles’ eyes lit up. He snapped his fingers and pointed at Scott. “Let’s borrow Posey.”

Scott immediately shut him down. “No.”

“Why not?”

“You are not involving my owl.”

“But it’s perfect. I promise he won’t get hurt. And you know what, you don’t even know what it is!”

Scott gave him a blank stare. “What is it?”

“Well I was thinking of unleashing a bunch of owls in the castle and have them drop an endless supply of balloons filled with egg yolks.”

“Their claws would break it.” Scott replied.

“And other people aren’t going to lend us their owls and the school’s owls aren’t trained that well to pull off a prank like that.” Cora gathered the cards to start another game.

Stiles leaned back against the alcove pillar. His arms crossed over his chest. “Damn.”

“We can make them.” Scott said as Cora dealt the cars.

“Make owls? Scott, you can barely do the bird-conjuring spell in Transfiguration.”

Scott pushed Stiles’ dangling leg in retaliation for the insult. “No, we animate them. Remember in second year we tried to animate the hippogriff so you could woo Lydia?”

“You did what?” Cora screwed up her counting and started again.

“I was twelve. Don’t judge!”

With the most deadpanned face Cora merely said, “Oh my god.”

“Well yeah,” Scott continued. “We can animate them but instead of working with a difficult material like stone, we use paper mache.”

“What’s that?”

“Muggle craft project.” Cora answered.

“Will they look realistic enough?”

“If we do it right. We can use Posey as a reference to see how owls behave. And then we can go to the owlery and pick up a bunch of stray feathers.”

“We are going to have to make them by hand if we are going to animate them. We don’t want our spells mixing with the construction ones.” Cora said.

“I don’t know.” Stiles sighed. “Something about it is amateurish. We need to cause mayhem not only for the students but the staff too.”  

_“You can always number them one through ten.”_

“Woah!” Stiles fell of the banister at Kira’s sudden appearance. Stiles coughed out the grass he had inhaled and faced the Ravenclaw.

“Sorry. I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation.” She mumbled.

“Name them one through ten?” Cora asked, ignoring Stiles’ awkward fumbling.

The girl nodded. “I remember when I used to go to school in Korea, the whole school would get involved in pranks. During our Lotus Lantern Festival somebody released a bunch of Samjok-O that started causing havoc all over the place. The person numbered them two through ten. The staff spent three hours trying to look for a creature that wasn’t there.

“That’s perfect!” Stiles exclaimed. “See you do have the trickster gene!”

“Do you want to help?” Scott asked nicely.

“Um...I’m good.” She blushed.

Stiles tried to convince her. “You sure? Pranksters are always granted sanctuary from being pranked.”

“Um…”

“C’mon.” Cora said with as much emotion she could muster, “We can always use another girl.”

Kira still looked unsure. Scott gave her a goofy grin. “Trust me. It will be fun.”

Kira licked her lips as she nodded hesitantly. She sat down with the group.

“Ok. Great.” Stiles shouted. He turned to Cora. “Where are we going to get paper mache?”

“Muggle Studies classroom.” Cora said. “The first years are working on arts and crafts.”

“Perfect.” Stiles clapped. “Let’s get ready for Operation Egg-Splossive.”

“Operation what?” Kira giggled.

“It’s best you ignore anything preposterous that comes out of his mouth.” Cora informed the girl. “It saves everyone loads of trouble and time.”

Stiles made a face.

“It’s also best, “ Scott began to add, “That if Stiles tries to manipulate you into anything that will get you detention or expelled instead of him, you have every right to hex him and say no.”

Kira laughed. “Noted.”

“Scott, Cora, remind me why we are best friends?”

“Uh, cause Scott and I suffered too many spells to the head at one point or another in our lives,” Cora answered.

“I like to think it’s because Stiles fell for my dorky smile. Makes for a much cuter story.” Scott said.

Kira laughed harder and Stiles rolled his head. “I hate you both.”

“Established.” Cora remarked. “Now let’s get on with the plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes! Updated a day sooner than expected. Now sad news again, as usual not sure when I will update. I return to college (my last year yay) on Monday so updates might be slower or faster (I tend to procrastinate a lot in college).
> 
> Anyway what did you think of this chapter. Yukimura? Training? Scott yelling at Stiles? Morrell? Ms. Miguel? Oh and special thanks to Dororo03, jamesm97, and iMOCKusALL for wonderful suggestions on Derek's pet. (Sorry if I missed anyone-tell me in the comments if I did) I tried to mix all your suggestions together. 
> 
> Random tidbits for this chapter. I choose Scott to yell at Stiles instead of Derek, cause I don't think Derek yells very much (that's Stiles' job) Derek broods and glares. 
> 
> I actually did tons of research for kitsunes, I still took some liberty with it to mix it into the hp universe, but I feel it's not that far off the lore. Kira's mask by the way works the same way as Death Eaters from what you see in the movies and it looks like a kitsune [MASK](http://img05.deviantart.net/90d7/i/2011/053/1/1/fox_masks_2_by_mishutka-d3a6xjo.jpg)
> 
> I did a lot of research for Morrell too. It was something I did have planned from the start of my story for her to originate from this temple, but I had to research the practice of henosis a lot for this explanation. 
> 
> Oh and I'm going to be using sprinkles of Japanese and Korean. I speak a little Japanese and speak Korean like a three year old, but my grammar sucks in both, so if anyone does speak them please message me in case I have any questions. 
> 
> And as a final note:  
> Here is the [POLL](http://www.poll-maker.com/poll390160x87374bE3-15) I know a few of you are worried I am going to do something bad, but I'm not. I promise from the bottom of my heart, it is nothing bad, it's actually very cute or funny depending on the character who wins.
> 
> EDIT: So I've realized there's been a lot of scenes in my Moonwalker story I haven't been able to write and I haven't been able to fill all your requests. It's not that I don't like them, but this story is way too long as it is. But anyway, I want to announce when I finish this story I will be taking prompts for this story. Updates on this matter will come later.


	48. Stage 1 and 2 of Pranks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and his gang of mischief makers terrorize Derek and the rest of the school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sexual content ahead.

“Why are you all sticky and covered in white gunk?” Derek asked distastefully.

Stiles grinned and rubbed the side of his cheek where he still had glue that had dried over. “Oh that’s a line every guy wants to hear in a room full of blackmailing Slytherins, thanks Derek.”

Derek rolled his eyes and glanced around the Slytherin common room. “No one heard. It’s not like I’m making a ruckus...like some people.”

Stiles pulled off the dried glue and tried to smudge it in Derek’s hair. Derek’s lips upturned just a tad as he pretended to push Stiles away. In their little brawl, Stiles heard a whistle followed by his name.

He spun and saw Brett lying down on the giant black leather couch as he read for his Potions class. One leg was on the ground the other thrown over the back of the couch. “Hey Stiles, we’re good for tomorrow?”

Stiles smiled. “Yeah except this time it’s at seven.”

“Awesome that gives me time to go to the Hospital Wing. You left me all sore.”

Stiles felt Derek stiffen behind him.

Bett grinned and glanced at Derek mischievously. “And Great Salazar! I haven’t rode something like that in ages. My ass hurts.”

Stiles immediately saw where Brett was taking this and spun around before Derek could make a scene. “He’s our alternate Beater. Jackson had me doing practice rounds with him last night.”

“You take all the fun away Stilinski!” Brett whined and went back to reading.

Derek glared at the pureblood Slytherin a little longer before giving Stiles full intense concentration. “Right. So why are you sticky?” He reached for Stiles and pulled from his hair a single feather that had glitter, “And covered in glitter and feathers?”

Stiles’ eyes opened wide. He couldn’t have the Head Boy knowing. All of their plans would be wasted. He went into immediate lying mode, which he knew Derek could sense. “I got in a little tumble with a first year.”

Derek played along. “Over what?”

“I wanted to borrow his craft supplies so I can make you a sweet corny letter.”

“And where is this letter?”

“Scott ate it.”

Derek huffed. “I’m not going to ask.” He stood straighter. “You ready?”

“Yup.” Stiles offered his elbow toward Derek. Derek stared at the appendage like it offended him and kept walking.

Stiles went after him and draped himself on Derek’s back to give him a quick hug. He pulled back and the two left Hogwarts to head toward Hogsmeade.

At the doors, the pack was waiting for them. He could see that Kira was among them and speaking with Boyd. Stiles noticed that Boyd had taken a quick liking to the girl, most likely because the two had introverted demeanors. He could see Erica looking a little put off at the display, but her conversation with Isaac kept her from elongating her claws.

The pack left together and headed toward Hog’s head.

As they entered, they saw that the place was packed, which was expected seeing it was the first week when students were allowed to go to Hogsmeade. The poor staff members were scurrying back and forth carrying orders or drinks and food. The hostess glanced in their direction and panicked a little more.

“We’ll wait,” Scott assured her. The little witch nodded and went to go help a waiter. It took twenty minutes for them to be seated. They ordered their drinks and when the waitress came back with them, she accidentally tripped. Jackson saw it coming and moved his stool sharply back, leaving poor Lydia in the middle of it.

Lydia shrieked. “Seriously?”

The witch gasped and fussed. “Oh, I’m sorry mam.”

“No, it’s alright.” Lydia ushered the girl away politely, despite her obvious grimace. Lydia pulled out her wand to place a cleaning spell. “Damn, it’s gonna leave a stain.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have worn your best outfit.” Jackson uttered.

Lydia sent a sharp glare. “Maybe if you stayed in the line of fire instead of backing away from the butterbeer like it was a hex, we wouldn’t be having this discussion.”

Jackson rolled his eyes. “Merlin, you always act like an ass when it comes to your clothes.”

“Don’t complain about my ass like you hate it.”

“...Do you really need to start that here?”

“Don’t bring it up and I won’t have to say anything. Anyway, it’s your damn job to make sure nothing like this happens to me.”

“Oh it’s my damn job?” Jackson snorted, “I’m sorry, was there a boyfriend contract I didn’t hear about? Because if there was, that’s pretty backwards for your little feminist values.”

“It’s my feminist values that convinced you it’s perfectly ok to enjoy servicing someone else over your own needs, as many men are led to believe that men’s pleasure comes first.” Lydia examined her nails while Jackson’s face turned a bright red.  

At this point, all other conversation ceased at the table and all eyes were on the pair at the end. Kira’s cheeks were a little pink because of the topic but everyone else looked overly amused.

“Because dear,” Jackson gritted through his teeth, “You wouldn’t be able to talk in your high-pitched, loud voice if we didn’t switch. I’m protecting the integrity of your throat and doing you a favor.”

“Oh, so now you’re taking your boyfriend duties seriously? I’m pretty sure you were insisting, not offering.”

Jackson grunted in frustration. “Lydia, just stop.”

“Why? We’re having so much fun together.”

“I’m going to kill you Lydia—I swear on Merlin.”

“If you do then who’s going to put up with you and your—” Jackson grabbed Lydia and pressed a searing kiss on her lips to shut her up.

Cora, Stiles, Erica, and Isaac cracked up.  

Jackson pulled away and Lydia’s eyes were full of mirth. “Are you done?” Jackson asked. Lydia shrugged. They stayed like that, glaring daggers at each other before Jackson groaned and offered to replace Lydia’s new dress.

“You guys are the best,” Erica grinned.

“Wait, I thought you two were together,” Kira murmured.

“Oh they are; that’s just how they show they care.” Allison laughed.

“It’s apparently a trend.” Danny said, glancing at Derek’s and Stiles’ direction. The Hufflepuff-Slytherin pair rolled their eyes, but then Stiles shouted in pain.

“Fuck, Derek.” The table trembled as Stiles knee hit it from underneath. “Do you have any idea how to play footsie?” He rubbed his shin under the table.

Derek sipped his firewhiskey before saying. “If you didn’t put your foot on my dick you wouldn’t be in pain. You’re lucky I didn’t use my fork,” Derek threatened.

Scott and the Hufflepuffs snorted. Jackson and Cora made gagging noises.

“Anyway,” Cora said loudly, steering the conversation far far away. “We still need to get that.”

Scott’s, Stiles’, and Kira’s gasped.

“Right that!” Scott shouted.

Derek’s eyes narrowed. “I swear, if you guys are making a prank for Halloween—”

“Prank!” Stiles voice cracked.

“—And dragging the whole school down with you again; I am going to—”   

“We would never do such thing,” Scott announced standing up. He grabbed Kira’s arm to lift her from the seat.

“Right. We are way too mature to do things like that.” Stiles said.

Cora stood as well. “They are so right. I mean after what happened last time with all that detention. You think we would have learned our lesson.”

Derek sighed. “Whatever.”

“Great!” Stiles leaned over Derek and gave him a quick peck on the lips, “Stop being angry,” He smiled before storming out of the pub.

Cora dragged Kira a safe distance.

“What was that about?” She asked.

“Derek is Head Boy. He takes his job very seriously.” Stiles answered.

“He thinks he’s the bloody minister.” Cora huffed. “Now come on we need to buy the customizable water balloons from Zonko’s and fill them up by tomorrow.”

As Stiles and Cora paid for the balloons, Scott leaned against the cash register. “Hey can we invite Isaac to our pranks?”

Stiles nearly dropped the change. “What? No!” He said scandalized.

“We invited Kira.”

“Cause she contributed.”

“Isaac, can contribute.”

“You just want him around cause he thinks of you as his blood brother,” Cora interrupted. She grabbed the shopping bag and began heading out.

“He’s your what now?” Stiles shouted.

“He’s not. We’re close, I guess. We hang out when you go off with Derek.”

Stiles recalled the two had been spending a lot of time together. “Since when have you been buddy buddy with him?”

“Since we went to Chessington World of Adventures Resort.”

“You went to Chessington without me!”

“We were banned from seeing each other for the summer!”

“Nope! That’s it! I’m not talking to you for the next five minutes.”

“Anyway,” Cora remarked, waiting patiently for their little love spat to be over, “I agree with Stiles. Isaac sucks at lying and he would get caught by Derek.”

Scott pouted. “Fine. Oh shoot.”

“What?” Kira questioned.

“We forgot to buy owl eyes.”

Stiles groaned.

Scott smiled, “I’ll go get them, you guys head back to the castle. I’ll catch up.”

“Alright,” Stiles said waving him off.

Scott watched him head back with the girls for a few seconds before turning around and heading back to Zonko’s. He grabbed the googly magical eyes and paid for them quickly. As he pushed open the door, the bell overhead rung, he spotted Lydia and Allison walking down the road.

Allison froze as did Scott.

Lydia looked between them and rolled her eyes as she flung a strand over her shoulder. She patted Allison’s arm. “I’ll see you back in the castle.”

Both of them watched the strawberry blonde walk away. They saw her catch the attention of Erica and the blonde rushed over and threw an arm over the girl.

Scott turned back to Allison slowly. “Hi.”

The hunter lowered her gaze, took a deep breath, then met Scott. “Hi.”

“Um…” Scott felt his cheeks flush. He pushed forward, “Are we good?”

“I should ask that of you.”

Scott rubbed the back of his neck while Allison remained unnaturally still. “Yeah. I’m good.”

“That doesn’t sound very convincing.” She grimaced.

“Sorry...just. You. Wait. Let me start over. I’m sorry.”

“Excuse me?”

“I messed up. I know that. I had a lot of time to think about what I did and I know I screwed up and I see why you were so upset.”

Allison put on a mask that Scott had never seen before. “I don’t know what you want out of this apology.”

“Nothing. I really only want you to know that I understand why you broke up with me. I’m sorry I put you in a position like that.”

Allison sighed and crossed her arms. “This doesn’t mean we are going to get back toget—”

“—I know. After doing something like that, I don’t think we would be able to go back to what we were.” Scott licked his lips, thinking. “And what we were, was just something we jumped into too quickly.”

Allison released a puff of air.

Scott’s scrunched his brows. “What?”

“I’m happy to know that I wasn’t the only who thought that. We got together too quickly, before we even knew each other and I think that’s what might have caused this.”

“Yeah.” Scott’s fist awkwardly hit his thigh.

“I want to apologize too.”

“For what?”

“For causing you all that pain during the full moon; that wasn’t my intention. I thought of only myself when I broke up with you and perhaps we should have talked the issue over before I chose to randomly spring that break up with you. Maybe you wouldn’t have fallen so far from your anchor.”

“Honestly, I think it was for the best.” Scott bit his lip, then added. “I feel stronger.”

Allison smiled, after a pause “I do too.”

“So we are good?”

“Yeah.”

Scott smiled brightly. “Awesome. I look forward to sparring with you again in DADA.”

Allison chuckled. “Same.” She glanced down and noticed the bag Scott was carrying. “You better head back to the others before they get impatient.”

“Right. See you later.”

As they parted they both felt their breaths come a little easier.

|~~***~~|

“So what’s our second prank?” Stiles asked munching on an apple. He watched in satisfaction as a group of second year Ravenclaws were running from the paper mache owls that kept dropping water balloons in the shape of eggs on them. The eggs cracked on their heads spraying egg yolks in their hair and robes.

“I was thinking something with a nice bang.” Cora commented. She grinned as the Ravenclaws took out their wands to hex the owl. The owl screeched at them and then camouflaged into its surrounding, safely flying away and searching for its next target.

“Fireworks?” Kira asked. She flinched as another student got egged.

“Hmm...fireworks that can work,” Stiles bit into his apple again. “It’s a simple, annoying, and not to mention a classic—”

_“Stiles! Run!”_

Stiles looked over his shoulder as he saw Scott sprinting toward him. Derek was hot on his tail and completely covered in egg yolks. “Oh fuck!” Stiles dropped his apple and fell off the alcove in his haste to get away. He scrambled up and tried to run from Derek, who was obviously teed off at their prank.

But Stiles couldn’t outrun a werewolf. Especially one that was angry.

_“Locomotor Wibbly!”_

Stiles’s legs wobbled and soon his nose hit the ground as Derek threw a Jelly-Legs Jinx at him. Stiles tried to crawl away, screaming and making random noises, but Derek grabbed the back of his robes and hauled him up, pinning him to a wall in a crowded hallway. Oh that was good, it meant Derek was less likely to murder him with witnesses all around.

“Hey, what’s up Derek.” Stiles took in his appearance. The yolk was dribbling from his hair down the side of his face. Any angrier and Stiles was sure Derek would be cooking eggs on his head.

In the background, Stiles heard a few girls screech as one of the owls hit them.

Derek growled. “Banish them.”

“Banish what?”

“The owls you made.”

“I didn’t make the owls.”

Derek’s eyes narrowed.

“Hey, I didn’t. Kira and Scott made them. Cora and I apparently suck at arts and crafts. Our owls looked like manticore shit.”

“I don’t care. Banish them.”

Stiles tried to become smaller. “Ah, you see about that. I can’t.”

Derek breathed out deeply from his nose. “Why?”

“Well um...a very high repellant charm was placed on it. Cora is probably the only one able to actually do it. And if you can get her to banish them, I promise I won’t prank for the entire year.”

Derek pulled away. They both knew the task was impossible. Cora was especially stubborn.

_“Stilinski!”_

Stiles saw Finstock coming down the hallway and dripping in egg yolks. Somehow the Head of Gryffindor managed to get the eggs in his shoes as they made an unpleasant squishing noise with every step. “Ah shit.”

Derek grabbed his shoulder so he wouldn’t move. Which hello, still jinxed Derek! There was no way he was going to run away, although maybe he could roll down the stairs a few feet away.

“Aw c’mon Derek! Please.” Stiles whined, grabbing at his boyfriend’s chest.

“No.”

Stiles glanced at Finstock then back at Derek, “Please?”

Derek did not relent.

Stiles flinched as Finstock stood two feet away from him.

“Stilinski! Are you responsible for this mess?”

“No.” Stiles lied. “Why would I do something like this?”

“Because this has you written all over it.” He took out his wand and banished an owl behind him. “Now, where is owl number one?”

“I didn’t do this prank, it’s completely juvenile. C’mon Finstock, you know if I had done this I would have filled the water balloons with more than just egg yolks. Glue would be a fun alternative or glue with glitter. Did you know that magic glitter is the herpes of the craft world? I recently discovered this with a fight with a first year. I had glitter in places you couldn’t imagine would cause the strangest reaction with pub—”

Finstock glanced at Derek. Derek answered, “He’s lying. He did it with his usual gang of pranksters.”

“Of course he is. Look at him. Again, where in the hell is owl number one?”

“I have no idea. We sent the owls on a random course.”

“Goddammit Stilinski.” Finstock then began to shout a slur of obscenities. “Twenty points from Slytherin.”

“Hey! What about Gryffindor? They helped too.”

Finstock looked reluctant to take points away from his own house especially since they were in the lead.

“Twenty points from Gryffindor,” Derek said.

Stiles smiled. “Thank you our fair Head Boy. I have detention right? Can we schedule it for Friday? I have a study session with Lydia and Boyd for Arithmancy tomorrow.”

Finstock’s eye twitched. “No. Detention tomorrow in my office. Bring Scott and Cora.”

“Scott and Cora have Quidditch practice tomorrow, you don’t want you Gryffindor team suffering because they aren’t practicing right?”

Finstock shouted unintelligibly in Stiles’ face. “No. You have detention tomorrow in my office. Scott and Cora will serve theirs on Friday.”

Stiles groaned. “What? But.”

“Ah!” Finstock interrupted.

“That’s not.”

“Ah!”

“How can you!”

“Ah!”

Stiles groaned and shouted loudly, “Fine!”

Finstock nodded, pleased with his authority. He gave Derek a congratulations for catching the perpetrator. He then turned away.

“Wait! Professor!” Stiles shouted. “Can I bring snacks?”

Finstock turned back to him and then actually thought about it, “Bring Cauldron Cakes.”

Stiles smiled and saluted. Finstock sighed and then went down the hallway in search of an owl that didn’t exist.

“You didn’t rat out Kira?” Derek asked.

“She’s new.” Stiles glanced down at his legs. “Um...are you going to remove the spell?”

Derek glanced down then back up. His hand went in Stiles’ robes. Stiles tried to squirm away as Derek confiscated his wand. “Nope.” He stepped back. His grip on Stiles loosened.

“Derek! Derek!” Stiles cried as he began to slide down the wall.

The Head Boy looked at the other students who had been watching the scene play out. He shrugged and reached inside his pocket. He handed Stiles, Ms. Miguel. “You can enjoy each other’s company, while the spell fades.”

“Derek! Ow!” He sucked on his thumb from where the Pygmy Puff bit him. “I’m sorry!” His shout went unheard as Derek headed to the stairs.

|~~***~~|

“Fuck. We are going to die aren’t we?” Scott whispered to Cora and Stiles.

“Kira was smart for not wanting to take part in this prank.” Cora muttered.

The three were currently on the first floor of the castle where all the staircases lined up. They crouched behind a large staircase to avoid being seen by stragglers. It was still dinner time, but the three opted to ditch their meals in favor of the prank. They had bought over six dozen fireworks and lined them up in the middle of the floor, waiting to cause havoc.

“Yup. Ok.” Stiles pulled out a magical match, the tip already lit. “We throw this in there, there is no coming out unscathed. Are you guys ok with that?”

“No.”

“No.”

“Me neither.” Stiles said quickly. He looked at the pile of fireworks. He had bought the good kind, it would be a waste of money to not light them. "I’m gonna do it anyway.” He said on a whim of poor impulse control.

“Wait!” Scott grabbed his hand. “Let’s think this through. What is the worst thing that can happen to us?”

“We get expelled.” Cora said.

Stiles scoffed. “Deaton wouldn’t let us get expelled.”

Scott eyed them both. “So what’s the next worst thing?”

“We get detention the day of a Quidditch match.” Cora answered.

Scott and Stiles felt their hearts clench in agony at that thought. Scott whined, “Would they really postpone it that long? It’s still October.”

“For this, hell yeah.”

“But just think of Finstock’s and Harris’ face.” Stiles groaned. “You know I’ve been wanting to prank that slimy a-hole.”

“Fuck, it would be brilliant.” Cora sighed, “But Stiles— _Quidditch!_ ”

“I know, too much is at stake with this.”

“Why don’t we save it till the end of the year? When Quidditch can’t be threatened anymore.” Scott suggested.

“Alright. Yeah I’m good with that plan. We’ll think of a second diversion prank. C’mon let’s go get dinner,” Stiles slowly stood up. In his usual spazzy state, his foot caught on practically nothing at all and he tripped, falling forward onto the stash of fireworks. His hand uncurled and in slow-motion the three watched as Stiles’ match flipped and tumbled onto the first chain of firecrackers. Stiles panicked. And knew it was too late.

“Uhh…” Stiles stared at the sizzling trial of sparks. He slowly rose to his feet again. And in all Slytherin pride of every man (or woman) for themselves, Stiles ran for his life, leaving the Gryffindors behind.

It took Cora and Scott a moment to react, chasing after the flailing Slytherin down the hall. As soon as they all turned the corner, they heard the fireworks echoing and banging against the walls and traveling up the staircase.

The two hid behind a turned hallway and peeked round the corner. They could see several students exiting the Great Hall to examine the commotion.

And that’s when all hell broke loose.

The firecrackers around the giant pile of larger fireworks finally lit.

Blue fireworks flew into the air into the shapes of pixies. They chased after heat and thus flew directly into students’ faces. Several students tried to run.

“We need to stop the fireworks!” Cora shouted over the commotion of students. Her eyes went to the next fireworks ready to be lit. They soared to the seventh floor like missiles and exploded with loud bangs shaking the portraits of the castle. The portraits murmured in discontent or shouted in distaste over their disturbed nap.

“Uh, unless you want to step in by my guest,” Stiles motioned and then his eyes widened as the largest firework that had cost a pretty galleon, lit. “Oh fuck.”

The firework expanded and then without warning exploded into a giant dragon. It flew high toward the seventh floor, it’s giant sizzling tail knocking portraits and slamming into the staircases. It roared proudly and then in one swoop came tumbling down. Students dropped to the ground to avoid it as it flew into the Great Hall.

It roared again and several students still dining, looked startled. And then finally, the dragon imploded into tinier fireworks that exploded in every direction. They banged against the tables and the staff’s. It knocked light fixtures and dispersed the enchanted ceiling.

When the light show was over, the entire Great Hall and practically the entire castle was left covered with a giant scorch mark of ash.

“We better run,” Stiles tugged at his friends.

“Won’t that be suspicious?” Scott said, running regardless.

“I’ll blackmail the Bloody Baron and have him vouch we were in the Slytherin Common Room the whole time. C’mon”

|~~***~~|

_Scholars quick definition of “body” as the “material frame of man (and animals)”—immediately sets before us one of the term’s principal controversies in magical theory. That is, what Felix Summerbee (1447-1508), would call the body as only the corporeal, modern Charm Masters define the “body” more elaborately. “The material body and its unseeable properties,” the physical nature of the human body in conjunction with it’s non-physical element has sent modern scholars in search of charms that can conceal the “body.” In the past five hundred years, spells and garments have been able to conceal individuals. Understanding the “body” and describing, depicting, and reproducing images of the body, allow one to perform the Revealing Charm (Homenum Revelio)._

Derek’s eyes looked up from his reading to the door. His mouth twitched as Stiles dragged himself across the Room. Patches of dirt, and dried orange leaves clinged in his hair. The smell of sweat and his Moonwalker scent all told Derek that Stiles just finished a night of training with the Yukimura family.

Derek bit his lip as Stiles sagged into the sofa. He spread his legs and arms as he moaned to the ceiling. Derek glanced back at his book and resumed taking notes on Revealing Charms. Stiles moaned again, obviously wanting attention.

Derek caved, “How did training go?”

“Brutal. And tiring.”

Derek tapped his quill against his notebook that was lying on his lap. He stared at Stiles again, “You feel better though, right?” He asked concernedly.

“Yeah yeah,” Stiles arms came over his head as he stretched. “Body is all cool.” He yawned. “Yukimura said that considering how much time I spend with you guys I have to train with her three times a week for at least another month. From there we are going to learn other stuff instead having Kira trip me face first into a tree.”

Derek chuckled. “You still can’t trap her?”

“No. She’s way too good.”

Derek made a quick note in his notebook. “Kitsunes tend to be fast.”

Stiles crawled on the sofa closer to the recliner chair. He dangled his arms off the armrest of the sofa while his legs splayed uncomfortably behind him. “Have you met one before?”

Derek didn’t hesitate to answer. Spending time with Stiles over the summer, had made Derek a little more comfortable opening up about his family before the fire. “Once. I was barely two or three years old, I don’t even think Cora had been born yet. She was from South Korea and was only there to give my mom some herbs she had ordered. The only thing I really remember was this woman turning into a fox and then my cousins playing tag with her.”

“Oh. Kira can’t turn into a fox yet.”

“I know.” Derek made another note. “She forgets to turn off her aura. I can see the outlines of her tails. She doesn’t have enough yet.”

“I can’t even imagine her getting all of them. She’s super fast and I would hate to fight with her if she used her katana. I haven’t seen her use it yet but I can tell she’s good at it. Scott says during DADA she even uses her wand like a sword so for that _skill_ to carry over...”

Derek chuckled. He wiped his mouth to stop it.

Stiles tilted his head on the armrest. “What?”

“It sounds like you have a crush on her.”

“I see her as a friend.” Stiles pushed himself up, “I’m surprised you aren’t more jealous about it.”

Derek looked up. “It’s Kira.”

“Well then you shouldn’t get jealous when I speak to a certain Slytherin.”

Derek’s jaw clenched and his quill quaked under his harsh hold. “It’s Talbott.”

“What do you have against Brett? I mean yeah he’s a little shit like any other Slytherin, but he’s not that bad compared to say Unger and Reddick.”

“You don’t have classes with them. Unger and Reddick keep mostly to themselves. Talbott likes everyone to know he’s there. He’s pretentious and loud...and he’s always making sexual remarks.” Derek flipped a page of his book and continued reading.

“It’s part of his personality.” Stiles sat properly again and leaned his head against the backrest. “And he doesn’t act on anything he says unless you want him to. And I _don’t_ want him to, so you don’t have to worry. So, you don’t have to constantly growl each time I’m in a ten foot radius of him. I have to hang out with him you know, we have Quidditch practice together.”

“Make Liam train with him, he’s your new Chaser.”

“Jackson is training Liam and the alternate Chasers. Liam is phenomenal but he’s not that good when it comes to combos so we need Jackson for that.  And Danny would do it, but then Unger and Reddick would have no one to train with. They need someone to practice with who can block all their attacks because they are our main players. Talbott is just our alternate so Jackson has me with him.”

“Exactly, Talbott is not even on the team so why bother?”

Stiles laughed and looked at him. Derek teared his eyes away from his book. His little green monster fizzled when he saw sparks of gold dance around Stiles’ eyes. “You’re fucking adorable.” Stiles grinned.

Derek scoffed and groaned. He rolled his eyes and went back to his homework. The recliner chair threatened to tip over as Stiles squeezed in beside him. Stiles kissed his temple. “You’re also amazing and I would never go out with someone like Brett. Ok?”

Derek couldn’t help but look over at Stiles. He smiled softly. Stiles got more comfortable and tucked his head on Derek’s shoulder.

“What are you doing anyway?” Stiles asked.

“Studying. I have a test in Charms next week.”

“You studying!”

“No,” Derek said sarcastically. “I’m reading this book and taking notes for fun.” His sarcastic face fell when he looked down at Stiles. “What?”

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious.”

“Why would I be serious about taking notes for fun?”

“I do it.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Of course you do.”

“But you’re seriously studying? You never study. You freak out for weeks on essays and prompts. But you never actually keep up with reading and study a week before a test.”

“Well I am.”

“Seventh year is that hard?”

“Yes.”

“Damn.” Stiles hands came round Derek’s back and stomach and he clutched tightly. “I’m dying already in sixth year course work. I can’t imagine what next year is going to be like.”

“Well you wouldn’t be if you actually did some work.”

“I am taking a break.”

“A break that’s been lasting a week?”

“Yup.”

Derek stopped reading to glare at the top of Stiles’ head. “It was you and the others with the fireworks, wasn’t it?”

“Psh no. How would I even smuggle illegal fireworks into the school.”

“You suck at lying, you know that?”

“You’re a werewolf. You can probably smell it on me.”

“No, it’s pretty much on your face.”

“Well it’s on your face.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“You like it.”

“Sadly.”

“Now enough studying.” Stiles sat up and grabbed his textbook and notes. He flung them to the coffee table, before swinging a leg over Derek’s thigh. “I didn’t come up here just to annoy you.”

Derek’s hands came to Stiles’ waist. He really was starting to love this position, looking up at Stiles, while he had that stupid smirk on.

“That’s a surprise. I’ve been under the impression that’s your favorite passtime.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’ll show you my favorite.”

Derek rolled his eyes at Stiles’ lame come-on but he really wouldn’t have it any other way. Derek slid his hands into Stiles’ hair, which was softer than usual considering that Jackson had been forcing him to apply hair product religiously. There was a subtle scent of mountain ash, that Derek didn’t really mind as he was coming to associate it with Stiles being healthy.

He looked up at Stiles’ higher vantage point, staring into his eyes.

Derek’s gaze fell to Stiles’ lips, then a second later, the two pressed against each other. Long gone was the impatient, awkward, inexperienced Stiles who used more teeth than anything, and in place was just an impatient sixteen year old. In some ways it was exciting, Stiles knew how to kiss a lot better, but it also meant sometimes Derek would second guess himself on breaking his resolve of the no sex rule with Stiles.

Like now, Derek bit Stiles’ lower lip and Stiles shuddered above him.

But he couldn’t break his no-sex rule, even though Derek felt unsatisfied of lying on his bed and beating one off to thoughts of the Slytherin.

Derek was a little shocked tonight however, as Stiles’ mouth was gentle but firm, his hands lazily resting on his shoulders. Stiles was usually very forceful and tended to go from zero to a hundred. He presumed Stiles’ behavior had to with the fact that Stiles’ was tired from training. Derek couldn’t complain as he made an involuntary noise when Stiles’ tongue lazily flicked against his lips. Heat coiled low in Derek’s body, and he opened his mouth without any hesitation.

The Hufflepuff’s hand slid down to Stiles’ thighs as Stiles began to move his hips in time with his mouth. Derek did not think Stiles was really thinking about doing it. There was this tiredness to his movements that was making all of this intensely erotic. He felt like he was going to drown in it. Derek’s hands gripped Stiles’ waist just a tad tighter and brought him down harder, just to feel any friction. Derek felt Stiles’ erection pressed snugly against his stomach. Stiles broke the kiss with a gasp and he leaned forward to press his forehead against Derek’s.

They looked up at each other for a brief moment. Stiles’ hands clenched on Derek’s shoulders and then he rolled his hips back down. Slow. Deliberate.

Derek grunted out a _“Fuck.”_

And then Stiles did it again. And again. Each one so slow and so good. The two didn’t break eye contact and their breaths intermingled as they continued. Each thrust made Stiles whine just a tad higher and Derek grunt just a little bit louder, but neither felt the incentive to move any quicker. They were too lost—

—And the door slammed open.  

_“There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”_

Stiles head thunked against his shoulder.

“Uh...Erica. I’m kind of busy.” Stiles answered.

Derek took the chance and looked up. The blonde girl walked into the room and stood by the sofa. She tapped her foot against the wooden floor. “Yeah, I don’t care.”

“Erica.” Derek growled. He glared at her and flashed his red eyes just as an extra warning.

Erica stuck out her tongue at him. She switched her weight from one to the other, cocking her hip. She examined her nails. “Just think of Finstock giving a strip tease to Harris with a Celestina Warbeck song playing in the background.”

Derek groaned distastefully because yeah that did the trick.

“Ew.” Stiles climbed off Derek’s lap.

“Yeah.” She turned back to him. “So are you coming? Oh sorry, bad choice in words. My bad. But it’s important.”

Stiles rubbed his messy hair. “Yeah whatever.” He leaned down and pecked Derek on the forehead. “I’ll see you later, good luck with studying.”

Stiles walked out of the Room with Erica. He let every voice of discontentment leek into his tone.  “Ok, what was so important that you interrupted?”

Erica grinned. Stiles just knew that she had enjoyed interrupting them. She was the living embodiment of a Huffleshit. “Morrell is looking for you.” She finally replied.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. She made it seem urgent.”

“Ugh fine.”

The two headed together and Erica escorted him to Morrell’s office. Morrell looked up and smiled at Erica. “Thank you, Erica.”

“No probs.” She winked at Stiles and then left the room, shutting the door behind her.

Stiles remained standing.

“What happened?”

She crossed her hands on her desk. “I thought we could begin your training again.”

Stiles licked his lips. “Umm…”

“Yes?”

“I’m kind of tired.” He said honestly. While making out with Derek was a strenuous activity, it was one that didn’t really require much thought. He wasn’t in the mood to be thinking about life at the moment, when all he wanted to do was sleep.

“That’s perfect. Being tired is a good thing. Less thoughts are clouding your subconscious. Now, c’mon we are going to sit on the floor today.” She stood from her desk. She pulled out her wand and summoned two yellow cushions. She sat cross legged on the floor and Stiles sat across from her.

“We are actually going to practice it?” Stiles asked, astounded. Morrell had been clear that she wanted to teach him the history of it first. And while the last few lessons were riveting, he thought he would still have a few more weeks to go before she had him do anything.

“Yes. We’ve gotten through the major theories of it. Not as much as I would like but it will have to do. Now, Henosis requires a bit of magic. I’m envious of the muggles who can meditate without it. It take a lot of concentration and tapping in within yourself to connect with your magic so intimately.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Stiles asked, watching her swirl her wand in the air. The room dimmed.

“You won’t be using your magic as you do with Yukimura. You will be following it, letting it guide you.” She summoned a jar and took out a few herbs. She placed them in the middle and then lit them. She blew out the fire and let the smoke circle in the air. “The first step is actually the most difficult. You have to imagine the entire universe. Hold it as clearly and distinctly in your mind as you possibly can within your palm. See the whole cosmos as if it’s inside an unimaginably vast transparent sphere.”

Stiles felt his mind glazing over with the fumes. “This sounds like Divination.”

“It is.” She took out another jar of herbs and lit this one too. He noted tiredly how closely related Herbology and Divination were. Stiles took another deep breath of the fumes. He felt awake and sleepy all at once.

“So Divination isn’t all rubbish like Lydia says?”

“She’s a bit of skeptic. Her head is too drawn in with numbers. Are you picturing the universe?”

“How do I imagine the universe? I’ve never seen it.”

“I said imagine, did I not?” She smiled. “Close your eyes; it helps.”

Stiles shut his eyes. “I still can’t picture anything. I don’t understand.”

“Let’s try this. Picture the Great Hall on the first day of the term. What does the enchanted ceiling look like?”

“Like a night sky.”

“Exactly. Picture it. Remove the students, the tables, the floor, the walls and just picture that sky.”

Stiles took a deep breath and did his best to do as told. It was a lot harder than it seemed. He didn’t know how long time had passed but he finally came to just picturing a sky. Without voicing anything, Morrell sensed he was able to do it.

“Good, now extend it far past what you can see. Add more stars, add shapes and constellations you’ve never seen before.”

Stiles gasped.

“Keep holding it and move it into a quaint little sphere in your palm that’s moving.”

Stiles did as instructed. He began adding shapes and colors and then he felt a little spark of magic. It felt exactly like his Moonwalker one. As Morrell said, he followed it down into his subconscious. It was gleaming red sparks of smoky haze. It swirled among the stars and galaxies, stood out against the pitch black sky. And then there was light. He began to create bigger shapes. Rocks smashing together and coming into a large grey sphere that glowed softly amongst a light he could not yet see.

He let his mind swirl against it and he set it in the cosmos. The giant grey sphere was the largest thing there. He grew curious and then stepped onto the rock. Stiles’ breath hitched. He saw white hair gliding against the grey rocky ground. And then a dress seemingly a part of the rock. The dress gave way to dark smooth skin. He followed it higher, upon bare shoulders, a long slim neck, high cheekbones, and then he saw red smoky eyes.

“I see a woman,” Stiles spoke to Morrell. The woman smiled softly and curled her finger to follow him. Stiles took a tentative step. Warmth embraced him from all sides, caressing his skin. Soft kisses of air brushed against his cheeks. “She’s on the moon.”

“You’re what?” Morrell hissed.

He stepped closer to the woman and took her hand. A rush of heat followed. But it did not burn. Inviting was the word most fitting. Home, his pack, his father, his mother appeared on the other side of a train station. The station was indescribable only a white misty flames surrounded the landscape of what used to be the dark universe. A train appeared blocking his view of everything he knew. But he was not scared. The heat was love and care. The name fell on his lips. _Pandia…_

_“Stiles!”_

The train flew with great haste. Wind knocked him back against a black canvas and the he saw the beginning of an exploding universe.

Stiles took a huge gulp of air. His eyes were immediately disorientated at the bright lights in the room and the stench of rotten eggs and fertilizer burned the hairs in his nostrils.

“Don’t do that.” Morrell spoke above him, sternly.

Stiles hadn’t even realized he had fallen back. “What happened?” She helped pull him back up into a sitting position.

“You delved yourself into the cosmos. You’re not supposed to do that. I said picture it and hold it in your hand.” She seemed reluctant to voice the next bit of information. “You were dying.”

Stiles looked up at her. Now knowing that he had a method of controlling his powers without harming his friends, set Stiles’ mind into a frenzy at the concept of death. He couldn’t die. That was too foreign to even picture.

For once Stiles did not allow his emotions to bleed into his face. He licked his lips and with the same solemnity Morrell had expressed, he replied back. “Sorry.”

Her chest rose with the long breath. “It’s fine. It was expected. That’s why this step is difficult, it’s hard to separate yourself from the universe. But how far did you get?”

“Far. I saw my magic.”

“You did? That’s actually better than expected it can take years for that. But I believe being a Moonwalker and tied to cosmos makes it a little easier for you.”

“My magic led me to Pandia.” Stiles spoke quickly. “I think.”

Morrell took in the quick change of conversation with ease. “Have you seen her before?”

“Once or twice. It was only during a full moon and when I was clutching my pendant.”

“And how did you feel on seeing her?”

“Scared but calm. She led me to her. She was warm and inviting and peaceful. That’s not what I pictured the source of Moonwalker magic to be. She’s not a killer.” He recalled the origins of his magic. Suddenly, a delay of emotions engulfed him, but they were not his own. They felt foreign and powerful. “She just wanted to help a creature no one else would.”

Morrell smiled another breath caused her chest to rise. “Our lessons will be canceled from here on out.”

Stiles broke out of his trance. “Why? I know I messed up but—”

“No, I don’t think they will be necessary anymore.”

“I don’t…”

“You say she’s not a killer. What does that mean for you?”

The lingering heat reminded him. _“Oh.”_

Stiles went back to the dorms. He walked in slowly. Danny was on his bed working on an essay while Jackson was practicing the newest Transfiguration spells. The two didn’t pay him any attention as he walked to the seat by the window. He reached under the cushion and grabbed the book and pendant.

His hand skimmed the cover. He sighed and walked back to his trunk, placing it softly inside. He grabbed the pendant and pulled it over his head. He met Jackson’s eyes and caught him smiling slightly. The ex-pureblood looked at him and then to pendant. Jackson scoffed and rolled his eyes and continued his spellwork.

Stiles grinned, feeling a lot lighter with the chain around his neck.

Later that night, the nightmares were gone.

 

|~~***~~|

“So two diversion pranks and still no real prank?” Cora accused.

“I’m thinking.” Stiles snapped. “Why do I have to come up with them?”

“Because when I tried, you said it was stupid.”

“Cause it was. There has to be something. It has to be Halloween themed that’s for sure.”

“Why don’t we go to library?” Scott suggested.

“Ugh no I hate research.” Cora stood up from her position on the floor.

“I’ll go.” Kira announced.

“Uh, you ok with that.?” Stiles asked, “I know we have that Charms essay due.”

“It’s ok.”

“Great.”

“Well.” Cora stretched and reached down for her bag. “I’m not going to go spend my day in the library. I’m gonna go find Erica. See you guys. Tell me if you come up with anything.”

Stiles and Scott sighed but headed with Kira to the library anyway. Upon entering, the girl zoomed across the shelves straight to the history section. Scott and Stiles shared a glance at her eagerness. They shrugged and each went to different sections, grabbing the familiar books they usually used. The two friends found a table in the back and began flipping through pages for any spellwork that seemed interesting. Kira came by their table ten minutes later with a large stack of books. Both boys flinched as the books tumbled on their table.

Kira bit her lip in embarrassment. “I like research.”

“We didn’t say anything.” Stiles assured.

Kira smiled and the three stayed silent going through the pages. Stiles grew restless immediately though. Many of the spells he had executed already on a smaller scale, there would be no fun to repeat a prank. He scratched the top of his head and turned to Scott.

“Find anything?”

“Nope.”

“Hmm. I can cause a diversion with the librarian while you sneak into the Restricted Section.”

“Alright,” Scott agreed easily. “Give me a list of what type of books you want.”

“Or,” Kira spoke shyly. “We do this.” She held the book as she showed them the spread.

“What’s that?” Scott questioned, taking the book from her.

Stiles leaned into Scott’s space. “It’s the Triwizard tournament.”

“Which is?”

Kira spoke enthusiastically, “It’s a famous contest between magical schools around the globe. It originated some 700 years ago as friendly competition. Each school took turns hosting the tournament. One student would be chosen to represent the school. The tournament consisted of tasks designed to test their magical prowess, their daring, their powers of deduction, and ability to cope with danger.”

Stiles grinned, liking where this idea was heading, he added “Also cheating was considered very normal and a definite tradition of the tournament.”

“So why doesn’t Hogwarts play it?” Scott asked.

Kira frowned, Stiles spoke for her, “Uh the tournament was discontinued some fifty years ago because the death toll started getting super high.”

“It what?!” Scott shrieked.

Their was a loud shush from the librarian who passed by.

The three shrinked in their seats. “Chill. We can work with this.”

“Uh Stiles I don’t think we should make a tournament that could possibly kill someone.”

“Are you crazy? Of course we won’t. We’ll make a kiddy trainer broom version. And we can involve the whole school, pitch the houses against each other.”

“I think it’s brilliant.” Kira smiled. “We can make a course.”

“Yes!” Stiles agreed. “We can make it Halloween themed and hold it outside by the Black Lake during dinner.”

“How are we going to get the whole school outside?” Scott questioned.

“Eh. I’ll figure that out later. Stiles grabbed the book and slammed it shut. Let’s go find Cora.”

“Stiles,” Scott said when the Slytherin stood and grabbed his things.

“Huh?”

“We aren’t allowed to check out books from the library anymore.”

“Damn. Kira?”

“Got it.” She agreed and headed to the front desk. Scott and Stiles grinned already thinking of numerous ways to plan the epic prank.

|~~***~~|

 

“Shit!” Cora whispered, kneeling close to the wall. Scott, Stiles, and Kira were right right behind her. The three of them had snuck out of their dorms in the middle of the night and were attempting to go out to the castle grounds with Cora leading them. Cora had prefect duties tonight and she had memorized everyone’s routes. She had been hoping to avoid any confrontations.

“What?” Stiles whispered.

Cora scrunched her face. “I smell my brother.”

Stiles grunted but then his eyes opened wide. “I have an idea. You guys go.”

“What?” Scott asked, trying to drag his friend who had begun walking away.

“No it’s fine. Just work on the bridge. We’ll think of a better escape route tomorrow.”

“Ok. Good luck.” Cora said, already leading the other two away.

Stiles went down another hallway in search of Derek. He followed the heat down corridors and narrow hallways. Within a minute, he found Derek turning the corner. The two nearly bumped into each other.

“Stiles,” Derek crossed his arms over his chest, “What are you doing?”

Stiles tried to act innocent. “Uh taking a stroll.”

“It’s eleven.”

“And?”

Derek’s eyes looked over Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles could feel Cora and Scott behind him. Stiles panicked and grabbed Derek by the back of the neck and pulled him into a searing kiss. Derek struggled for only a second before he was responding with the same enthusiasm. Stiles grinned into the kiss and was about to pull away. But Derek did first and grabbed hold of his wrist tightly. Before Stiles knew what was happening, Stiles was being pulled down the hallway.

Derek opened a broom closet and threw Stiles inside. Derek shut the door behind himself and went over to Stiles again.

_Oh._

Stiles wasted no time. His hands gripped Derek’s black and yellow tie, hauling him impossibly closer. Their mouths were messy against one another. Stiles could feel a bit of spit drooling at the corner of his mouth but he couldn’t be bothered to care. One of Derek’s hands clutched the back of Stiles’ head. His broad palm burrowed against his hair. Stiles made a mental note to thank Jackson as Derek lightly tugged. Derek’s other hand wandered without any hesitation to his ass.

Stiles jumped at the contact and inadvertently made his crotch brush against Derek’s. Both of them broke the kiss with a gasp. Stiles couldn’t help himself. He began shamelessly rutting against Derek and Derek helped with the motion by gripping hard onto his ass. A particularly hard squeeze made Stiles whine and his head to thunk against the stone wall.

“Fuck.” Stiles panted as Derek began to trail kisses down Stiles’ throat.

Stiles hands clutched at Derek’s waist and he tried to maneuver him to press against him harder. Derek got the message.

Stiles gasped again.

Merlin. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. Forget the fucking prank, this was loads better than silly mischief. Nothing could top making out with Derek Hale, The Head Boy. Pay attention to the capital _‘The’_.

Stiles moaned again as Derek nipped at his neck. Fuck. This was reckless and so fucking out of character for the Hufflepuff, but Stiles was so not going to question it. With Derek’s no fucking sex rule, Stiles was going to take what he could get. And the way Derek was moving, gave Stiles plenty information that Derek had been suffering from blue balls as well.

One of Stiles hands left Derek’s waist and slid slowly to Derek’s front. He clutched his erection between the fabric of his trousers.

Derek panted against Stiles’ neck to release a wrecked sob.

“Fuck.” Stiles panted through laughter. “That noise is amazing. Do it again.” Stiles squeezed and Derek Fucking Hale _whined_. He tried to stop the noise by mouthing at Stiles’ neck but it wasn’t working. Hell yeah, this was like on some other level of hot.

Stiles continued the motion. He could feel the air in the broom closet begin to grow sparse and very very warm. It felt very close to almost having sex. At least, Stiles thought it did. He concentrated on Derek’s dick through his pants. He could feel the length of it and the weight of it. He tried to picture what it would look like without any clothes. In his imagination, he couldn't help but quicken the pace of his hand.

Derek growled. He slapped Stiles’ hand away and then maneuvered both hands behind Stiles’ thighs. Stiles felt the ground disappear as Derek pinned him to the wall. Stiles automatically crossed his legs along Derek’s lower back.

Derek rutted up without any effort.

Stiles’ mouth parted open in a long moan. Thank you werewolf strength! He angled his head down in search of Derek’s mouth. Derek captured his lips and continued pressing forward with his hips. Stiles grunted and pushed down. Oh shit, this _was_ almost like sex. Stiles hands clutched tightly onto Derek’s shoulders.

“Derek, Derek,” Stiles whined when he caught a breath of air. The feel of his dick rubbing against his thick trousers and causing delicious friction with Derek’s dick was way too much. Shit, he was totally going to come in his pants.

“Stiles,” Derek groaned back. Oh crap, Derek was in the same predicament. And just already anticipating that, had Stiles limbs stiffening and then releasing a silent moan as he came.

Derek’s nostrils flared and then a few seconds later he grunted into Stiles’ still parted mouth and released as well.

Stiles leaned his forehead against Derek’s. Their breaths intermingled together.

Both of them couldn’t help but smirk. Stiles chest rose and fell beside Derek’s. He was too lost in the moment to wonder when Derek was going to put him down. Because holy dragon’s balls, that had been more than fucking fantastic. It was just- _ugh!_ Stiles couldn’t wait to get back to his dorm and check sex in a broom closet off his sex fantasy list.

But suddenly the door flew open.

“Why are you covering your nose— _Hale?_ ” Malia cried and then she smirked, “And Stiles.”

Derek set Stiles down with a thunk. Stiles couldn’t even begin to describe the mortification bubbling under his skin. Oh Merlin, he was covered in jizz in front of the two most blackmailing Slytherins. Salazar, please help him.

“Tate.” Derek said formally. He pulled down his untucked (oh when did that happen) shirt further down. “Jackson.”

Jackson glared at both of them as he squeezed his nostrils. “I can’t believe it. After all the shit you give Lydia and me about being in public.”

Malia crossed her arms over her chest, ignoring her fellow prefect. “So Jackson and I were walking along doing patrols when suddenly we hear this loud moaning sound. Jackson here thought it was one of the ghosts but because you keep briefing us at meetings to never ignore any noise. I came to investigate and look what I found.”

Derek glared and stepped out of the closet. Stiles stayed behind Derek, trying not to look any of his housemates in the eye.

“You know I have to take house points away for indecent behavior, Hale,” Malia grinned.

“Then that means Stiles loses them too.” Derek replied.

Malia pouted at Stiles. “I am willing to sacrifice house points—”

“Uh Malia,” Stiles interrupted. “Remember we lost 70 points just a few days ago. We can’t afford to lose any more points”

Malia glared. “Dammit Stiles. Why do you have to pranks?” She pointed a finger at Derek. “We are going to catch up to you guys.” She marched away.

Stiles was left standing there with Derek and Jackson.

“You guys stink.” Jackson said, which sounded nasally.

“I don’t complain when you and Lydia smell like this.”

“Wait you can smell what we just did?” Stiles asked, incredibly alarmed.

“Yeah. It’s disgusting. So I’m gonna go finish my patrols and then Obliviate myself. I’ll see you back the dorms, please take a shower before I get there.” He directed at Stiles. Jackson then walked in the same direction Malia had.

Derek waited for Jackson to leave before whispering in Stiles’ ear, “It doesn’t smell bad. Trust me.” He hugged Stiles close to him.

Stiles wormed out of his grasp. “Haha no. I’m not having the pack smell this. I’m gonna go shower.”

Derek grinned. “Suit yourself.”  

Stiles smirked and pressed one long lingering kiss on Derek’s lips before heading back to his dorm. He hoped the others made it out of the castle ok, and hey, if they needed Stiles to sacrifice himself again in the name of the prank, Stiles would gladly volunteer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! Sorry guys for such a late upload. I've been really busy. This semester is so time consuming. I've already five novels for my English classes and the month isn't even over yet. D: I also have been doing observation hours for my education classes. It's been really fun observing middle and high schoolers. I love them but they are taking up all my free time. I'm surprised I got to upload this. 
> 
> Anyway? Thoughts on this chapter? Pranks? Sterek? Hot make-out scenes? Scott and Allison getting along? Lydia and Jackson banter? Morrell and training? My random scholarly magic nonsense? (I've been reading too many academic textbooks...sorry)
> 
> Any reviews are appreciated and really they are necessary for my sanity. Not to be demanding, but I really need to hear them especially since these last few weeks have been so stressful. I just need to know I'm not writing for nothing. 
> 
> As always, I love all my readers and thanks so much for the comments so far!


	49. Stage 3: The Triwizard Tournament

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hogwart's pranksters finally strike the school...and so does something else.

Whatever happened to Derek after Stiles had taken one for the team, Stiles had no idea. But he was greatly enjoying it. One minute, they would be talking with the pack and then Derek’s hand would rest on his knee. And then Stiles would shift and then Derek’s hand would squeeze just a tad higher. And then, the two would leave the pack and find the closest abandoned vicinity.  

The two entered Merlin knows here but as soon as they had entered the room, Derek had slammed his lips with Stiles so harshly, Stiles stumbled stupidly into a table. Derek pushed him up on the table while Stiles gaped like a grindylow for ten seconds.

When he came to his senses, he wrapped his hand around Derek’s tie and yanked him closer.

Both their hands wandered lower to untuck shirts from trousers and Derek actually tore two of his buttons in his haste to get to Stiles’ neck. Stiles groaned. The lips pressed against his jawline and clamped onto his side. All Stiles could do was tilt his head back and push against Derek’s hips.

“Derek,” Stiles whispered.

Derek pulled back with a smirk. Stiles leaned forward and let their lips meet again, his hand sliding through the short hair at the nape of Derek’s neck. Stiles licked Derek’s bottom lip and Derek let his lips part. Whining a little in his throat, Stiles pressed closer, wanting more.

Their lips slid against each other roughly. Their fingers found places that made the other shudder or groan, and when they pulled back for air, they were both flushed and smiling like idiots at each other.

Stiles reached out a hand and cupped Derek’s angular jaw. His thumb caressed across the scruff of his cheek in one tender moment among the ferocity of their past kisses. Derek smiled softly and once more leaned down.

The tender moment was forgotten when Derek did an interesting thing with his hips. The two rutted against each other again. The harsh movements knocked the desk a few inches and made the old wood creak. After a full three minutes, both of them climaxed with a loud breathy moan.

Derek collapsed over Stiles. Stiles grunted under the weight, but he was way too tired to put in the effort in his arms.

“Dude,” Stiles settled with saying instead.

Derek took several long breaths before replying against Stiles’ neck. "What?"

"Is the Head Boy really supposed to be doing stuff like this? Not that I'm complaining. I would never complain about stuff like this, because this is totally awesome and you are awesome and Merlin, I wish I was a prefect or something because I swear I would award Hufflepuff with twenty points for having the hottest Head Boy in history.”

Derek placed his elbows on either side of Stiles’ head. “Only twenty?”

Stiles scrunched his face. “That’s five points away for egotistical assholeness.”

Derek only rolled his eyes.

Stiles laughed. "It's ok. Although I am wondering why the sudden change?” Stiles brought his hands up and buried them in Derek’s thick hair. He sighed in satisfaction at the unruly state it was in.

Derek flushed.

Stiles chuckled. “It’s ok. You can admit you are just as horny as the rest of us."

"Shut up."

"I for a fact am enjoying our little rendezvous around the castle, but…” He pushed Derek gently and stretched. He looked down at himself and made a face at the gross feeling in his trousers. He searched for his wand and muttered under his breath a cleaning spell. It would have to do. He repaired his buttons quickly and ran a hand through his messy hair.

“Fuck Jackson is going to kill me,” Stiles said. “Sorry but I did promise I would study with him and the others for Arithmancy.” He searched for his bag that had been thrown by the door. “So I gotta go.” He walked over to Derek who was leaning a hip against the desk. “See you.” He pecked his lips. Derek’s hand quickly came up to his cheek and pulled him into a kiss that was less than chaste.

They parted with Stiles’ bottom lip poking out. He blinked a few times while Derek grinned.

“Right,” Stiles licked his lips and took a step back, tripping on his feet. “I uh…” Derek continued to smirk. “Ah screw you.”

Derek chuckled and Stiles finally left.

 

|~~***~~|

 

It was sometime around the second to last week of October when Isaac saw Scott walk into the Room of Requirement. Isaac acknowledged him briefly and continued writing his essay for Care of Magical Creatures. They had to write about kelpie’s and their diets. Professor Fenris insisted that kelpie’s lured humans into the water to kill and eat them, thus making humans kelpie’s source of food.

Isaac wasn’t so sure that was true, it did not take into account the most famous kelpie, the Loch Ness Monster. There had not been a single human death in the Loch Ness Lake in years. So what did the largest kelpie feed off of? Kelpie’s lived in different water environments so there was not one aquatic animal that they could have all eaten. Isaac was working on a theory that kelpie’s were like sirens. They loved to lure humans because they enjoyed the attention, and sirens source of magical energy came from attention, killing sailors was just a sport. He was beginning to think kelpie’s were the same way, after all the Loch Ness Monster was just one giant show-off, and considering its age most likely learned to coincide with humans, thus destroying its need to kill them.

Isaac’s topic ventured off from the professor’s intention, but Fenris loved him so Isaac doubted it would be a problem.

Isaac felt Scott lean his head on his shoulder and read over his outline.

"So glad I dropped Care of Magical Creatures. How has the class been?"

"Ok.” Isaac crossed off his thesis and began rewording it.  “We're moving to more dangerous creatures. Said we are going to be studying kappa’s next week.”

Kira, who had been sitting on the floor with Boyd perked up. “Those are lovely creatures.”

Boyd stared at her strangely. “Don’t they love to strangle people?”

Kira smiled awkwardly. “Yes but...well that’s...yeah, that’s bad. But they like other dark creatures, they act like giant puppies a bit like grindylows, so you should have no problem with them. If you bow to them, they spill water from the bowls on the top of their heads. It’s kind of funny.”

Isaac watched Erica, who was sitting on the loveseat couch. Isaac knew of Erica’s crush on Boyd and her current jealousy at Kira butting into her friendship with Boyd. It was downright hilarious. It was Isaac’s high value of his life that he didn’t laugh in the blonde’s face. However, Erica was giving Kira a strange look that Isaac could not decipher.

“You like ugly creatures?”

“Um...I wouldn’t call them ugly, I think that depends on the person and the connotation, but I’ve always liked the misunderstood creatures. Dragons are my favorite. Japanese ones tend to be very tame compared to those in Europe. I would love to see if Asian techniques to subdue dragons would work on dragons like the Hungarian Horntail. I doubt people have tried.”

Erica grinned. “Interesting.”

“What?”

“I’ve always liked the ‘misunderstood’ plants. Devil’s Snare are my favorite. Did you know they relax their holds on people because they actually consider humans friends? It’s only when you fight back that they consider you a threat. It’s amazing thinking that such a plant can be sentient. You wouldn’t expect that from a being that doesn’t even have a brain...well as far as people know. There could be a way in which they do have a brain but we are too simple creatures to understand the complexity of plants.”

The boys in the room watched the interaction play out, “I didn’t know that,” Kira smiled. “I don’t know much about Herbology, but I would love to hear more about it.”

Erica seemed startled by the girl’s kindness. It was a little refreshing in Isaac’s opinion that the girl was so nice. The girl’s in their pack tended to be a little feisty, even Allison, who could be the nicest of the bunch, tended to be just as snarky as Cora when rattled. He didn’t see a bad bone in Kira, but yet again they hadn’t known the girl very long. He sure hadn’t missed Stiles’ excited babbling of how Kira had a giant sword strapped to her back during training.

“Great.” Erica climbed off the loveseat and then began animatedly talking to the mixed-race girl.

All the guys shared a look of surprise.

“Soooo…” Isaac said. He looked at Scott. “Where’s Stiles?”

Scott made a face.

“Oh.” Isaac stuck out his tongue. “Ew.”

“Yeah.”

“I think I preferred it when they thought we didn’t know about their relationship,” Boyd said, scribbling something in his notebook with a pen instead of quill. The muggleborn refused to use quills, said something about them being utterly useless. Isaac disagreed, pens tended to explode in his bag when it was too hot. Pen ink was harder to remove than regular ink.

“They’re in a honeymoon phase let them be,” Erica interrupted.

Boyd side-eyed her. “You just enjoy spreading rumors about them to the castle.”

Erica smirked. “Very true. One of these days I’m going to take a picture of them making out and sell copies around the school.”

“Erica.” Boyd reprimanded.

“I’ll give you part of the share. Sheesh. But I still think we should leave them alone. They’ll learn to be discreet like Lydia and Jackson.

“Hopefully,” Isaac muttered distastefully. “Do you know how awkward it is to look your Alpha in the eye when can you smell Stiles all over him?”

“It’s just as awkward when it’s your best friend. The humans in our group are so lucky. I’ve been trying to get Allison to dump a scent masking potion on them both.”

“What did she say?” Erica question.

“Said she would, if I gave her candy but Lydia said and I quote ‘Why are you accepting a potion for candy. I say you milk him for all he’s worth’ end quote. Allison complained and said she likes Bertie Botts’ and the two reached a compromise.”

“On what?” Isaac asked hesitantly.

“Three boxes full of Bertie Botts’ pear flavor bean. I’ve been separating beans for the past week.”

Isaac snorted. “Scott, you’re a wizard, just summon the beans.”

Scott groaned from his stupidity. “Damn, I can’t believe I didn’t think of that.”

Isaac glanced at the muggle borns and half-blood, “You guys forget you’re wizards sometimes huh?”

Scott pouted. “We didn’t grow up with magic. My mom didn’t tell me I was a wizard until I was ten cause she was running out of excuses for my random outburst of magic to tell me and my dad.”

Isaac only rolled his eyes. “Well you should get to that spell soon because I swear if I smell a horny Derek one more time, I’m gonna barf.”

The others agreed with much conviction.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Stiles couldn’t be happier.  As he munched on his mashed sweet potatoes, he hummed a childhood wizard Halloween song. He bobbed his head back and forth and then shared a grin with his fellow pranksters. Derek shot him a disapproving look. _Sheesh._ Derek didn’t even have the decency to shoot him a suspicious glare—it was downright accusing.

He avoided his stare and glanced at the staff table.

He caught eyes with Yukimura. The woman smiled at him and her own eyes went over to the empty chair in the middle of the table. Deaton was absent.  According to Morrell, he had gone on some trip so this prank would go splendidly. He checked his Batman watch and mouthed, “3, 2, 1…”

A loud caw echoed in the Great Hall. The student body glanced up at the sky and watched the paper mache owl float above them. Stiles was happy they had saved it from the first prank.

The owl screeched again and then opened its beak. “Hello students. This is your Headmaster speaking,” The owl spoke in a poor imitation of Deaton’s voice. The pranksters hadn’t had time to record their Headmaster’s voice so they had improvised, using Scott’s voice instead.

“This is an emergency. Every student must evacuate to the Black Lake.”

Derek sent Stiles a sharp look. “What are you doing?”

Stiles snorted. “Evacuating just like the Headmaster said.”

Derek sighed, but stood with the others. He went ahead and searched for the Head Girl to help her evacuate the students efficiently.  

All the students chatted among themselves wondering what was the emergency. Meanwhile, the four were trying to keep to themselves and blend in. When they arrived at the lake, the owl instructed them to walk to the pier.

Everyone noticed the pier was a lot larger than it had been the day before. It stretched several feet to make room for every student to stand on. The students waited for further instruction as the owl continued to fly around their heads.

“Students, as you may have realized. This is not a message from your Headmaster.” The owl spun high into the air, shedding its feathers. It exploded and the feathers fell on all the students. Suddenly, a six foot tall scarecrow floated above their heads. The scarecrow had a pumpkin head with a giant axe in the middle of it. Its beady yellow eyes stared at the students. “This is the Pumpkin King!” He laughed menacingly.

Cora and Scott snickered at Stiles’ poor voice over.

“And I have risen from the dead to introduce a very important game that has been forgotten for years. The Triwizard Tournament!”

The scarecrow reached within his pocket. He pulled out a giant clear goblet. He hovered oddly under the weight of the goblet. His legs dangled above his head while his arms dangled below.

Stiles shrinked. Oh, Derek was sure glaring at him now.

“What the hell is that?!” A Gryffindor yelled.

“The Triwizard Tournament is a friendly competition between other wizarding schools. A champion is usually selected to represent the school, but for this case, some people have volunteered individuals.” He pulled a hand into the goblet and read off four papers. “Look at that. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, and Hufflepuff all participating!”

“Hell no!” A Slytherin shouted. “I didn’t sign up for this. How did Slytherin’s name get in there.”

The scarecrow vanished the pieces, “Oh, details! They’re in the goblet aren’t they? That means all of you have agree, haven’t you? I bet you anything no one will regret participating in this wonderful adventure.”

“Wonderful?” Lydia spoke, crossing her arms. “Haven’t students died participating in this stupid thing?” The crowd grew boisterous in indignation.

The scarecrow laughed. “Silly girl, again those are just minor details no one should concern themselves with. Anyway, the death toll wasn’t even that high.”

“Death toll?” Derek snarled at Stiles.

Stiles smiled innocently.

“There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament,” The scarecrow continued, “None of which has been very successful...until now. I’ve worked hard to ensure that this time no student will find himself or herself or whatever, in mortal danger.”

“And who says we even want to do this stupid tournament?” A slimy Slytherin shouted.

“Oh!” The pumpkin cheered. “I ensure everyone will want to compete. The winner will receive 150 points awarded to their house.” The pumpkin scarecrow reached inside an open stitch and pulled out a paper. “See, signed by Professor Yukimura, Head of Slytherin and signed by Professor Morrell, Head of Hufflepuff.” That had taking a bit of convincing but Stiles was glad they got their approval. It was a shame the Headmaster though couldn’t be here to see their work.

Several of the students cheered at the concept of reward.

“I take that as acceptance. Shall we begin?”

“No,” Derek said. “I’m putting a stop to this.” He pulled out his wand but it was too late.

The Pumpkin King rose his hands and nearly all the student body screeched as the pier broke off from the land and they were pushed 200 yards further into the lake.

“The first house to get past all my obstacles of terror,” The Pumpkin King sing-songed, “Will be rewarded greatly for their bravery, wit, resourcefulness, and their hard-working nature. The first obstacle is to get back to shore. Your trip to your doom begins now.”

The houses did not have time to think of how to get across because as The Pumpkin King rose his hands, several grindylows broke from the water and began to close in on them. They grabbed ankles and dragged people down into the Black Lake. Derek cursed Stiles for his stupidity, as he went to help the students.

But the pranksters assured nothing bad would happen. From the Black Lake large pumpkins captured the fallen students and floated them to bleachers on the side of the shore.

“Screw this!” Lydia shot a spell at a grindylow, and then _“Glacio!”_ She froze a clean pathway on the lake. “Everyone go!” The Ravenclaws followed after her.

Cora saw Lydia’s spell and replicated it helping her fellow Gryffindors across. The Hufflepuffs had figured out a way to make stones appear on the water and worked together to keep the floating stones stable.

The seventh years cast a freezing spell too and ran back to shore. Stiles was about to run behind them but then he noticed a first year Slytherin beside him crying as he struggled with a grindylow. Stiles heart panged. He ran to him and kneeled beside him. “Hey, hey.” Stiles reached out and tickled the bottom of the grindylows neck. It was a gesture Kira had shown the pranksters, when she discovered they liked dark creatures. Stiles hoped the creature wouldn’t bite his head off, but it seemed complacent and left. “C’mon. We can let the other houses win.” The first year nodded and then took off running on his own.

Soon everyone made it back to shore.

“You know,” Erica spat when she saw Stiles. She was drenched as many other students were. “This isn’t really fair if someone knows how to go through the obstacles.” Erica crossed her arms over her chest.

“Oh leave it to a Hufflepuff to speak of fair play.” Stiles grinned. He threw his arms over Cora and Scott. “But if someone decided to make such obstacles, that someone wouldn’t involve themselves with the entire prank. That’s no fun if you know what’s coming, the someone would say. That someone would have multiple someones help them create a different obstacle course and possibly set random generator spells so even that someone wouldn’t know how that course would play out.”

Kira smiled to the pack. “All theory of course if we were to place ourselves in that someone's shoes.”

Stiles nodded furiously agreeing with her. “Yeah, all theory.”

Derek groaned. “You brought Kira into this?”

“What? No!” Stiles laughed.

“We did,” Scott and Cora said in tandem, grinning from ear to ear.

“I only knighted the new member for our little squad. No coercing on my part whatsoever.”

Derek rolled his eyes right at the moment the poorly dressed Pumpkin King appeared again.

“The first course was easy, let’s see you tread the rest.”

From the ground, hedges rose all around them. Each one had a separate opening for every house. Stiles went over to the one with a large snake engraving on top.

Upon entering, Stiles immediately heard Jackson repeat in a mantra, “ScrewStiles, ScrewStiles, ScrewStiles.”

Stiles liked the alliteration of it.

But the cause of Jackson’s horror presented itself in tiny little spiders crawling all over the hedges. The spiders were obviously fake. Stiles had bought a nice collection of them at Zonko’s. But Jackson wasn’t a bumbling first year so he wasn’t going to tell him otherwise.

Stiles grinned as the last Slytherin entered. The hedge closed.

_Let the fun begin._

Giant spiders popped out of the middle of the hedges, scaring everyone. All the Slytherins began running. The giant fake spiders latched their multiple arms on students and dragged them into the hedge. The students screamed in terror, but sighed in relief when the spiders safely carried them to the bleachers where they could cheer on their houses.

Students who had not been captured, reacted wisely. They pulled out their wands and fired the correct counter spell for spiders.

Stiles led the Slytherins. He had created the maze, but he had let the maze spark a layout on its own. He hoped he was going in the right direction. Unluckily, they ran into several dead ends, which caused them to lose several students in their haste to turn back.

“Fuck you, Stiles!” Jackson screeched, resorting to kicking the spiders.

“Ugh, all of you move!” Malia shouted. _“Bombarda!”_

“Malia, no!” The hedges shot at the girl and took her away from the course.

Damn. He should have mentioned he charmed the hedges.

“I got this!” One of the foreign-exchange students yelled. He muttered a spell Stiles was unfamiliar with. A small compass appeared on the Slytherin’s palm and the arrow pointed the way out. The remaining Slytherins followed him out of the maze.

When they finally got out, each one tried to catch their breath. There was only about twenty-five students with them. Stiles turned to the right and saw the other houses come out shortly from their own exits. Their numbers resembled their own.

Stiles took a breath and took in the next obstacle course. It was a tunnel that reached up to his waist. Stiles didn’t know what to expect. He hadn’t designed this one, Kira had. He looked to his right and saw the other houses emerge in several states of distress. He saw Kira duck down and begin to crawl in the tunnel.

Alright, here we go.

Stiles crawled as well. He didn’t see what was so bad about it until he saw very tiny little pumpkins about the size of his thumb float over their heads.

“What the hell?” He poked it with his finger. The pumpkin giggled—not laughed— _giggled_ and then released a smoke.

Stiles inhaled the smoke and then began to uncontrollably laugh. He fell on his side clutching his stomach. “Oh for fuck sakes, man down!” He cried to Danny and Jackson.

But both of them were on their sides laughing too.   

Stiles looked at the trail of Slytherins behind him and several of them were laughing on the ground. His eyes widened when he saw part of the tunnel breaking from the end, slowly carrying one student at a time to the bleachers. Stiles could hear the students chanting to get a move on.

“Don’t stop, Stiles,” Brett came up laughing uncontrollably. “I got this.” He cast a bubblehead charm. He laughed a few more times releasing the last of the toxin and then cast it in Stiles’ direction.

“I’ve always wanted my _wand_ by your face,” Brett winked. Stiles shoved him with a groan.

Together the two cast the spell on Jackson and Danny and that’s how it went. Once the older students were able to breathe they cast it on the younger kids. They crawled out of the tunnel. Stiles made a headcount. Crap, they had lost seven others.

Stiles could see the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs already making their way to the next mission, none of them laughing. The Gryffindors on the other hand, tripped over each other laughing up a storm, apparently they had just barrelled right through it. Once they got a whiff of fresh air, the toxin wore off.

The next course was a log that floated six feet in the air. They climbed the ladder and jumped onto the log. Stiles knew Scott had designed this one and he was about to yell across the obstacle course at Scott’s lame prank. But from the ground, plastic skeletons erupted and began to dance around them. They snatched at their ankles trying to drag them down. Several students fell and the skeletons danced away with them to the bleachers.

“Go!” Stiles shouted to Brett in front of him.

The second to last obstacle course belonged to Cora’s, which was just cruel. It was a narrow passageway they had to run through. Overhead giant fake crows flew over them and dropped slimy green spiderwebs. Students were captured in the webs like a net. The crows would swoop down and grab the students.

The remaining students ran. When they reached the end of the obstacle, Stiles did another head count as he searched for his breath. Among the Slytherins, were himself, Jackson, Danny, Brett, Liam, Unger, and a random seventh year. The Ravenclaws had Lydia and Kira of course, Greenberg, Harley, Kara, and two foreign exchange students. The Gryffindors had the pack, Heather, Danielle, Bennett, and a seventh year. And lastly the Hufflepuffs consisted of the pack, Theo, and two other seventh years.

“Congratulations, you have reached the last challenge,” The Pumpkin King shouted appearing in front of them. He pointed behind him. The clearing was large, and about 100 yards away were four pumpkins each one carved with their animal insignia. “Crack open the pumpkin and face your last task.” The Pumpkin King disappeared again.

Stiles stepped forward. He saw Scott, Kira, and Isaac take for the other houses. The four of them picked up the axe. They lifted them into the air and cracked the pumpkins in half. The three pranksters were wise to begin running back to the group. Isaac stared at the light emitting way too brightly out of the pumpkin for a few seconds before Boyd shouted at him to come back.

The light got brighter and brighter and then a large boom echoed in the grounds. The pranksters eyes opened wide. _Oh._

“Uh...oops.” Stiles muttered. “Guess we got too carried away with that _engorgio_ spell.”

There standing in the middle of the clearing were four animals made of actual pumpkin, the size of houses: a giant snake, an eagle, a lion, and a badger.

Everyone took a step back as the animals roared, screeched, or hissed.

“What the fuck did you do?” Derek shouted loudly to Stiles.

“Uh...well they weren’t supposed to be this big!”

The Pumpkin King appeared again. “First one to defeat their House’s animal, wins the prize. Good luck.” The Pumpkin King disappeared and the animals came charging.

“Oh shit!” Stiles yelled and ran in the opposite direction. The Slytherins went after him. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs did the same.

The Gryffindors were about to run as well, but Allison yelled. “No, we stand our ground. It’s made out of pumpkins and vines, how bad can it be?”

“Are you out of your mind?” Heather told her.

“Yes. Spread out and watch for the teeth.”

She rolled out of the way as a giant paw came at her.

“Great,” Bennett jumped out of the way too. “While we get to fight a lion. They get a fucking harmless badger.” The Gryffindors turned to the Hufflepuffs who had been cornered by the lake. They all jumped when they heard the badger roar and spit pumpkin innards across the Hufflepuffs. “Oh fuck. Nope. I’ll stick to our lion.”

It was interesting watching the different Houses duel. With the reminding promise of leading ahead in the House Cup, the students rallied and fought back.

The Gryffindors as usual went charging to fight the lion without a single plan. They rose their wands in the air and shot curses and hexes, most were ineffective. The spells bounced off the pumpkin lion’s thick shell. Allison’s constant stream of attacks soon had the pumpkin lion focusing on her, putting her on the defense. She tumbled and rolled trying to avoid it’s paws as the other students attacked from the side. Their bombardment of hexes combined together had a strange effect on the pumpkin. One strange pair resulted in pink roses sprouting from the lion’s vine mane.

The Hufflepuffs, who had been cornered by the lake chose to battle their pumpkin badger by separating their teams. One team dedicated themselves to offensive spells while another group did defensive spells. It worked in theory, because the badger couldn’t attack the best duelist such as Erica, Derek, and Theo but those who were on the defensive were too preoccupied to protect themselves. The best defense casters such as Boyd and Isaac were taken out in a few minutes. They flew and splashed into the Black Lake where pumpkins carried them to the bleachers.

The Ravenclaws were lined up on neat ranks on Lydia’s orders. They had run up the steps to get higher ground to have an upper edge on the eagle. Thankfully, the pranksters hadn’t charmed the eagle to fly otherwise this would have been impossible. The Ravenclaws had already set one wing on fire. It sizzled and the smell of pumpkin spice permeated in the air as the wing dropped on the ground with a wet crunchy crash. They aimed for its legs trying to knock it off balance.

To everyone’s amazement, the Slytherins squashed their high self-preservation and met face to face with the pumpkin snake. It became quite clear why there were so many successful Slytherins in the wizarding world. Jackson took control of the group easily.

He glanced at the pumpkin lion and then to Stiles, who seemed to have the same idea. The Slytherins began running again but this time toward the Gryffindors. The Gryffindors panicked as the snake slithered quickly to them. The Slytherins saw the lion coming their way and suddenly they made an explosion below the lion’s feet. The Slytherins fell in the hole and watched above as the snake crashed into the lion.

Their was a roar of triumph from the Slytherins at the bleachers. The Slytherins climbed out of the hole and surrounded their target. The lion had been toppled to the ground, but it was their snake that had a giant crack in the middle of its face.

Danny and Liam worked together to create shields around everyone, while the others attacked. It was a spell from the seventh year who pointed his wand again and again until the snake’s head was sheared off. Stiles and Jackson sent one last powerful spell and in the next second the snake exploded into a thousand pieces, raining it's pumpkin shards and innards on the students at the bleachers.

The Slytherins panted and there was a moment of silence before all the Slytherins roared in triumph.

The Pumpkin King appeared again and vanished the remaining pumpkin animals. He did a small dance above the Slytherins and deposited the goblet into Jackson’s hand.  A large part of Slytherin’s honor was restored that day.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Stiles came out of detention with Cora and Scott, muttering about unusual punishments. His fingers ached as all three had been subjected to cleaning the mess they had made outside the school grounds because of the epic prank. Unfortunately, they had to restore everything without magic. The only good thing to come out of the prank was that Finstock, and Yukimura both pleaded with Deaton to postpone their punishments till after the Quidditch match. It hadn’t been difficult when both professors defended their case that all of them had performed spellwork they had learned in class.

Morrell, who had been the one to award the 100 points to the winning house for the prank, delivered the blow to Deaton by saying it wouldn’t be fair to the other students, who wanted to see a spectacular game of Quidditch. So the punishment was dealt two weeks later.

Stiles had been surprised that Yukimura was such a supporter of Quidditch. She had been shouting in the stands for the chasers to pick up the pace as the Slytherin chasers struggled immensely through the match.

Jackson and Stiles both felt the blow in their perfect trio without Aiden there to help them. Liam was a phenomenal chaser but he wasn’t a very good team player and attempted to score on his own. He didn’t do very well against Gryffindor’s new chasers, Mason Hewitt and Hayden Romero, who were fourth years just like Liam. Jackson noticed midway through the game there appeared to be some history between Hayden and Liam, which kept making Liam screw up. Mason, Liam’s best friend, didn’t help matters as he kept taunting him. Jackson was forced to pull Liam from the game and put in a substitute, but by then, Gryffindor was far ahead in the match.

Luckily, Malia found the snitch before Cora. In a rare moment of Quidditch history, the game ended in a tie.

Which was a good thing, Yukimura had been upset at the tie. Stiles couldn’t fathom the glare if they had lost the match.

Liam had gotten a strict talking (shouting) by Jackson. Liam only rolled his eyes but listened when Danny stepped in. After practice, Stiles and Jackson both saw the difference in Liam’s attitude. When the team would take breaks during practice, Stiles and the rest of the team cringed (minus Danny) when they discovered that Liam was a rare breed of Slytherin. An excitable, way too dorky, and happy Slytherin. Liam ended up being the butt of jokes because of it. He had been upset but Stiles ‘rectified’ it by saying he was the baby of the group and thus deserved to endure the torture.

Speaking of torture...

Stiles left Cora and Scott at the stairs and headed to the Slytherin common room when he saw Brett Talbot. Stiles didn’t have the reflexes to turn the corner and pretend he hadn’t been spotted. Stiles sighed, “Hi Brett.”

“Hey Stilinski. What are you doing out here super late?”

“I had detention.”

“Ouch. For the prank?”

“Yup. It was worth it. Got us a fighting chance with the other Houses for the Cup.”

“Very true. Did you know your Slytherin’s little hero because of it.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, “Please. We don’t have heroes.”

“Well not heroes per say maybe idols. You have to admit we love to admire the great...and the attractive.”

Stiles snorted. “Smooth Brett.”

He shrugged. “Can’t help it. I’ve always found you somewhat cute but now with that hair and this persona...”

“What do you mean?”

“C’mon Stiles, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed? While you are still seen as Hogwart’s spaz mascot, you are also one of the brightest, and not to mention loads popular with that crowd you hang out with.”

“Ah, there it is. I’ve been wondering why you’ve been paying attention to me. This is all about reputation for you, isn’t?”

“Can’t blame a guy.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “You’re ridiculous and I’m tired. So I’m gonna head inside.”

“Oh c’mon now Stilinski, you have to admit you love all the attention I’m giving you. And don’t think I didn’t notice you subtly checking me out last year.”

“Brett, you’re pushing your luck,” Stiles sighed.

Brett’s eyes lit up. “Sorry, but hey if you and Derek don’t work out I’ll buy you lunch at Hogsmeade.”

“Like a date?”

Brett snorted. “No just a couple of guys being dudes enjoying a nice evening together.”

“If I say yes, will you leave me alone.”

Brett smirked, “Yes. It’s a date then.” Brett turned on his heel and lazily sauntered to the portrait entering the Slytherin common room first. Stiles waited it out a bit, making sure that when he entered Brett would not be there.

“So you’re going on a date?”

Stiles screamed at Derek’s sudden appearance. He could usually sense the werewolves at all times, except when he was dead tired like he was now.

“Hey Derek, glad to see you are still lurking in shadows like a creeper.”

“You’re going on a date?”

“Huh?”

“You’re going on a date with Talbott.”

Stiles perked up. “No. It was just something to get him to leave me alone, he said if me and you don’t work out, if I would go on a date with him. I agreed to it.” Derek growled. “Not that I think we aren’t going to work. I totally think we are, it’s just he’s so annoying. But yeah, no date.”

“Whatever.”

Stiles leaned into Derek’s space and then, “You’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Sure acting like it.”

“Oh how do you figure? Was it the annoyance across my face knowing you agreed to go on a date with Talbott?”

Stiles flinched at Derek’s snarkiness. He leaned closer and threw each of his arms around Derek’s shoulder. “I’m not going on a date with him.” Stiles pecked Derek on the lips. “Promise.”

Derek’s face caved.

Stiles smiled and knocked their foreheads together. “What were you doing down in the dungeons anyway?”

Derek shrugged awkwardly, “I wanted to see you.”

Stiles noticed the way Derek’s eyes lingered at his lips then back up. Stiles groaned in frustration. “Ugh, fuck Jackson.”

“Huh?”

“We made a rule this year that significant others aren’t allowed in the room.”

Derek shrugged, “So you’ll come to mine, c’mon.” Derek grabbed his hand and laced their fingers together.

“Wait? You mean I’m going into the Hufflepuff dorm. No other house has ever been in the Hufflepuff dorms.”

“Who told you that?”

“Isaac.”

“He’s an idiot and lied to you.”

“Well I got doused with vinegar when I tried to get inside.”

“There’s actually a trick.”

Derek hauled him down to the basement area and he led him to the familiar barrels. He pulled Stiles in front of him and laced Stiles right hand under his own. He reached for the right barrell on the bottom second row and tapped out the rhythm. The lid swung open.

Stiles cracked a wide grin as they stepped inside. If he thought the Gryffindor common room contrasted with the Slytherin one, this couldn’t even compare. The entire common room was decked out in blacks, yellows, and browns. It was warm and perfect and all the cushions looked well lived in. Despite being in the basement it was a lot better lit than the Slytherin one and more airy considering the array of plants all around the room, courtesy of Morrell, Stiles figured. He wanted to explore more and talk to countless Hufflepuffs who were chatting away without even noticing him. But Derek grabbed his hand and led him through another circular doorway that led down a long hallway with circular doors.

No one even noticed them when Derek pulled open one of the doors and they went inside Derek’s room. Stiles noticed there were only three wooden beds, meaning the boys were more split since Stiles knew there were more Hufflepuff boys in Derek’s year. Their dormitory resembled the Gryffindor one so Stiles felt relatively calm with it.

“Where are your roommates?” Stiles asked as Derek tugged him toward the farthest bed.

Derek sat on the edge and looked up at Stiles as his hands skimmed the Slytherin’s waist. “Rhys and Theo have late night Quidditch practice so they won’t be back for a while.”

Stiles grinned as Derek pulled him into his lap.

“Yay for us.”

 

Derek looked up at Stiles and ran his hands along Stiles’ thighs, kissing his neck. Stiles sighed happily. Derek pressed his lips to juncture of his neck and shoulder, closing his eyes.

He pulled back and watched as Stiles’ gave him a questioning look as Derek just examined him in the dim lighting. It created shadows along Stiles’ face but the lack of light did not diminish the intelligence of Stiles’ eyes. His eyes were so extraordinary and special, no amount of lighting could outshine the attractive quality of that. Forget the girls with the straight, glossy hair. Forget the boys with rippling muscles. Stiles in front of him was so much more to him than all of them; he had his wild hair, mole covered skin, and radiant, magical smile.

And so what if Stiles tended to get a bit annoying and rude? Stiles was always there for his friends cheering them on in their studies or in a Quidditch match; watching over his friends in the infirmary and helping them get better, risking his life every moment.

“What?” Stiles asked.

“Nothing,” Derek replied. “Nothing at all.” He pulled him closer into a kiss, and it was every bit as perfect as the other kisses.

Their arms tightened around each other desperately, a reminder of what they had been doing since mid October. Derek was not even positive of what had come over him, most likely hormones and sexual frustration, if Derek was being honest with himself.  

Stiles climbed off of Derek’s lap so Derek could crawl back to his pillows. Stiles laid beside him. They both smiled like idiots.

Derek reached around blindly for his wand and shut the drapes with a flick. They were immersed practically in darkness. Neither seemed to mind, as Derek lowered himself on Stiles.

Derek’s heartbeat triple-timed as he took in Stiles’ scent, that was growing to be so intoxicating. The tightness in his trousers was instantaneous.

He kissed Stiles slowly, relishing the feel of his lips and tongue against his. Lowering his hand, he ran his palm along Stiles’ thigh. He squeezed the back of his thighs and pulled the rest of his leg around his waist. Gently, he pressed himself between Stiles’ legs. Stiles gave a soft moan, pushing his hips to meet him.

Thoughts and emotions swirled chaotic inside him as he grinded down. He was perfectly content with this activity to satisfy his physical need, but it became clear that Stiles was ready to breach certain other lines. Stiles’ finger caught on the button of his trousers.

Derek hissed and pulled back with a wet smack.

Stiles looked up at the ceiling dazed as Derek fell beside him and buttoned his trousers.

“No.” Derek replied.

It took Stiles a while to reply. “But all we’ve been doing is the same thing for the past few weeks.”

“I said no.”

Stiles sighed but nodded anyway. Derek figured the mood had been ruined so he searched for his wand. He muttered a quick spell and the small lantern hanging over his bed was lit.

They stayed like that for a while, until Stiles grunted and asked, “What is sex?”

“What?”

“What is sex?” Stiles asked as he looked at the ceiling.

Derek listened to Stiles’ heartbeat, unsure whether Stiles was joking. “I’m not giving you the sex talk and if you don't know, that's more of a reason not to have to do it."

“No.” Stiles ruffled his hair and brought his hands to his stomach. “I know what sex is but I’m asking what is sex?”

Derek flipped on his side to look at Stiles’ face more closely. “I don’t follow.”

“Like I mean, I understand that you said we can’t have sex. I get that. I respect it. But you said we can do other stuff. But what is other stuff? Isn’t other stuff count as sex too? Does ejaculating count as sex because when I masturbate and I ejaculate that’s not sex. It’s just me. So that means you need at least one other person for sex where they both ejaculate. But then not everyone has an orgasm from the stories I hear in the Slytherin Common Room. So is that still sex?”

“Penetration is sex.” Derek answered simply.

“See that’s what I thought too. But then let’s take into account same sex couples, girls in particular. Girls don’t have a penis and I’m not so sexist to say that they need to have objects to insert in each other to have sex. To them it’s sex. And then from the stuff Brett told me about him, something I didn’t want to know but he told me anyway, is that he doesn’t like penetrating people and doesn’t like being penetrated, but what he described in graphic detail, he still called it sex. He said they just kind of grinded on each other. Which means what we’ve been doing for the past few weeks has been sex according to Brett.”

Derek’s eye twitched. “You’ve been thinking about this a lot, haven’t you?”

Stiles glanced at him for a second and nodded. He then looked back to the ceiling and continued his rant. “And then let’s take into account blow jobs and hand jobs. Adults consider that a sexual activity but a lot of students don’t. That’s why you hear the gossip that so and so gave so and so a blow job. They use the word blow job instead of sex, because some of us don’t consider that sex. And that’s just another complicated realm. And then you can say touching someone’s genitalia is sex, but then sometimes you have those kinky couples who are like I want to watch you touch yourself. The other party doesn’t touch them. Is that sex?”

Derek sighed as Stiles continued to ramble and ramble for what felt like minutes. Stiles, as always, put way too much thought into things that people thought as trivial. And here was Stiles bright as ever questioning the concept of sex, something Derek had thought was always so clearly defined.

Stiles had the habit of doing that. Stiles always made people think differently of things. His beautiful brain worked in such a manner that no one could replicate.

Derek smiled and without thinking at all he interrupted Stiles to whisper, “I love you.”

“Hmm?” Stiles became distracted and without thinking as well, quickly said, “Yeah I know, I love you too,” before going back to his rambling of the mechanics of sex without a second thought.

Derek felt his eyes grow wide and his breath hitch. Had he really just said that? Had Stiles just said that without even realizing?  

Luckily, Derek wasn’t there to panic on his own because a few heartbeats later Stiles had realized what just emerged out his mouth. He stopped mid sentence and slowly turned to Derek. “Umm…” Stiles stuttered.

“Yeah.” Derek dumbly replied.

“Did?”

“Yeah.”

“And did I?”

Derek nodded slowly.

It was silent for a long time. Derek fretted Stiles hadn’t really meant to say it because as the silence dragged on, Derek knew without a doubt he was in love with Stiles. He wasn’t quite sure when that had happened. Derek felt his breath hitch when Stiles flipped to his side and leaned closer. He reached out to Derek’s jaw and let his hand catch on Derek’s scruff.

“I don’t know if you meant it...but I did.” Stiles whispered, despite they were the only one’s in the room.

Derek leaned into Stiles’ palm. “I did.”

And without any preamble both began to laugh. Both leaned in to press their lips together in a clumsy fumble contrasting against the smooth movements from before.

Derek broke the kiss first. “I think I get what you’re saying.”

“Huh?”

“Of what is sex.” Derek muttered awkwardly.

“Oh!”

“We have to set what we consider sex and not push the boundaries of that.”

“Perfect,” Stiles smiled. “Except I think you have to set them.”

“Why?”

“Well you’re the one who says I can’t have sex with you and I think I’m ready to go all the way whatever that’s going to mean to us. I get you are doing this because I’m a minor, but I’m sixteen which I don’t think is that far off from seventeen. So whatever you decide, I’ll be happy.”

Derek thought it over. They needed to set strict guidelines so nothing would go too far. “No penetrative anal sex, finger or penis…”

Stiles beamed. “Is that it?”

Derek thought it over. He nodded. “Unless one of us feels uncomfortable with something we have to say so and stop.”

Stiles gave him a wet kiss and pulled back, radiating contentment. “That’s way more than I thought you would give me.” Stiles sat up and attempted to pull up his shirt and tie over his head.

“Stiles?”

“Yeah?” Came the muffled reply as he got stuck.

“You want to do it now?"

Stiles finally threw the dress shirt over his head, leaving him bare in front of Derek. “Duh!”

Derek rolled his eyes but did remove his own shirt and tie as well. He caught Stiles staring. The Slytherin flushed and crossed his arms over his chest, trying to hide.

“You’ve seen me naked before.” Derek said.

“Not the same dude! Those were all under non-sexy times.”

Derek sighed. “Come here.”

He grabbed Stiles and pinned him below again. He didn’t give Stiles any time to think. He pressed his lips roughly against the younger’s. Stiles arms came around his shoulder until they were in the same position before. Despite, they were doing the same thing, it felt a lot more different when neither had any shirts on.

Derek could feel the way sweat clung to Stiles’ skin and dragged against his own. He could feel his heartbeat pressing more insistently against his chest.

Stiles finally relaxed and undid his belt and the zipper of his trousers. Derek broke the kiss and made sure this was ok with Stiles before helping him remove his pants. Derek didn’t get a chance to remove Stiles’ boxers because Stiles pressed his hand against Derek’s chest. He pushed him down to the bed until Stiles was straddling him.

“Stiles?”

“Dude you have no idea,” Stiles kissed his chest and dragged his teeth against Derek’s nipple before moving lower. “How long I’ve fantasized about your dick in my mouth.”

Derek felt himself twitch in his tight trousers.

“You don’t have to.”

Stiles ignored him. Stiles leaned further back and rose up, his knees on either side of him. He began to undo the belt of his trousers, his eyes watching Derek with enthusiasm. Derek reached out and pulled at the front of Derek’s boxers, but Stiles shrugged him off. “Dude, don’t distract me. I don’t want to accidentally bite your dick off.”

Derek stilled immediately, because yeah, Stiles was just as inexperienced as him.

Stiles finally opened his trousers and then as an afterthought stopped. Derek worried Stiles was having second thoughts, but Stiles leaned over Derek to grab Derek’s wand. Derek watched fascinated as his own wand readily accepted Stiles without any struggle. With a muttered spell, Stiles had Derek’s shoes and socks come right off, followed by his trousers and boxers.

He threw the wand somewhere by the pillows as he took in the sight of Derek’s erection.

Derek didn’t have any body issues, but Stiles wide eyed gaze was making Derek want to cover up. But like everything Stiles did, Stiles threw himself  head first and clasped his erection. Derek groaned at the motion of his hand. Closing his eyes, he began to push his hips into Stiles’ grip to a rhythm he found most pleasurable. Stiles’ other hand carefully massaged the rest of him and he was just about to smile at the blessings of it all when an explosion of sensation assaulted him.

Stiles mouth.

Stiles loud snarky mouth had taken him in. His hands remained at the base of Derek’s dick, moving and clutching with perfect pressure, but his lips and tongue worked its slick way over his dick and he couldn’t believe how heinously wonderful it felt.

“Oh shit,” Derek gasped, fisting the pillows beneath him.

Stiles mouth went a little lower and Derek groaned loudly. He hoped Merlin that nobody would walk in on them because he was in no condition to cast anything competently. No silencing charms; no locking charms; no nothing.

Stiles’ rhythm changed as he tried to go even lower and take him all in. Derek didn’t mean to snap his hips up. Stiles pulled back and then started coughing. Derek gasped and sat up reaching for Stiles.

He cupped his face and made sure he was ok. Stiles eyes were watery and he was gulping a few times.

“Sorry,” Derek repeated.

Stiles sucked in a breath. “Are you kidding? That was awesome. Now lay back, I’m gonna try again.”

“Stiles.” Derek reprimanded.

“What?” He said with a grin. Derek's right hand trailed to Stiles' lips, in awe of the flushed and swollen lips.

“Don’t push yourself.”

Stiles pouted and only Stiles could say with a straight face, “No, I’m gonna put your whole dick in my mouth and you are just going to take it.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Just fucking come over here, Stiles.” He dragged Stiles forward again. Derek leaned against his headboard as he had Stiles in his lap.

Derek’s kiss was demanding. Stiles made a sensual loud whine as Derek’s erection rubbed against his boxers. This was a lot less clothes than they were used to so Derek understood as Stiles gasped his name in a plea.

A coherent thought broke through his haze and made him smile. Stiles wanted control and Derek had taken it away, but he was determined not to make Stiles regret it. He dipped his hands into Stiles’ boxers and yanked them down to his thighs.

Stiles moaned loudly when Derek grasped both their slick erections in the palm of his hand. Stiles let go of all composure and whined a little louder. "Oh fuck, our bare dicks are touching." Derek smirked and leaned down and took one of Stiles’ dark nipples into his mouth. He tugged with his teeth as he continued to pump them up and down. It continued like this both of them breathing into each other’s mouth as they continued to kiss, until finally Stiles tensed above him and finally came, his release falling on both their chests. The onslaught of Stiles’ scent had Derek arching his back and then releasing shortly after.

Stiles collapsed in Derek’s arms. Derek arms encircled his waist and he pulled him up a bit so they could both lie down properly on the bed.

“I’m sticky,” Derek protested softly, when he felt their skin begin to stick together.

“I like it,” was Stiles quiet reply. But Derek sensed the lie. Stiles was just too lazy to move. He rolled Stiles to the side and searched for his wand somewhere above his head. He grabbed his wand and cleaned both of them up.

Stiles was lying on his back; both his arms were thrown over his eyes. Derek rolled his eyes and pecked Stiles’ neck as he dragged Stiles boxers back up. His hands trailed the Slytherin’s hips and slowly trailed up to his happy trail then to his stomach.

Stiles sucked in a breath.

Derek did as well as his fingers caught on Stiles’ scars left by Kali. Stiles slowly brought his arms down and glanced at Derek. Neither broke eye contact. Both of them had forgotten about them, too lost in the moment, but now both of them calm, Derek could sense Stiles’ discomfort.

“I’m sorry,” Derek apologized, slowly pulling his hand away.

Stiles hand latched onto his fingers. “No, it’s not for the reason you think. I’m not bothered by them. They’re just sensitive.”

Derek hand settled a little more firmly against Stiles’ lower stomach. “A bad sensitive?”

Stiles shivered as Derek moved his hand. “A good one.” He sighed.

Derek watched him carefully as he fit his own fingers against the marks. Stiles sighed in contentment. Derek smiled and buried his face in Stiles’ neck, breathing in the heady scent of sex.

“I wish you’d have let me do what I wanted to do,” Stiles said after a few moments.

Derek smirked against his neck. He placed a few kissed on Stiles, “Is that a complaint?”

“Are you kidding me? No!” Stiles rolled over and tucked himself into Derek’s embrace. Derek’s arm came around Stiles’ middle, pulling him closer. Stiles burrowed himself deeper. “But this was awesome. And anyway, I’ll get my chance next time, preferably when you least expect it. An empty hallway sounds perfect.”

Derek pinched Stiles’ waist in retaliation, hoping Stiles was joking.

Stiles chuckled in response.

Derek sighed and rolled his eyes for the hundredth time that night with a fond smile. He buried his nose in Stiles’ hair, breathing in deeply.

With a bit of courage he murmured, “I love you.”

He felt Stiles lips move against his chest, “I love you too.”

Derek felt relieved hearing both their heartbeats, knowing both of them meant every word.

 

|~~***~~|

 

To say that Derek and Stiles would act differently just because they declared their love for each other would be too much of a miracle. Literally the next day, right after Derek snuck him out of the Hufflepuff dorm before anyone woke up, Stiles got bored at breakfast during the Great Hall. Danny was writing out a letter to the twins. Scott and Lydia were writing to their mothers, and the others were working on homework assignments. So really, it was only perfectly logical for Stiles to pull out his wand and practice that extra strong silencing charm he learned two days ago and cast them on Derek.

Derek stumbled a little in his seat and then when he realized what had happened, he sent a full glare at Stiles. Stiles snorted and pretended not to notice. He tucked his wand back in his pocket and picked at his sausage.

Derek kicked him under the table.

“Aw, Derek, we’ve talked about this. This is not how you play footsie.”

Derek huffed and his eyebrows nearly drew into a line.

“Hey you two,” Danny interrupted beside Stiles. “When your done flirting, you want to write something to the twins?”

Stiles smiled at Derek and grabbed the letter Danny handed to him. He read over what the twins had written first.

_Hey,_

_Sorry we haven’t replied to your other letters, we’ve been super busy. But great news, we’ve finally got an orphanage up and running and we have three other staff members. One of them is a squib and decided to go to muggle school and they said they got a degree in Child and Adolescent Development. We didn’t even know muggles had such specific job descriptions, but we aren’t complaining. He’s been a big help to us and the few kids we’ve got. We only have five children so far but just five so far is a handful. Two of them keep having magical outburst when we give them time-out, which is nearly 80% of the time. Anyway, we’ve been good ourselves. We are expecting next week for a reporter from the Daily Prophet to come visit us. She said she wants an entire spread on our humanitarian work. So yeah, what have you guys been up to? How are classes? Who’s winning the Quidditch Cup?_

_Signed_   
_Ethan & Aiden_

Stiles grinned and jotted down in the long parchment next to Jackson’s complaining about the stupid tie. When he finished, he glanced at Derek. “You want to write something?” Derek huffed. “No? Ok, here you go Cora. It’s your turn.”

Stiles went back to his breakfast and continued smiling at an unamused Derek. No one really took notice. When the bell rang, Stiles pecked Derek on the lips and headed straight to History of Magic.

By the time lunch came around, Derek grabbed the collar of Stiles’ robes at the entrance of the Great Hall. Stiles laughed realizing the spell was still in place.

“Hey Derek,” Stiles grinned from ear to ear. “What’s up?”

Derek eyebrows came down.

“Derek,” Erica sighed, who had been walking with Stiles. “Use your words c’mon, none of that intimidating Alpha stuff.”

Derek only sent his glare to the blonde.

Erica pouted, “Fine then. Just don’t say I don’t ever help.”

“It’s ok Erica, I got this.”

“K.” She walked inside the Great Hall.

Stiles snorted and gently removed Derek’s fingers. He extended a hand, “Ready for lunch?”

Derek sighed exasperatedly. He didn’t take the hand and instead walked ahead. Stiles chased after him. During lunch, Stiles looked like he was going into random hysterics, but it was too damn funny that no one had realized Derek was under a pretty potent Silencing Charm. It was especially hilarious when the pack would ask Derek a question or expect him to make a comment in a conversation and all Derek would do would be a)raise an eyebrow b)glare or c)roll his eyes. It was the best prank he had ever pulled on someone.

Unfortunately, by the time dinner had rolled around, Stiles was seen running for his life down the staircase, being chased by Derek. The spell had worn off, and now Derek was screaming at Stiles. When the school saw this no one batted an eyelash and everyone continued on with their day.

 

|~~***~~|

 

“Hey can I talk to you?” Kira asked a Saturday afternoon in the end of November.

Stiles looked up and turned to Allison and Danny, who he had been sharing human time with in Hog’s Head, while the supernatural population roamed the rest of Hogsmeade. So Stiles had been shocked to see Kira there because the last he had seen of her was when Erica dragged her and Boyd into the Herbology shop. How Kira managed to escape Erica’s clutches was a mystery. “Uh...yeah.” Stiles pulled out a chair.

“In private?”

Stiles saw the concern in her eyes. He stood slowly. “Sure, we can go to the Shrieking Shack. Hardly anyone goes there.”

She smiled thankfully. “Perfect.”

Stiles tucked his blue scarf closer to his body. It was one of the ones Jackson had bought for him instead of the school issued ones. He couldn’t find his school scarf anywhere in the dorm. He had a faint idea where it could be but he wanted to wait before he called Derek out on stealing his clothes when he slept over at the Hufflepuff dorm. It would be excellent blackmail to reveal his boyfriend liked to smell his clothes. (Derek would insist—and he would be entirely correct—that Stiles really just forgot everything in the dorm, Theo and Rhys didn’t even question anymore when they found Slytherin issued things in their room).  

Stiles looked at Kira at the corner of his eye and saw her fumbling with her Ravenclaw scarf. Her gloved hands were in her pockets but Stiles could see them fumbling inside. He wanted to ask her immediately what was wrong, but they weren’t that far off from their destination.  

They walked down the path. Stiles could see the battered Shrieking Shack blending almost neatly into the grey sky. He recalled earlier that day, Derek saying he smelled a storm coming. Stiles tucked his hoodie closer to his frame.

They stopped walking until they reached the gate. They both swung their legs over the gate and jumped down. They sat with their backs against the gate, gazing at the Shrieking Shack in front of them.

Kira’s arms wrapped around her knees. “You used to hole up in there for the full moon, right?”

Stiles stole a quick glance then turned back to the run down house. “Yeah. Scott, Derek, Cora, and me sure have our stories in there. So what did you want to talk about?”

She bit her lip and moved her hair out of her face. “Um...don’t be offended or anything...I’m not doubting you...I um...I think you need to train harder.”

Stiles head snapped toward hers. “I’m sorry. What?”

“I don’t know.” Her hands twitched against her knees. “Us running about, you trying to catch me with mountain ash and stuff doesn’t seem enough.” Her face grew pinched and she brought her legs straight down. She turned to look at him as well. “Don’t you feel like there’s a real danger out there.” Her eyes scrunched. “What?”

Stiles turned back to the house. He took even shallow breaths. He faced her again. “Can you sense it? Can kitsunes sense danger?”

“I don’t know about that, but I feel like something is off. Something dark is lurking right beside your pack.”

Panic rose in his throat, collecting like bile. “Do you know what it is?”

She shook her head. “No. But I know it’s going to be big and you’re going to have to do something about it.”

Both of Stiles hands came to his chest.  “Me?”

“Yes.”

Stiles fell back against the gate. His hand swiped at his hair. “What can I do?”

She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Stiles, you’re a Moonwalker, a strong one. You can be even stronger by activating your third stage. You can face any dark creature in that stage.”

Stiles didn’t mean to slap her hand away. “I’m not activating my third stage!”

Her face hardened and then became cold. “It’s holding you back by not doing so.”

Stiles was startled by her demeanor. Her eyes became darker.

“You’re weak.” She spat. “Do you want in on a little secret? I hardly dispense any energy fighting with you. It’s not even a fight. All I’m doing is dodging your weak little puffs of ash. It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic.”

Stiles mimicked her coldness and spoke evenly. “I don’t give a shit. I’m not activating it. And if your mom told you to to convince me, you can tell her to shove a broom up her ass.”

Kira rolled her eyes. And then her lips turned feral. “You want me to convince you? Is that it?” Kira launched at him. She pinned him to the ground, straddled his waist, and held a wand to his throat. Stiles eyes went to the wand and back at Kira, then back at the wand. Pranking with Kira all of last month, alerted Stiles to one thing.

That wasn’t Kira’s wand.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Early Halloween!!!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Tell me all of your thoughts. Heartslogos told me I was being very cruel to Hufflepuff for having them fight a badger. I realize this now and I am so sorry! 
> 
> And very sorry to leave it on such a cliffhanger.


	50. Interrogation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harris is placed under question. Erica tries to distract the pack.

“Hey guys!” Kira chimed, swinging her scarf behind the table. She chucked off her coat and sat with the others. The rest of the pack trailed a few seconds behind her.

Allison scrutinized her intensely. Kira looked briefly over her shoulder. “Is everything alright?”

“Where’s Stiles?”

The rest of the pack stared at the confrontation curiously.

“What do you mean?” Kira asked, slowly removing her scarf. Was she supposed to get him?

Allison leaned closer. “You went to go have a talk with him in private at the Shrieking Shack.” “The what?”

Danny interrupted. “You were in here literally a few minutes ago.”

“No, I wasn’t.” She said bemusedly. “I was with Erica and Boyd in Dogweed and Deathcap. Right?”

Erica nodded, “Yeah we bought me SeaSlug Olive Oil for my hair.” She shook the brown bag. Jackson leaned over for a peek. He lectured how Grindylow Kelpie was far superior to SeaSlug Oil.

Ignoring the other two, Danny and Allison shared a significant look.

“Is she lying?” Allison asked Derek first.

“No,” Derek said, narrowing his eyes.

Allison and Danny stood up, their mugs toppled over. The pack's conversations ceased abruptly, startled by the affair.

Scott's voice raised in pitch. “What’s going on?” He angled his body in his chair to watch Allison and Danny ring the bell above the door. Allison kept her hands on the open door. The small bell remained at a slant.

“That wasn’t Kira!" Was all Allison said before she rushed outside. The tiny bell rung ominously in the silence of the pub.

It took a while for the rest of the pack to process the rapid disappearance of their friends. Their eyes met and like the string above the door, their brains became taut with realization. Bags, scarves, and drinks were left abandoned as the pack rushed into the streets of Hogsmeade.

 

Derek heard his heart banging incoherently against his eardrums. Crowds of students blocked his straight run down the main road. Abandoning proprietary, Derek, and the others, shoved students out of the way.

When they arrived at the highest point of the road that led down the hill to the Shrieking Shack, they all saw a duplicate Kira with her wand at Stiles’ neck and a spell ready on her lips. Stiles’ hands dragged against the dirt as he tried to reach for his wand, but the duplicate kept her knee against his forearm.

Derek was aware he should have been more careful, but the image of a pack member lying in a vulnerable position caused a primal part of his brain to activate.

Briefly, he felt his clothes shredding against his expanding body. He dashed forward so quickly on all fours that his howl barely had enough time to resonate on people's ears.

He jumped over the gate and with his teeth, he latched onto the closest thing in his reach. He tasted leather under his tongue and then he heard a cracking voice of pain.

He flung the duplicate Kira against the outer wall of the Shrieking Shack.

Derek saw the duplicate choke down her pain as she pulled up her sleeve. She removed her leather wand holster. While Derek's teeth had failed to puncture her skin, it was obvious he had broken bones as part of her wrist stuck out unnaturally.

He heard the others arrive. When he saw they surrounded the duplicate, Derek crawled to Stiles. With his snout, he helped Stiles sit up. He brushed his wet nose against Stiles' neck.

Stiles batted him way when he heard Scott shout.

Scott's wand was poised as he interrogated the duplicate. “Who are you?”

The pack surrounded the copy. The duplicate masked her pain through a weak laugh. She cradled her arm by her chest as she snarled. “You don’t recognize me?” She glared at them, the hostility on Kira's copied features was horrifying. “And I thought werewolves had heightened senses.”

“Blake?” Cora whispered, recognizing her scent first.

“Julia Baccari.” Danny corrected, coming in with his own wand. Allison and Lydia had theirs pointed too.

“Oh, Danny. You were the one to piece it all together, weren’t you? If it weren’t for you, I would have successfully killed this little pack. I should have had Matt kill you in your sleep.”

“What are you doing here?” Isaac snarled above her voice.

The duplicate Kira scoffed. Her eyes fell on Stiles who was being protected by Derek. She smiled menacingly. “Paying my star pupil a visit. Thank you for interrupting or meeting. Remember what I said, Stiles.” She apparated away with a large cracking noise before anyone could stop her. The pack released various growls.

Derek transformed back to his human form. His nudity hardly faced anyone as he dragged Stiles to his feet. “What did she tell you?” Derek interrogated harshly.

“Nothing.”

“Stiles.” Derek growled, his Alpha eyes had yet to recede.

Right. No more lying to Derek about important things. He took a deep breath. “She said I needed to train harder with Kira. I need to activate my third stage.”

“Train harder? For what?” Scott asked, coming up to his friend and checking if he was ok.

“She said something is coming.”

“That doesn’t make sense. Why would she warn us?” Boyd questioned.

The pack was quiet for a moment. Cora summoned Derek's shredded clothes and repaired them to the best of her ability. Derek was buttoning up his pants when Lydia stepped forward. “I think the question we should ask is how does she know about Stiles’ training in the first place? How does she know about Kira? No one outside the pack knows about those things.”

“Maybe she’s been spying on us,” Allison suggested.

“We would have sensed her; trust me,” Derek replied.

Lydia teeth skimmed her bottom lip. The answer hit her quickly. “Harris.”

 

|~~***~~|

 

“What did you think you were doing?” Peter snarled as he watched Blake return.  

“Thinking ahead.” She answered, collapsing on the couch. She clutched her arm as she was jostled. Peter noticed her debilitated state immediately. He rolled his eyes and chastised her like a child. Nevertheless, he pulled out his wand and muttered a healing spell. Blake watched him with fascination as the spell fell easily from his lips. She had not been aware Peter was apt in healing spells. Peter muttered one more and Blake watched attentively the bruise on her skin fade. She gave a breath of relief and began to shed her thick clothes.

Peter rolled his eyes and stood to sit across from her. He waved his hand in her general direction. “Who the hell is that?”

“Kira Yukimura,” Blake replied with a smile, “She’s a kitsune from what I’ve been told.”

“A kitsune?”

“Yes. I feel so attuned to her form. I would love to see her as a fox.”

Peter leaned forward. “Do you know what type of kitsune?”

“From what I’ve been told, she’s a lightning one.”

Peter smirked. “That’s what it referred to. A lightning guardian, a kitsune.” Peter laughed. “This is really going to happen. We have all the pieces now. A creature forged in silver, agh!” He stood up and paced around the room. Blake watched him.

“So you aren’t going to yell at me?”

“What? Oh. I’m not going to because really that was incredibly stupid of you and I am shocked you didn’t get caught by aurors. I’m actually impressed that your lack of judgment still yields the appropriate results.”

Blake rolled her eyes, “It was a risk worth taking. We need the boy. When we’re done with our mission that thing we are releasing is going to be out of control. We are going to need someone strong enough to vanquish it.”

“What gave you that idea?”

“Deucalion did. He had said it’s a creature of vengeance and he’s going off assumption but when our vengeance is done, he began to speculate of what would happen to the creature.”

Peter sighed, “Surprisingly, that makes sense.” He sighed and rubbed his forehead, “It’s good you told them. The boy will be prepared.”

Blake bit her lip. “Are we hundred percent certain it is that boy.”

“Who else would it be? It says so.”

“Fair enough.” She stood up, “Do you still need me to go recruit others?”

“No, we are taking a break from it.”

“Why? We only have about two other werewolves willing to help us; that is not enough Peter!”

“I am aware, but many werewolves aren’t with their packs yet. The holidays are approaching anyway, that’s when they will be together.”

“That’s perfect. It will be easier to find them.”

“No.” Peter sighed, “Holidays tend to be a time when hunters like to kill, especially in the Americas. It’s easier for them by the fact that the werewolves are grouped together. It will be a waste of time if we recruit werewolves before then. After the holidays, we will see who remains, and from them I’m sure there will be many werewolves willing to join our cause.”

Blake downcast her eyes, “That sounds really morbid.”

“It’s survival.”

 

|~~***~~|

 

The pack returned to the castle, but Lydia’s mind was clouded with Adrian Harris’ disgusting mug. When they approached the staircase, Lydia gripped Allison’s and Cora’s hands. Erica stopped on default upon listening to Lydia’s rapid heartbeat. Lydia knew was clever enough to know this was stupid and she knew Derek wouldn’t allow it. Nor would Jackson or any of the other boys. But something had to be done.

“Lydia?” Jackson murmured.

“Sorry. I left something in the Ravenclaw dormitory.” She spoke in clipped, even tones. She glanced at Cora and Erica. She sighed, knowing that she had kept her heartbeat even enough to fool them.

Luckily, Erica caught on quickly. “Oh, you know what I think? I think we need to have a girl’s night out in the Ravenclaw dorms.”

Lydia smiled. “Perfect. You boys and Kira head to the Room.”

Lydia watched Kira’s face fall at obviously not being invited. But Lydia couldn’t drag Kira along. If Harris knew about her and was able to take her hair without even being in close contact with her, then Lydia didn’t want to put the young girl’s life in danger. “Sorry but you haven’t been around us long enough to have a girl’s night.” Lydia said, slipping into her cold exterior easily.

Kira’s face fell even more. Boyd placed a hand on her shoulder, “C’mon. I’ve got a great book on dragons that I left in the Room.”

Lydia watched the boys and Kira leave. After a few moments, Lydia released a breath.

“Where did you learn to lie to werewolves?” Cora asked, deeply intrigued.

“I’ve been practicing with Jackson without him knowing. Girl’s got have some secrets.” She took another breath. “Ok. Are we all on the same page?”

Erica leaned her weight on one leg, “We’re gonna go fucking murder Harris, right?”

“Erica,” Allison chastised, but Lydia could see the murderous intent in the hunter’s eyes clearly.

“Basically. C’mon, he’s in his office around this time.”

Lydia’s heels echoed against the stone stairs as she rushed up them, the other girls right behind her. No one spoke of a plan, but for them it easily fell into a role.

Cora picked the lock with a spell and pushed open the door. Harris looked startled upon seeing them as he was hunched over his desk grading papers. Erica slammed the door behind them while Allison binded Harris to his chair with a spell.

Harris struggled against the binds. “What is the meaning of this?” He shouted.

Cora cast a silencing charm in the room.

“Listen here,” Lydia spoke dangerously. “You are going to answer everything, do you understand?”

“Ms. Martin,” Harris tried to reason first.

Lydia pulled out her wand. Harris reeled back as much as he could. She watched his adam's apple bob. She knew even the professors were scared of her when faced with the wrong side of her wand.

Harris’ jaw clenched and then, “I swear once the Headmaster finds out—” Harris yelled.

Allison stepped forward and threateningly spoke, “She asked you a question, answer it.”  

Lydia sighed, “Do you understand?” She repeated.

“No.” Harris said defiantly. “All of you girls are in deep trouble!”

“Wrong answer.” Erica snarled. She extended her claws and immediately went to place them at Harris’ throat.

“Ok, ok!” Harris yelped, upon feeling the claws dig into his skin. “I’ll answer anything.”

Lydia scoffed in disgust at Harris’ cowardice. “Did you recently make a polyjuice potion?” Lydia asked.

Harris took shaky breaths but nodded. Cora, who was leaning against the door, spoke up, “Use your voice.”

“Yes, I did.” Harris said breathily.

“He’s telling the truth,” Cora replied.

Lydia nodded and continued, “Did you make a polyjuice potion for Julia Baccari.”

Harris gulped. “Where did you hear that name?”

“It doesn’t matter. Did you make it for her?”

Harris sighed, “Yes.”

“Did you know who she impersonated today?” Lydia stomped forward.

Harris hesitated. Erica snarled and pressed her claws to his neck, pinching the skin. Harris shook his head. “No. I just give her the potion. She puts the hair in after.”

“Truth.” Cora said.

Lydia grunted in frustration. “How does Baccarri know about Kira though?”

“Kira Yukimura? The foreign exchange student, what about her?”

“Do you know what she is?” Lydia questioned.

“No.”

“Truth,” Cora repeated, this time confused. “I don’t get it. If it wasn’t him who told Blake. Then who?”

The girls’ heads snapped as they heard the door click open.

“Hello Adrian, can I borrow—” Morrell froze as she saw the scene before her.

Allison panicked first, “We can explain.”

Morrell sighed and then narrowed her eyes. “You better.”  

 

|~~***~~|

 

Alan sat Adrian in his office. The Potions Professor was still bound thanks to Allison Argent’s spell. Her spellwork impressed Alan, so he let the binds remain, especially after what the four young girls had told him. He dismissed them from his office, shortly after, only he, Adrian and Marin remained. Although, from the blue glow under the crack of his door, he was positive either Cora or Lydia had cast an eavesdropping spell.

Alan flicked his wand. A chair dragged against his rug and plopped itself in front of Adrian. Alan sat across from him. He could hear his half-sister lurking by the desk.

“Alright, Adrian. I am going to make this simple. You tell me the truth, I’ll convince the Wizengamot to leave you with a prison sentence in the Ministry’s basements rather than in Azkaban.”

“If I lie?”

“Then you will surely be in Azkaban.”

“Both choices are shit.”

“Really a small jail cell compared to a sentence in Azkaban surrounded by dementors? You may want to rethink your choice.”

Adrian rolled his eyes. “What do you want from me?”

“The truth. Who did you make the potion for?”

Adrian looked up at Alan and then he looked over Alan’s shoulder at Marin. “Weren’t you listening to the girls? I did it for Julia.”

“I need to hear it from your own mouth. So why?” Alan asked, curiously. “You do not possess any relation to werewolves. Why are you helping a former emissary?”

“She blackmailed me.”

“What for?”

“Selling illegal potions.”

Alan nodded. “Did you know Baccari would attempt to enter school grounds.”

“No.”

“How long have you been helping her?”

“A year before I began teaching.”

Alan eyed him cryptically. Adrian had been blackmailed, but surely the man knew he was safe in Hogwarts grounds. He licked his lips, something else was happening here.

“Who else have you been helping?” Alan interrogated. It was a shot in the dark, but the most plausible conclusion.

Again, Adrian looked over his shoulder. His eyes opened wide, Alan deduced his half-sister had glared at the man so he would answer. “Peter Hale.”

Alan nearly lost his composure. “Peter? Why?”

Once more Adrian’s eyes shifted. He hung his head at his chest. He took a small breath, “Peter thinks he can revive Lycaon.”

Alan leaned back in his seat in realization, “You were the one who made the potion for Deucalion. You are still helping them.”  Then Alan’s eyebrows furrowed. “How exactly are you helping them? We stopped the ritual, they have no means on how to raise him. The moment has passed.”

“I’m only helping Julia by concealing her appearance so she can help Peter recruit other werewolves. Why they want to recruit werewolves, Peter and...the other won’t tell me.”

“Other?” Alan questioned immediately. “There’s someone else, who?”

Adrian sighed, “While Julia threatens me with Azkaban the other threatens me with death.”

Alan’s eyes shook in sympathy. He leaned forward and placed a comforting hand on Adrian’s knee. “Adrian, Hogwarts is safe. If you tell us, I promise no harm will come to you.” Alan licked his lips and mulled it for a second before adding, “And I promise we won’t imprison you.”

Adrian laughed abruptly. Alan pulled back his hand in shock, “You think Hogwarts is safe?! From that person! You are so mistaken...the other...they are dangerous. They will kill me as soon as I announce who they are. I'm not stupid. And I’m positive as soon as I reveal it they will kill your pack.” Adrian shook his head, his eyes shaking in fear.

Alan sighed knowing it was futile to get anything out of Adrian, but then he took a long pause. “How did you know about my pack? Was it Julia?”

Adrian glanced between Marin then back to Alan. “When helping make the appropriate potions to help Baccari break Deucalion, Kali, and Ennis out of Azkaban, it wasn’t very difficult to piece it all together on my own.” He glared at Marin, “She hung off him all throughout Hogwarts, I assume she was perfectly aware of their werewolf lineage. And seeing how you trailed after the eldest Hale in the same manner, it was fairly easy to dissect from there. What I never quite grasped was why you two would ally yourself with werewolves. They’re barbaric and destroy the natural order of pure magic, which makes you even worse for working together.” His stare faced Marin again, “And you, I can’t believe you let that wolf tup you.”  

Alan’s eyes narrowed. He knocked his chair backward in his haste to stand. His wand pressed against Adrian’s jugular.  He wasn’t one for rash judgments, but no one insulted Marin’s relationship with Alexandros. Despite, Alexandros’ poor choices after his release from Azkaban, the man he had been before was someone Alan had admired greatly. Alexandros had been the reason the Deucalion and Hale pack had formed an alliance. Alexandros was a great man and his past image always would be. Marin had fallen in love with that man, so for Adrian to stupidly make judgments based on Alexandros’ lycanthropy was something Alan could not stand. He had seen how after her pack had been murdered, the damage it had done to her.

Marin stepped forward, “Enough.” She said calmly. She grasped Alan’s forearm and brought it down. She eyed Adrian calculating, “You’ve always disgusted me.” She turned back to Alan, “He’s not going to tell us anymore. It’s pointless to waste our time on him when we could be spending it on looking for this other that he speaks of. If there is an other, he might also be trying to fool us.”

Alan sighed, “Then it’s settled. Adrian, you no longer have a home in Hogwarts.”

“What?!” He jolted in his seat.

“You are fired.”

“You can’t fire me. Where are you going to find another Potions professor?”

“I think I am qualified to fill the position at least until I find someone else. You are dismissed. Marin, go get the aurors to escort him out.”

Marin smiled, “Gladly.”

As she headed to the door, Alan stopped her, “Marin.”

“Yes?”

“Find Peter Hale after you are done.”

She nodded.

 

|~~***~~|

 

The next night, Stiles, Danny, and Jackson rested in the Slytherin dormitories. Stiles was sitting on his bed, pretending to read a book as he chewed on his nails. His eyes fell to Danny, who got up and momentarily left the room. Stiles sprang from the bed and hopped to Jackson’s.

“What the fuck?” Jackson snarled, when Stiles almost knocked over his ink goblet.

Stiles could care less. He yanked Jackson’s sleeve and hauled him into the bathroom. He slammed the door.

Jackson’s annoyance slipped for a few seconds when he heard Stiles’ heartbeat.

“What’s wrong?” Jackson crossed his arms over his chest, as if to feign indifference to Stiles’ situation.

“Harris.”

“What about him?”

“What the girls told us when they eavesdropped on Deaton’s little interrogation. Blake blackmailed Harris.”

“...So?”

“So! Harris wasn’t an emissary like we thought.” Stiles groaned loudly when Jackson continued to give him a blank stare. “Dude! What we talked about at the end of summer!”

Jackson’s eyes widened a fraction. “You think the game is starting?”

“I feel like it started a long time ago.” Stiles spoke truthfully. “But what has me worried is that Harris wasn’t the second figure like we thought.”

Jackson uncrossed his arms, “Why does this even matter to us anymore? Lycaon didn’t rise, Blake didn’t get her revenge, they don’t have much to do. Why are we concerned if there is someone new?”

“Because Blake and fucking Peter are trying to revive Lycaon again.”

“And we are going to believe Blake and Harris after they nearly killed us?”

Stiles licked his lips. Jackson had a point. But for some reason, Blake’s words scared him. Why would she come to him for help?

“Look, if you are so worried, why don’t we tell your dad?”

“Huh? What! No!” Stiles commented quickly. “We can’t involve him in this.”

“Stiles,” Jackson retorted as if he was speaking to someone stupid. And in Jackson’s case, he probably thought he was. “Your father is the Head Auror.”

“I know but he’s content right now working on small cases. This sounds dangerous.”

“We don’t even know what this is,” Jackson reached for the door handle. Stiles blocked his way. The werewolf could easily shove him and by the fact that he didn’t meant Jackson still was curious about the subject.

“But we know it’s something that involves me and them trying to revive Lycaon.”

Jackson rolled his eyes, “Don’t sound so pretentious.”

Stiles mimicked Jackson.

He tried to speak but Jackson interrupted him, “Look. Stiles. Forget it. Harris is sacked we have a new professor. Nothing is going to enter Hogwarts again. That conversation I had with you during the summer, I was just…” He shook his head, “Stop being so fucking paranoid.”

Jackson met his eyes and Stiles knew Jackson was terrified.

Jackson took a deep breath pushed Stiles out of the way and went back to the room.

Stiles followed him a few minutes later.

During late at night, Stiles awoke to a terrible nightmare. A searing image of arrows lodged in heads and throats burned in his retinas. He couldn’t sleep for the rest of the evening.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Stiles’ stomach immediately felt uneasy as he stepped into the Forbidden Forest with his usual training with the Yukimura family. His eyes were glazed, staring at nothing in particular as Yukimura spoke. Her words couldn’t penetrate his deep thoughts. He felt wrong being here. His magic had been quelled significantly because of the training, but what Blake had said, it made Stiles question whether he should be there.

“Mr. Stilinski,” Yukimura said in a firm tone.

He snapped out his haze and jumped back comically as Yukimura was less than a foot apart from him.

“This is not the time or place for you to daydream.”

“Sorry.” Stiles mumbled. He licked his lips and kicked the dirt.

“Um…mom?” Kira spoke softly. “I think we should hold off on these trainings.”

Stiles looked up as Kira read his mind.

Yukimura straightened, “And why is that?”

“Blake.” Stiles replied. “She said I needed to train harder with you.”

Yukimura sighed, “She’s right.”

“Excuse me but did you not just hear me—”

“—Yes, I did hear you,” Yukimura said calmly. “Deaton informed of the situation.  However, while you may feel at odds in training because of her words, you do need to start training harder.”

“Why? I’m following what she wants me to do!” Stiles snapped.

Stiles always felt a tad guilty for shouting at his professor, but like always, the Japanese woman took it in stride. “And what does she want you to do?”

Stiles licked his lips. “I don’t know.”

“Then how do you know it’s bad?”

“Because the woman is psychotic!”

She ignored him, “All we know is that your powers were inherently made to fight off werewolves.”

“You mean kill.”

“I will not be teaching you that. I will teach you defense and control. Whatever that woman has planned for you, you will at least be prepared with my training.”

“What if she controls me again to kill the pack? What if that’s her aim?”

“I said I was teaching you control, did I not?”

“There’s a way to fight off the Imperius Curse?”

Yukimura sighed and took a step to the side. She walked around him in a large circle, “No. But I will teach you control of magic in which only you have power over and she can’t touch. So are you ready to train?”

“Will you promise me no one in my pack will get hurt because I did decide to listen to Blake’s words.”

Yukimura smiled bitterly, “I can’t make promises that I do not know the outcome of, Mr. Stilinski.” She sat at her usual boulder. “Kira, get into position.”

The Ravenclaw nodded and stood in front of Stiles.

Stiles shut his eyes and took a deep breath. There was no point in arguing. Yukimura was right, it was imperative to learn and she hadn’t been wrong about his magic in the first place. Plus, if Lycaon were to rise it was important he had control of his powers to face the demon.

“What am I doing?” He asked going back to the lesson.

“You will create a mountain ash ring around my daughter.”

Stiles eyes narrowed in confusion, “And that’s different from what I’ve been doing how?”

“She will not try to escape.”

Stiles shrugged. He outstretched his right hand and took a deep breath. The mountain ash popped around the kitsune until it fell around her in one swoop. Stiles cursed under his breath, realizing that this had been the only time he had caught Kira, and it was because she was letting him.

“Kira,” Yukimura ordered.

Kira nodded. As usual, she used her wand to configure her mask. She tucked her wand back in her robes and for the first time, Stiles watched as she unsheathed her sword.  Kira stepped forward, two fingers against the barrier.

“Hey!” Stiles cried in concern when he saw her fingertips sizzle.

She looked up at him. Stiles could not discern her emotion with the mask in place. He stood rooted as Kira went around the ring of mountain ash. She stopped, her back facing Stiles. She stepped back and curled both hands around her katana. She swung down in one broad stroke. The barrier cracked with lightning and then Stiles watched with confusion as the pebbles of mountain ash scattered and dispersed. He turned back to Kira as she calmly stepped out.

“What the hell?” Stiles screeched.

Kira brought her mask to rest on the top of her head. “You made a mistake in creating your barrier.” She said a tad embarrassed.

“Uh…no I didn’t! That was a complete circle. What’s going on?” He turned to Yukimura.

The woman smirked, “Like my daughter said, you made a mistake. While creating mountain ash out of thin air is surely impressive, it is deeply flawed especially the way Moonwalkers cast it.”

“I don’t understand.”

“How do you create mountain ash, Mr. Stilinski?”

“By visualizing where I want it to go.”

Yukimura smirked, “Ok. Turn to Kira. What’s behind her?”

“A tree.” He answered.

“But what does the tree look like?”

Stiles spluttered. “Like a tree.”

“Can you see the lines on the bark? The dirt and the stones behind her?”

Stiles answer came slowly, “No.”

“And there is the flaw. You need to visualize where it will go but you cannot see what’s behind her. So while you can create a circle around her, there is a tiny crack in the barrier that if one searches for diligently enough, one can break the ash.”

“So how do I fix it?”

“You have to take in a quick mental image of what’s behind Kira and then cast the mountain ash. So now that you know that, care to try again?”

Stiles nodded. He took a step to the side to look at what was behind Kira, but the girl didn’t give him much time to examine his surroundings. He sighed as he realized she was not going to move. He attempted the ring again. It fell around her perfectly. But once more, Kira turned her back and swiped her sword through the barrier.

The unsuccessful attempts carried on through the night. And not once could Stiles do it. Usually by the hour mark he was ready to call it quits, but this time it came much sooner, barely twenty minutes in he was already tired and panting on the floor. The only consolation was that Kira seemed to be tired as well from exerting effort in breaking down the barrier. At thirty minutes, Yukimura called it quits.

Both teens collapsed on the ground.

“I don’t understand, why am I so tired?” Stiles panted.

“You were exerting more of your magic to strengthen the barrier rather than completing it, that’s why.” Yukimura explained. She stepped to her daughter and grabbed her burned hand. Stiles felt immediately guilty; he had caused that.

But Kira looked up at him and sent a dazzling smile. She outstretched her hand to her mother and let her handle the healing process.

It took a little longer than usual, but soon Kira and Stiles were both leaning on each other in fatigue as they made their way back to the castle.

“Congratulations, Mr. Stilinski,” Yukimura spoke. “It seems we have found a way to make our training sessions shorter. With that, we will still be meeting regularly. Once you master the ring, we will focus on your speed.”

Stiles nodded tiredly in confirmation.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Isaac held his notebook under his arm as he treaded down the steps to the grounds. It was an early Sunday morning, most of the school was still asleep. Merlin, Isaac would have been asleep too if he didn’t have a report to do. He rubbed his eyes with his scarf and grimaced as the scratchy cotton irritated his eyes. He wiped at his eyes with his hands instead and yawned. When his blurry vision cleared, he saw a female figure by the edge of the forest.

The figure had a notebook in their lap as they sat on the ground. Examining very intently a small boulder, the figure made notes and brushed their long dark chestnut hair out of their face.

Isaac approached and finally pieced together that the figure was none other than Allison.

He considered heading back to the castle upon seeing her. He felt a little ambivalent toward her. He knew this girl had risked her life for them countless times before, risked her life for Derek, but still, Isaac felt cautious of her. After all, she had shot him with an arrow with the intent of killing him. And when he thought back on the incident it felt so long ago, but truly it was only a year ago. Was a year enough to erase how she used to think of them?

Nope.

He took a step back, but his shoes crunched against a large pile of leaves.

The noise was startling in the quiet of the morning. Allison’s hair slapped against her face as she turned and stood quickly. He saw the hunter emerge in her eyes as she pulled out her wand. Before Isaac could react, she was already flinging him into the air.

Isaac fell on his back with a loud thunk. His own instinct told him to curl in on himself in fear.

Get back here you coward.

Isaac’s hands came to his ears.

You useless thing. Look at what you made me do. This is your fault. You should know better than to sneak up on—

“Isaac!”

His hands curled this time into his hair. His father’s voice was ringing deep in his head.

“Isaac?”

He heard a thunk fall beside him.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to! Isaac. Are you ok? Oh shoot, I’m really sorry. It was my total fault.”

A hand touched his shoulder. He flinched.

“Isaac?”

Isaac licked his lips and slowly sat up. Allison’s face was inches away from him, way too close for Isaac’s taste. He was barely used to Erica’s and Scott’s invasion of his personal bubble, and that was only when he gave them the signal for it to be ok. He didn’t give Allison the signal. He didn’t like Allison in his space at all. He was actually about to shove her away, but Allison sat back on her heels, putting a great distance between them.

“I’m sorry,” She repeated.

Isaac shakily nodded.

“Are you hurt?” She asked.

Isaac rolled his shoulders. It ached a bit, “Nothing that won’t heal.”

“I really am so sorry. You startled me.”

“It’s fine. I deserved it.”

Allison tilted her head, “No you didn’t. I should have been paying attention to my surroundings more.”

Isaac felt uncomfortable by her acceptance of the blame. It was odd and somewhat unwelcome. He took one long breath. He then pointed to the boulder. “What are you doing?” Isaac asked.

Allison sighed. She stood and walked back to the boulder. Isaac followed her, glad she didn’t press upon his near mental breakdown. She sat down and placed her notebook back on her lap. Isaac sat beside her.

She took her own long breath and with her quill, pointed at the Sun Rock Snail crawling lazily along the boulder.

“Oh, that’s what I needed too.”

Allison glanced at him, “You can join me. Mr. Poops A Lot isn’t very exciting though.”

“Ms. Poops A Lot.”

“Huh?”

“Ms. It’s a girl. You can tell from the way the sunspots blend in with the shell rather than being a distinct outline.”

“Oh. Shoot.” Allison went back a few pages in her notebook and crossed out a few stuff. “Thanks.”

Isaac nodded awkwardly. He looked behind to see where his notebook landed. He saw it was where Allison threw him. He moved to get it, but Allison summoned it with her wand. It landed perfectly on his lap. “Thanks,” Isaac muttered. He began to take general observation notes on how it looked, moved, and how it interacted with its surroundings. When he finished the basics, he began to sketch the snail.

“What are you doing out here?” Allison asked tentatively.

“Same as you, working on my report.”

“I know, but you tend to be finished with stuff like this before anyone.”

“I’ve been a little on edge. I haven’t had time to work on homework.”

Allison nodded. “I think we’ve all been.”

He realized her abrupt reaction was probably because of what had occurred. “Yeah.” He stopped sketching and closed his notebook. The snail began to move. “Do you think Lycaon is coming back?”

“I don’t know. What did Derek say?”

“Said we aren’t going to get involved. I don’t see that happening considering our luck. He’s also a little teed off at me and Stiles, but I think he’s over it right now and just ignoring it.”

“Why is he angry?”

Isaac sighed, “Cause Stiles and I knew that Peter had tried to revive Lycaon before. We didn’t know he was still trying. In our defense we thought it was unimportant at the time.”

Allison flinched at Peter’s name. “My dad and Professor Morrell are out looking for Peter right now.”

“Oh. I hope they find him. He was an asshole.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah.” He forced a smile.

 

|~~***~~|

 

It was sometime in early December when the pack was eating breakfast in the Great Hall. The pack had yet to forget the drama from November, and frankly Erica was annoyed by it all. She had tried to deflect people’s conversations as best she could, but she was growing weary. Even more at reading her mother’s letter. She sighed, throwing the letter on the table. She stabbed her sausage and plucked it into her mouth.

“You ok?” Boyd asked despite he knew he shouldn’t.

“Peachy.”

Boyd rolled his eyes and grabbed the letter without asking her. He skimmed it quickly and then snorted. “Really? This is what has you in a mood?”

“Oh c’mon, don’t tell me you didn’t think about going to one too before you found out you were a wizard.”

“Never.” He smiled.

“Really?” She rose a brow and pouted.

“From what I hear, they are always held in the gym in my school district. You know how those go.”

“Oh.” She put on a sympathetic face and then she sighed, “I’ve been thinking about going to one since I was little and saw them on the telly. It was a step of normalcy I wanted to achieve, you know.” She said sadly.

“What are you two talking about?” Isaac asked.

“School Formal.” Boyd and Erica said in tandem with groans for different reasons.

“What’s School Formal?” Lydia asked intrigued.

“Uh it's a school dance. It's a pretty big deal, it’s usually held in Year 11…” When she saw the panic in their face at a Year 11, she provided them with more information, “Year 11 is when students are about 15 or 16. Anyway it’s a big deal, schools tend to have one in December and another at the end of the year. My mom just sent me a letter saying my cousin is getting ready for hers.”

Lydia scrunched her face. “So it’s a dance. Who cares? I’ve been to a lot of formal events and they are always the same. You’re not missing much, trust me.”

Erica was about to let the subject drop, but then an idea hit her. “Except this one,” Erica grinned and leaned across the table, “Has a King and Queen.”

“The Queen of England visits?” Isaac questioned ignorantly.

“No um...King and Queen are a somewhat recent idea. We stole the idea from schools in the U.S., but anyway students nominate about 10 students to be King and Queen. And then at the dance, people make their vote, and at the end of it someone is crowned King and Queen, you get a real crown and everything.”

Lydia’s eyes sparkled. “A crown?”

Erica nodded proudly.

Lydia sucked in a breath and snapped her head toward Derek. Jackson, sitting beside her, cursed as he got a mouthful of her hair.

“Derek! You’re Head Boy! We should organize an event.”

Erica licked her lips. Oh, that was way too easy. A dance was the perfect way to get everyone’s attention away from Blake.

“No.” Derek said, overhearing the conversation.

“What? But it’s your job to bring the school together.”

“Not with a dance.” Cora murmured.

“What’s the harm in it?” Allison questioned. “We used to have balls at Beauxbatons all the time.”

“Same.” Kira spoke, “In Mahoutokoro we had some practically every holiday. Although, those tended to be more like parties since the students organized them.”

“We don’t have the funds for them,” Derek stated. “We’ve been allocating funds already to different clubs at school. Most go to Quidditch repairs. Unless, you want the school down your throat for ruining Quidditch.”

“Yeah nope!” Stiles interrupted loudly. “I’m with Derek. Quidditch over a dance any day.”

“You are only agreeing with him cause he’s your boyfriend.” Erica snarled, this distraction was going to happen one way or another.

Stiles stuck his tongue out.

“Can’t we just fund it?” Allison asked, slowly enjoying the idea. “How much can a dance cost?”

“Not much.” Lydia grinned. “My mom throws them all the time and I bet we would only have to ask for a few galleons on some decorations, the other ones we can just make them with magic.”

Erica smiled as she saw the light in Lydia’s eyes. “Are you already thinking of designs?”

Lydia nodded. “Yes. Something simple, classy, timeless and elegant.”

Erica grinned with a lot of teeth. “A Winter Ball.”

And plan in motion.

 

|~~***~~|

 

“You ok?” Stiles asked Derek as he walked into the Room. Derek rolled his eyes. He looked at the recliner chair and then at Stiles lying on his back on the large couch. He sighed and made his way to Stiles instead.

Stiles oofed as Derek collapsed on top of him. Stiles smiled softly and dropped the book he had been reading to the side to wrap his arms around Derek.

“I’m guessing the prefect meeting this month didn’t go well,” Stiles said.

Derek growled.

“Lydia?” Stiles asked.

“All of the prefects and the Head Girl.” Derek groaned.

“Even Cora?”

“Minus Cora. For once she is on my side.”

Stiles patted Derek’s hair. “Is a dance really that bad?”

“No, but doesn’t mean I want to oversee one.”

“If Lydia is in charge, I doubt you will be.”

“That’s true. They already got Deaton’s approval anyway, can’t do much to stop it.”

“I say you just sit back and enjoy Lydia doing her thing. According to the Ravenclaws, she throws the best parties and balls are her thing.”

Derek sighed, “Just promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“You aren’t going to prank the ball.”

“Are you kidding? Lydia would slaughter me, there would be nothing left of me.”

“Exactly. I like you all in one piece, even if it is an annoying piece.” Derek rested his head on Stiles’ chest.

Stiles chuckled, and then added, “You’re cuddly.”

“Full moon is tomorrow.”

“Isn’t that supposed to make you more hostile?”

“Not when your anchor is right here.”

Stiles felt his heart quicken. “I’m your anchor?”

Derek only hummed in response and rubbed his nose on Stiles’ neck. Stiles tilted his head back to let Derek do his werewolf scent thing.

“Since when?” Stiles asked curiously.

He felt Derek lick his lips against his neck, “I don’t know.” He scooched down the couch a bit so Stiles had a little more breathing room. Derek head fell on Stiles’ stomach, “I think...when I got my tattoo?”

Stiles nearly blinded Derek with an elbow as he sat up quickly. “That long? We weren’t even together!”

“I’ve liked you for a while.” Derek said reluctantly.

“I didn’t know it was for that long. Now I feel like a jackass.”

Derek shrugged, “Can’t be helped.” He grinned.

“Oh!” Stiles tackled his boyfriend to the end of the sofa. “Nice.”

Derek only quirked an eyebrow. He looked up at Stiles. “Do you really want to do this?”

“Do what?” Stiles played dumb.

Derek moved too quickly for Stiles’ to see. All he knew in one second he had Derek pinned and the next he was on the couch face down, with Derek pinning him with his weight. “Ow!” Stiles whined. So to even the playing field, Stiles wiggled his ass into Derek’s crotch.

Derek growled.

“Oh, oops.”

Derek pulled his hips away from Stiles’ ass. “You were the one who started it.” Derek said petulantly.

Stiles rolled his eyes and rolled his hips again. Derek pulled quickly away from him and sat on the seat properly. Stiles laughed like the asshole he was at Derek’s shyness. He got up from the couch and stretched. He rolled his shoulder a bit making sure it wouldn’t get sore later.

“So much for the cuddliness.” Stiles spoke.

Derek only glared at him.

“Here,” Stiles went on his knees and in between Derek’s legs. Derek’s eyes opened comically wide. “Let me make it up to you.”

Derek tried to close his legs, “You don’t have to.”

“Yeah I know, but you’re stressed because of Lydia, full moon is tomorrow, and I’m like horny ninety eight percent of the time. Trust me. I want to do this.”

Derek only slumped into the couch, “Fine.”

Stiles eyes narrowed, “You can at least look enthusiastic about this.”

As soon as Stiles said that, Derek reached out with his hand and cupped Stiles’ cheek. He pulled him up into a searing kiss. Stiles moaned loudly. He crawled into Derek’s lap. He would never get tired of this activity, but more important things.

Stiles went back on his knees and with Derek’s help they unbuckled Derek’s pants and underwear and brought them down to his knees. With too much eagerness, Stiles drew Derek out, his hand wrapped around Derek’s very hard, hot length. Ok. He was going to do this. He had fucked up last time, but this time he was going to do this properly. He stroked it a few times, marveling at the way it felt and looked. He wasn’t sure why but it hadn’t been difficult to get used to touching Derek’s dick. He thought he would freak out and overanalyze the situation, ruining the moment. But this it felt nice, his thoughts quieted down a bit, as he focused on the way it felt in his hand, the weight of it. He loved the way Derek shifted, letting out a low breath as he rolled his thumb around the edge of its slick head.

Stiles smirked and then finally leaned in. His tongue played around the rim of Derek’s head. He licked the underside, his lips barely grazing the skin. He opened his mouth a little wider.

Derek hissed and yanked a fistful of Stiles’ hair back, “Watch your teeth.” Derek growled.

Stiles gaped and he felt so much heat pool at his dick. Hair pulling. Was that a thing? Derek pulled a little as Stiles failed to respond. Stiles moaned. Yup, it was a thing.

Derek flushed, when he realized the reaction Stiles was getting.

“No worries,” Stiles panted. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Derek eyed him dubiously but slowly released his hand. Stiles smirked again and leaned down. He took Derek in slowly. Stiles almost broke character as he saw Derek holding back a moan. Stiles wrapped his lips around Derek’s head, then pulled over its rim with a little pop. He went down again, a little too eagerly. And like last time, choked.

“Stiles.” Derek panted.

“No, hold on. I’m gonna figure this out.”

Derek reached out for him with his hand. His thumb jutted out Stiles’ bottom lip. “Breathe through your nose.”

Stiles nodded and took Derek in his mouth again. He placed one hand at the base of Derek. It took him a while to get a hang of the coordination of moving his mouth and wrist where his mouth couldn’t reach. He wanted to try to take Derek deeper, but each time he felt Derek press the back of his throat, Stiles eyes’ watered. So he settled with this. His other hand reached down and fondled Derek’s balls.

Derek’s back arched and he let out a loud moan. Stiles looked up at him. The way his clothes stuck to his body and the way he had his head thrown over the back of the couch was perfect.

Stiles began to suck harder and he couldn’t help but hum around Derek’s dick when he felt Derek lightly tugging at his hair. That was the only warning he got.

Stiles nearly choked again when Derek released in his mouth. Stiles pulled back with a gasp. He was ready to complain, but then he saw Derek’s satiated face.

Yeah, he could live with this.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Stiles tried to stay clear of the girls a week after they had already began planning their dance. Once they had made posters and announced it to the school, the girls had jumped in glee and were already talking about what dresses they wanted to wear, how they were going to do their hair, and all that other girly nonsense. All in all, it was a bit too much for Stiles.

Stiles kept close to Derek as they ate. Lydia’s eyes were filled with mania as she made notes in her detailed journal of Muggle School Formal Guidelines that she had compiled by interviewing Erica. Erica gladly helped the strawberry blonde. Lydia, Erica, and Allison had come to worship the book treating it as if it was some Holy Grail.

Derek had confessed to him he was tempted to steal it to avoid this whole dance, but Lydia always kept it on her person. Plus, Derek’s window for nabbing the book had disappeared seeing as a few days ago, The Head Girl, Lydia, Allison, Erica, and a few of the prefect girls stationed themselves in front of the Great Hall with a giant box and asked people who they would like to see nominated for King and Queen. A lot of the students took it with glee and rushed to write down people’s names.

Today, all the girls in the castle were jumping up and down, waiting for the announcement to be made. The only ones not jumping were Cora, who was arguing with Jackson over the last piece of toast, and Lydia who had her nose in her notebook. She most likely knew already who was going to be nominated and thus was most likely making plans for the dance.

Finally, Finstock came to the owl podium at the front of the Great Hall. The girls squealed. All the boys flinched.

“Hey!” Finstock yelled. “Cut it out or none of you are going to have a dance.”

All the girls shushed themselves in a fit of anticipated giggles.

Finstock sighed, “I can’t believe Alan conned me into doing this. Alright, so here goes. The nominations for the Winter Ball King are as follows: Jackson Whittemore.”

Stiles rolled his eyes as Jackson, who had been pretending he wasn’t interested in this dance, straightened and flaunted like a peacock.

Finstock continued, “Scott McCall, Danny Mahealani.”

The two boys gave startled looks, but quickly blushed and gave dopey grins.

“Liam Dunbar, Brett Talbot, Theo Raeken, Mason Hewitt...what Greenberg? Who the hell nominated Greenberg. Meh, whatever. It’s your kids’ dance. You know, I remember back in my day we used to have our own dances with lots of booze and…” Finstock trailed off awkwardly as Yukimura glared at him. “Right. Don’t drink and fly kids. Uh...oh yeah and the last nominee is Derek Hale.”

The pack went deathly silent as Finstock announced the last nominee. Everyone slowly turned to him. Stiles tried to slink away as he felt Derek’s deathly glare on all of them. Derek’s first instinct was to turn to Lydia.

The small girl rolled her eyes, “I didn’t plan that. You really got nominated by the school so suck it up Hale.”

The werewolf was about to fume but Erica shushed him when Finstock was about to announce the girls. “The nominees for Winter Ball Queen are Lydia Martin.”

Lydia flicked her hair over her shoulder.

“Heather Merlott, Erica Reyes, Allison Argent.”

The three girls squealed loudly. Finstock shouted loudly for them to shut it before continuing, “Malia Tate, Tracy Stewart, Hayden Romero.” Finstock paused and brought the parchment close to his face. “What...that can’t be right.” He turned around and faced Morrell, “I think someone made a typo.” Finstock then groaned as Morrell was enjoying a nice chat with Argent and obviously ignoring him. Finstock rolled his eyes, “Whatever, they don’t pay me enough to fix this so your last two nominees are Stiles Stilinski and Cora Hale.”

The castle went into hysterics, while Stiles sat stiff. His head snapped to his friends as the male sixth years of the pack began to laugh and clap each other in the back.

“You assholes! You nominated me for Queen!” Stiles shrieked, particularly in Scott’s face, who was bent over the table, wiping his tears.

“Might as well be a queen dating our Alpha and all,” Jackson inputted. “It makes sense.”

The girls of the pack all rolled their eyes, “Nice Jackson,” Lydia scolded. “Enforcing useless gender roles, you are hilarious and so clever.”

The boys shrinked at the girls’ glares. They quieted down while the rest of the castle was still laughing.

When Stiles felt Derek’s hand on his thigh in a form of comfort, Stiles sagged in his seat and turned to his right where Cora was sitting, still refusing to move.

“Oh shit,” Stiles spoke abruptly. “You got nominated.”

Cora blinked, “Yup.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah I didn't reply to your comments last time! I've been busy but I want you to know I read all of them and loved each one. I was gonna upload this on Halloween but it's my birthday weekend (nov 3) so I'll be doing other stuff that day. 
> 
> Random Notes:  
> I am now sure you know what the [POLL](http://www.poll-maker.com/poll390160x87374bE3-15) is for. So do your thing. Poll will close on Nov 26. So get to voting!
> 
> Also if you follow me on [TUMBLR](http://twinklingpaopufruit.tumblr.com/) you can see a progress bar of when the next chapter will be posted.
> 
> Tup-The word Harris uses on Morrell is a vulgar term regarding animal sex. He's basically calling their relationship bestiality.
> 
> Uh so yeah! Tell me what you thought of this chapter?


	51. Winter Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pack gets a little too crazy for the Winter Ball.

“Who the fuck nominated me?!” Cora stormed out of the Great Hall after the nominations had been announced. The rest of the girls tailed her. “I’m going to murder them.”

Kira’s face wrinkled as she frowned, “Well technically you were nominated because a large group of people liked you. So there isn’t one specific person you can murder.”

Cora rolled her eyes and snapped her head to Lydia, “Give me the fucking ballots. I’ll murder all of them.”

“I can’t,” She spoke in a bored tone. She flicked her wand. Her notebook hovered at eye level and a quill flew out of her bag to make more detailed notes for the dance. “Morrell and Allison’s dad counted the ballots. They disposed of them already to avoid tampering. But if you want to go on a witch hunt, just make sure not to stain the walls of Hogwarts, after all, we have to prepare the dance. No one wants to be enjoying their meal next to a severed head with a dick in its mouth.”

Cora wondered briefly why Lydia was so aware of her preferred torturing methods. “Anyway...this is stupid. I can’t believe our school is hosting something like this.”

Erica threw her arm over Cora’s shoulder, “Chill Cora. Girls would kill to be in your place. Jessica cried cause she wasn’t nominated.”

“I didn’t want to be nominated. And if Jessica is crying, don’t any of you think that’s a bit pathetic? This dance means nothing. Why are people acting so insane over this?”

Lydia huffed. “Why are you upset that other people are? Their emotions don’t concern you. If a girl wants to blubber about a dance then let her. It doesn’t affect you. And it’s not going to, after all, even if you are nominated you shouldn’t concern yourself with it. Everyone in this castle knows I’m going to win anyway.”

Allison and Erica halted in their steps. Kira paused to see what was happening, while the other two girls took a while to notice.

“What?” Lydia’s voice and face was genuinely curious.

Allison pouted, “I like to think I could put up some competition with you.”

Lydia snorted, “Allison, you’re sweet, but I’ve had the school in my palm since I was eleven. This whole thing is a joke. I only did this because I thought it would be cute if other people thought they had a chance at winning the crown.”

Erica snarled and placed a hand on her hip, “You’re not in charge of the whole school anymore, Lydia. I’m pretty sure I can win. I am after all the muggleborn, I know how to win these things.”

Lydia’s eyes narrowed. Cora saw clearly that Lydia had failed to miscalculate Erica’s knowledge.

“Well, it doesn’t matter. It’s a popularity contest and I’ll win.”

Allison and Erica glared at the Ravenclaw. Kira whined, “C’mon guys. Who cares who wins? I thought this dance was about bringing the school together for the holidays, not about the nominations.”

“We care,” The three girls said in tandem.

Cora rolled her eyes and turned on her heel to begin walking to her next class.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Lydia retorted.

“To a cliff and hopefully jump into another dimension where girls stop caring about such stupidities.”

“It’s not stupid,” Erica exclaimed. “This is serious...at least to us.”

“Ugh,” Lydia examined her nails. “Let her go. Even if she were to try, she wouldn’t win.”

Cora’s mouth opened, completely appalled. She stopped walking and slowly turned to face the girls. “I’m sorry, why wouldn’t I win?”

“Cause it’s you. You probably got nominated because your Gryffindor’s Captain and a pretty good Seeker, but that’s kind of all you got going for you. Your personality is as dry as parchment, you're always murmuring about death threats, and you have this crazy obsession with strawberry chocolate, which is a candy no one actually enjoys, which makes me question your tastes in practically everything.”  

Cora’s lower jaw jutted out. “As opposed to a short skirt and heels and claiming dictatorship over the male population despite your feminist values. News check, Lydia, women having power over men isn’t feminism, that’s misandry. But I wouldn’t expect a girl like you to know that when she’s been in an environment that’s more entitled and privileged than the Ministry.”

Kira, Erica, and Allison sucked in a breath at Cora’s comeback. They looked warily between the girls.

Lydia tilted her head and smiled, “I’m going to tell you once, you really don’t want to start a war with me, Hale.”

Cora’s eyes narrowed, “I think I’ll make my own decisions, thanks.” Cora spun and walked away from the girls. She headed up the stairs, walking to her History of Magic Class. She could feel the other girl’s eyeing her, but Cora didn’t care.

How dare Lydia think so low of her? Yeah, she wasn’t the most popular person in the school, but she had gotten nominated more for the reason than Lydia contended to. Right?

Lydia was so fucking pretentious, anyway. Being surrounded with the pack in such pleasantries made her forget that one _giant_ aspect of the Ravenclaw.

And if Lydia, wanted a war, she was getting one.

When her last class of the day was over, Cora ignored Kira and Lydia. She felt bad for ignoring Kira, since the new addition of their pack had nothing to do with it, so she gave her a kind smile and went to the kitchens to go eat dinner instead of having to look at Lydia’s stupid makeup caked face.

Upon slamming the portrait, Cora saw Derek and Stiles eating a meal together. Stiles exclaimed loudly in surprise while Derek only eyed her carefully.

One of the elves approached her, chattering away and jumping in glee. It’s jubilant nature made Cora a little calmer...but only a little. The elf handed her a plate of food and Cora sat on the ground with her brother and his boyfriend.

“You ok?” Stiles stupidly asked.

“No.” Cora snarled. “What are you two doing in here?”

“Eating,” Derek said obviously. He cut off a piece of his bread and handed it to Ms. Miguel. The mint puff ball squeaked happily.

“I can see that.”

Stiles jumped in, “We are trying to avoid the school and have our peace.”

Cora scoffed. “Whatever.”

Derek snorted, “What has you all worked up?”

“Lydia Martin.” She gave as explanation, which proved to be enough because both of them nodded in understanding.

“Ah,” Stiles said. “Winter Ball nominations.”

“Yeah.”

“Hey at least your supposed friends didn’t convince the entire male population of Hogwarts to vote for you for Queen as a joke.” Stiles said distastefully.

“It’s not like you’re participating,” Derek said to both. “I’m not, this is pointless.”

Cora’s eyes narrowed at her brother, “And what made you assume, I wasn’t participating?” She snapped.

“I thought you wouldn’t want to. Your scent alone about this whole situation explains your feelings pretty well.”

“And what does my scent say?”

“That this is beneath you.”

“It’s not beneath me. I am above it.”

“What’s the difference?” Stiles asked curiously.

“That I’m going to win.”

Stiles snorted loudly. Derek did as well but he tried to hide it beneath his food. Cora’s jaw clenched. She threw her utensils on the ground. “Why are you laughing?”

“Cora, you’re up against Lydia.” Stiles explained.

“So?”

“She’s the most popular girl at school.”

“So?”

“So how are you going to win?”

And _oh_. Cora really hadn’t thought about that. But did it really matter? How hard could it be? Put up a few posters, make a few goodie bags...no that’s what the other girls would do. Cora smiled, “Do what I do best.”

“And what’s that?” Derek said indecorously.

“Be the best Seeker in the school.” She reached for her utensils and plopped a piece of pork in her mouth. The boys seemed confused at her response, but for Cora it made perfect sense. Human interaction worked the same way that sports did. All Cora had to do was find the snitch. As she calmly ate, she made a mental list of who was the golden ball in the school. The easiest answer was Lydia and Jackson, but she was competing against the strawberry blonde and Jackson would take her side. So who did that leave? She thought bigger than Lydia and her mind went to the Hufflepuffs. In the seventh year crowd, Theo and Rhys held the most popularity. All she needed was to snatch one of them.

|~~***~~|

Erica blew a hair out of her face. Her hands were occupied as she tried to put a poster of herself near the Great Hall. She had a stack of posters in between her legs and overall this was turning into an experience that required too much effort. She wished she had been better in charms otherwise she would have had this done half an hour ago.

She suddenly smelled dried parchment, oak, and mint. She didn’t have to turn to see who it was.

“So are you participating in this because you really want to win, or is it because of Lydia, or is it because of your own insecurities?”

“ _Hello Boyd._ You know, if I hadn't been friends with you for so long, I would have hexed you.” She calmly pressed down the last corner of the poster before facing her friend.

“Which is exactly the reason I'm asking, so which is it?” He leaned one shoulder against the wall.

Erica rolled her eyes. She began walking away to find a new place to hang her poster, “All of the above,” She decided to answer.

“Erica,” He chastised.

“What? It’'s not a bad thing that I’m doing this for me as much as I’m doing it for other people.”

“When are you going to stop doing things for others though?”

“There is nothing wrong with doing things for others, Vernon. I like the attention. Attention isn't bad.” She found a good place by the staircase. She thrust a good amount of posters in his arms without asking.

“But it's not attention you should be receiving.”

The poster unfurled and fell to the ground. “How dare you?—”

“—They see a beautiful girl, which frankly you are, but by doing this you aren't letting them see the real you, which is this sweet young woman who's a bit on the manic side when it comes to plants but would do anything for her friends. Now, tell me which makeup stuff on your face tells people that?”

“My dazzling mascara,” She said sarcastically. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and forgot about the poster on the floor.

“Erica, you don’t need to put up a front.”

“You're falsely assuming that what I am now is not really what I am. Which is really rude of you to presume.”

“It’s not.” Boyd said in his usual blunt fashion.

“How do you know? You knew me as the pathetic weak girl before I became what I am now. And what I am now is perfectly happy. The hair, the makeup, the clothes are not tools that mask insecurities.” She sighed trying to find the word, “They are my armor.”

“Which still insinuates you are fighting.”

“I’m not fighting, Vernon. The armor is not a sign of defense...It’s an armor of victory of all the bullshit I’ve overcome. And honestly, I am so offended you would think otherwise. Leave it to men to believe that when a girl puts on a smack of short lived materialism on her person it’s because she lacks self esteem.”

“That’s not what I was saying,” Boyd tried to backtrack.

Erica smelled regret. “Yes, it was. You’re insinuating that I am doing this whole dance thing because of my insecurities, and ok yeah, maybe I am, but I am so disappointed you would reduce me just to that. I am more than my insecurities, I am also powerful, Vernon. And I want to show the world that by going head to head with the girl who has it all.”

“Erica,” Boyd frowned, “You do know that Lydia puts up a front too, right?”

“Well hers is closer to her true personality so people do see her for what she is.”

“Not exactly if you ever talked to Jackson.”

“Jackson talks about Lydia?” She asked getting a little sidetracked.

“Sometimes, but that's not the point. What I means is, I think you are confusing that there has to be this dichotomy between who you are and what you show to others. They aren't mutually exclusive, I’m saying that instead of showing this persona why not show the parts that I only know about you.”

Erica sighed and finally turned away from Boyd. She crouched down to pick up the poster and tried again, “Because it leaves me vulnerable. And that’s not what I want, nobody wants that. And I’m sorry,” She narrowed her eyes, “But you aren’t in a position to tell me what I should want.”

"Fine.” She then smelled resignation. “Do you need help?"

She appreciated Boyd. Despite he carried the persona that his line of reasoning was always the superior one, he did know when to let it go when someone didn’t accept his opinion. "Yeah.” She gave him a corner of the poster, “Here hold this up."

They worked together in silence, moving around the first floor and placing several posters on the wall. Although, the silence was broken when Boyd stated quite bluntly, "So the dance is coming up and I was thinking of asking Kira to be my date."

Erica nearly dropped her poster. "I'm sorry what?"

"I'm thinking of asking Kira to the dance, but I need your opinion."

"Why do you need my opinion for?" Erica rolled up the poster and placed it in her bag. This matter required her full attention.

"On whether I should ask her."

"Why are you asking me in the first place?” Erica crossed her arms over her chest and felt a flush rise in her cheeks, whether in embarrassment or indignation she had yet to decide.

"Well you and the other girls got nominated and Kira didn't."

"So? She's new. None of the other foreign exchange students got nominated."

"Which is my point.” Boyd leaned against the wall, “She's new and that means she probably won't get asked to the dance."

"Are you going to the dance with her for her or for you." Yup, indignation was sure winning now.

"Both. Plus, I like her."

Erica felt her world crashing. She knew that her crush wasn’t reciprocated, but she didn’t think fully on what that unrequited affection would lead to. Obviously, Boyd would grow to love someone else. "You do?" She choked out.

"Yeah, she's sweet. But I want your opinion, should I?"

Erica turned away with the intention of heading back to the Great Hall. "I think you should go to the dance with someone you really like instead of it being out of pity."

Boyd was silent as he followed after her. They ended up at the staircase again. "I'm not doing it out of pity. And there's no one I like at the moment to take to the dance in that way."

"Oh." Erica said, closing herself off.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Erica, I can smell something is wrong."

Erica took a chance and sucked it up. "Well, I thought you would have asked me."

"Why?" Erica rolled her eyes and tried to walk away again. He grasped her arm. "Erica. I just thought you would have a line of stupid guys wanting to go out with you and you would have preferred that instead of going with your friend."

She swallowed a lump and said, "I do have a line of stupid boys."

"Then?"

"I wanted to go with a _friend._ "

"Oh. Well we can go together if you want."

"Nope.” She shook her hair, “You missed your chance Vernon," Erica tried to laugh, "And you are asking out our cute little vixen instead."

Boyd’s eyes narrowed and this time she smelled a flurry of scents come from him. First him being upset, then confusion, then being upset again. But this scent was different than his usual troubled one...it was entangled with...jealousy? Why was he suddenly jealous? And why was he upset about this jealousy? "So who are you going out with?” He retorted as rudely as Boyd would allow, which actually was a lot more emotion than Erica was accustomed to seeing on his face.

But, if Boyd was going out with Kira, then she would roll with his. Erica hummed in thought. She saw Allison coming down the stairs.

Erica beamed. "Allison? Do you want to be my date for the school dance?" She shouted loudly. Several students turned toward them.

The girl smiled brightly. "Um sure? Sounds like fun."

Erica grinned in Boyd's direction. "See date. Now it's your turn. I want all the details on how Kira panicked."

The scent became neutral again. "Ugh. You are ridiculous."

"I'm awesome—” She began but then “Holy shit! Is that Cora?"

For once in her life, Cora was wearing the school issued skirts. Cora abhorred them mainly because she said it restricted her movements, but why was she wearing one now? And _damn_ —her best friend had a nice pair of legs and hips. Which apparently, several boys were noticing as well because Cora was surrounded by a large group of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs.

But the one Cora was speaking brightly with was Theo Raeken, Hufflepuff’s Captain, at the top of the stairs.

Why was Cora talking to him?

Erica grabbed Boyd and tried to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“So you're actually cool with a joint practice?” Cora smiled. And wow, Erica had never seen her friend smile so genuinely and with so much teeth.

“Yeah that’s a great idea. Don’t you think Rhys?”

The kind Hufflepuff nodded. “Completely, we’ve been talking about doing joint practices with the other Houses for years, but Theo said no one would agree. Is McCall cool with it?”

“I’m usually in charge for scheduling practice and Scott is ok with mostly everything and I’m sure the others wouldn’t mind.”

“Perfect.” Theo grinned. “So Monday evening practice sound good?”

Cora nodded. “Yeah that gives me time to talk to Scott about it.”

“Good, I’ll see you then.” Theo patted her shoulder and began to walk down the steps with Rhys.

Erica watched with much intrigue as Cora called out to Theo. She chased him down a few steps.

“Actually I was wondering if you could do me one more favor?” Theo’s brow rose so Cora continued. Erica snorted as she saw Cora act bashfully, “The dance is coming up and I don’t have a date—”

“Aren’t you with that Sean kid from Gryffindor?”

“Huh?”

“I saw you two on a date back on Valentine’s.”

“Oh...yeah that was a date, but he’s not really my type.”

Theo grinned handsomely, “And I’m your type?”

Cora rolled her eyes and Erica was impressed that she was able to make the expression coy instead of annoyed. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“What, am I not attractive?”

“Oh, that’s even farther.”

Rhys snorted behind Theo and Theo shot him a nasty look. Theo turned back to Cora, “Oh you are definitely wooing me to say yes.”

Cora grinned, “So that is a yes?”

Erica saw Theo clench his jaw to avoid laughing. He nodded enthusiastically, “Yeah, that’s a definite yes.”

Cora laughed, “Great. I was a little worried you would say no.”

“Well, I admire a girl who can come up and ask me out instead of being the other way around.”

Rhys scoffed, “Didn't you get asked to dance three times last night?”

“Yeah, but every girl turned into a giggling squealing mess before they could ask me anything.” He smiled softly at Cora, “You’ve kind of been the only sane one to ask me.”

“You look for sanity in a girl, that’s smart.”  Cora said.

“Well that’s not the only thing, a girl with nice eyes and a smile does it for me too.”

Erica giggled to Boyd as she watched Cora blush. Oh, there was the girly girl in her friend.

Cora brushed hair behind her ear, “Thanks.”

Theo shrugged, “It’s not that hard to give someone like you compliments. Anyway, what color is your dress?”

“Why?”

“Cause you’re my date and it would be cool if we could match.”

“Oh...um, it’s a black gold thing.”

“Black, got it.” He placed his hand on her shoulder again and squeezed it comfortingly, “I’ll see you around. Oh, wait. You're nominated for Queen, right?”

“Yeah, but I don’t think I’m running.”

“Why not?”

“Cause I don’t think I’ll win.” Erica could smell the lie from the bottom of the steps.

“What? But you’re pretty cool. Hey, I’ll convince the Hufflepuff boys to vote for you.”

Rhys smacked Theo, “Hey you're just doing that so you two can be crowned King and Queen together.”

Cora smiled, “And that’s a problem?”

Theo gasped in surprise, “Oh, I like you. Don’t worry Cora, I’ll get the boys to vote for you.”

Cora nodded and watched him head into the Great Hall.

As soon as he left, Erica marched up the stairs already shouting, “I am so proud of you!”

“What?” Cora asked without any emotion.

“Asking one of the hottest boys in school and getting votes.”

“Aren’t you upset that I got the Hufflepuff vote?”

“Hell no, I am impressed.”

Cora shoved her friend as Erica went in for a hug.

_“I’m not impressed.”_

The girls turned around and saw Derek with his arms crossed.

“What do you want Derek?” Cora mirrored his posture.

“You asked my roommate out to the dance?”

“Yeah.”

Derek sighed, “Fucking Theo.” Derek left the two girls and went into the Great Hall.

Erica and Cora grinned.

|~~***~~|

“The girls are getting scary,” Scott commented idly to the the boys as he flipped through a fashion magazine.

There was a general murmur of agreement from the others. The pack boys, minus Derek (who was in a study session with Theo, which was just bullshit because everyone knew Derek was trying to see what Theo’s intentions were with his sister), rested in the Slytherin dormitories. Jackson had expressed his disdain for the empty space in their room and how it was not being utilized to its full potential. The next day Jackson and Danny decided to buy a beautiful handcrafted leather couch and place it in the empty space.

Stiles had become upset that they did not consult him and complained of how ugly the couch was for the rest of the day. The following day, Stiles had purchased a few couches and beanbags (the same color as the leather couch—he didn’t want Jackson to fume at him) and littered them in the available space.

Currently, Isaac and Scott sat on the beanbags while Danny and Boyd took the loveseat. Jackson and Stiles commanded the largest leather couch. Jackson slouched in the seat, looking over a fashion magazine, while Stiles’ head was resting in his lap. Stiles was making notes in his Moonwalker book, oblivious to everything around him. No one was brave enough to make a comment about their position. Although, Danny was contemplating rising from his seat to fetch his camera and take a picture. Lydia would love it as a Christmas gift.

“I don’t know why they can’t be more like us.” Jackson replied. He folded a page of the magazine. All of them were looking for robes for the dance, Stiles had been excused from such activities because apparently Jackson was in charge. Stiles didn’t care. It meant less work anyway.

Danny rolled his eyes, “Seriously? You tried to blackmail Brett an hour ago to drop out of the nominations.”

“We’re Slytherins, it’s different for us. What do you think of this one?” He showed Danny a picture of a navy blue robe.

“The collar is too high for your too short neck, you’ll look like a mandrake.”

Jackson flipped him off. “Anyway, it’s not like we are out there sabotaging each other’s posters like the girls are. We’re just lowkey working behind each other’s back. And it’s not so bad considering the only guys actually running are me of course, Brett, Greenberg, and fucking Theo.”

“What do you got against Theo?” Isaac asked, defensive of his Quidditch Captain.

“Nothing, I just really don’t like him.”

“You’re the only person who does,” Boyd commented.

“And Derek,” Scott spoke up. “Although, I think that has to do with the fact that Cora is going out with him for the dance.”

“Cora is using him to win for Queen, which good for her,” Jackson controlled the conversation as he usually liked to do, “But back to Theo, the girls think he’s hot shit and the guys think he’s like their best friend. I just think he’s a backstabbing Hufflepuff. He works hard and is nice but he has the mind of a snake, I’m surprised he’s not in Slytherin.”

“Cause he cares about everyone,” Boyd answered. “Not just his small group of friends. Also he’s not very pretentious.”

“Whatever.” Jackson scoffed.

“You’re just a closed minded asshole.” Stiles inputted.

Jackson rolled up his magazine and hit Stiles’ forehead. Stiles’ nose scrunched, but he didn’t move.

“Don’t hit him,” Scott reprimanded Jackson. “He’s right you are an asshole, you admitted it last week over dinner.”

“I admitted I was a fashionable asshole, there is a difference.”

“Yeah, the fashionable one is harder to ignore.” Danny said. The other boys laughed.

Jackson rolled his eyes. “Fuck all of you.” He slumped back in his seat and flipped through the magazine.  

Stiles yawned and placed his Moonwalker book over his head. “ _I_ just want the thing to be over with. If I could have my way with it, I would remove this stupid competition.”

“You’re just complaining because Derek has to attend twice the amount of prefect meetings instead of hanging out with you,” Scott told his friend.

“No duh.”

“That’s the only good thing to come out of this dance,” Boyd said. “It’s stopped you two from sucking face every ten minutes.”

“At least, I was getting some unlike some people,” Stiles shot back. “Derek can do some amazing things with his—”

“Stiles, if you finish that sentence, I’m going to knee your head,” Jackson threatened.

Stiles groaned and then sat up.

“You know, if Derek was running,” Isaac interrupted, “He would kick Jackson’s ass in this competition.”

“Except he’s not,” Jackson smiled sardonically.

“But he is nominated,” Boyd said casually. “His name will still be on the ballot and people can still vote for him at the dance.”

“He’s not going to win,” Jackson snorted. “You need a solid campaign if you want the title.”

“Wrong.” Boys sighed. “Grogan Stump, Minister of Magic, from 1811 to 1819 ran for office but had no official campaign, he ended up beating Artemisia Lufkin and Josephina Flint. So in all practicality, Derek has an equal chance of winning as all of you.”

“Right!” Isaac grinned. “And he’ll even have a better chance of winning if we are his campaign managers.”

“We?” Boys grunted.

“I’ll buy you dinner for the next Hogsmeade trip.”

Boyd shrugged and then flipped another page of the magazine, “Yeah, ok.”

Jackson was not amused, “What? You gonna wave banners all around the castle proclaiming how great Derek is?”

“If it gets him to win, why not?”

Jackson laughed, “Next thing you know you are going to announce that Danny and McCall here have a chance.”

Danny and Scott glared at the pretentious Slytherin.

“Don’t take it there,” Danny warned. “No one wants to run against the wizard who can open every lock.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That I can dig up all the dirt on you and have you lose the crown to me.” Danny smirked.

Scott snorted, “And yeah! I have Gryffindor on my side, I bet I can win.”

“Sorry boys, but Heather, Allison, and Cora have the Gryffindor vote split between them. You’ll be lucky to get anything.”

Danny narrowed his eyes, “Hey Scott, what do you say we narrow down the competition to just us and see who wins?”

“What do you mean?”

“I say, you be my date for the dance and we’ll have the entire female population in our hands.”

Everyone turned to Scott. It was no news that Scott and Danny were the only ones without dates for the dance. Jackson obviously going with Lydia, Boyd with Kira, Isaac with Heather, Stiles and Derek, and now apparently, Danny was putting his Slytherin qualities to use to win over the crazy hearts of the girls in the castle.

Scott did not even mull it over, “Yeah. I’ll be your date.”

“Oh no!” Isaac whined. “You guys want to play the sweet gay couple card! That’s low. But if you are doing that then I’ll play the Derek and Stiles card.”

“Hey!” Stiles whined, who had been staying out the conversation so far.

“Shut up, you have no say in this” Boyd interrupted so Isaac could continue.

“Derek and Stiles are a couple and King and Queen, I’m sure everyone would want to vote for that.”

“No, Stiles would not!” Stiles tried to protest. But it went ignored, as all the boys in the room began to plan on how they were going to win this.

Dear Merlin, please let the dance be over.

|~~***~~|

“So Isaac then bag boogeyed hexed Scott in the middle of class and you can imagine the annoying ruckus caused after that,” Stiles told Morrell over tea.

The woman fought the urge to smile. She turned in her seat to look out the window. Flakes of snow fell calmly along the castle grounds. It was perfect weather to stay indoors and sip some tea.

Stiles sighed and looked outside as well, his eyes falling to an owl that looked a lot like Posey.

Despite training was over with his professor, he enjoyed her company immensely and regularly came to her office during lunch to have long chats with her. Usually, it was Stiles talking about his day and all the nonsense he was causing in the school, sometimes it ventured into his training, his nightmares, and what he thought of Blake’s warning.

Sometimes, Morrell opened up and spoke of her aggravations of being unable to find Peter and just once, she briefly mentioned how the snow back in the Deucalion Manor fell like stars in the woods.

Stiles knew she did not mean to voice her thoughts aloud at that moment, so he pretended he hadn’t heard.

Today though, Stiles was expressing his anger at the stupidity of his friends for the dance.

The girls were shouting nasty remarks left and right, sabotaging goodies and posters. Although, the boys were a lot crazier. Isaac and Boyd became a two-man army to get Derek to win for King. Scott and Danny were milking their recent friendship to get the girls to vote for them. Jackson was acting like the world was out to get him and using every Slytherin wit to his advantage.

Stiles just wanted everything to be over.

Morrell seemed to enjoy his stories, so he kept them coming though.

“What about you?”

“Huh?”

“Aren’t you nominated? Shouldn’t you be participating?”

“Ugh...the guys nominated me for Queen.”

“Yes, I recall.”

Stiles gaped, when he saw her eyes brighten, “You’re amused by it!” He accused.

“I’ll admit, Chris Argent and I had a laugh about it.”

“You’re a terrible professor.”

“The staff is not so different from the student body, Stiles. We gossip as much as you do. You should see the gossip Bobby engages in. Sometimes I wish he would keep those moments to himself.”

Stiles snorted. “Well regardless, I’m not participating and neither is Derek, despite Isaac and Boyd are campaigning for him.”

“I think it’s sweet and this whole dance is expressing how much unity our school has.”

“Are you kidding? The school is in chaos.”

“If you’ve been paying attention though, you see an intermingle. Hufflepuffs voting for Gryffindors, Slytherins voting for Ravenclaws. You don’t see that much inter-House unity outside of this dance. Erica’s plan to bring the school together was a lovely idea.”

“I guess, still doesn’t erase the fact that Jackson tried to spread a rumor that Theo fucked a Hippogriff. Oh sorry, language.”

“Oh so that’s where that started.” She smiled.

Stiles snorted and then leaned back. A comfortable silence settled between them. Stiles took the time to look around her office. Lydia had mentioned once that she found Morrell’s office strange. Stiles never bothered to pay any attention until now. But there was something odd, nothing of her office felt like it belonged to Morrell. It looked like a guest office. There were no personalized chairs or portraits. No single picture. The only thing that Stiles could see that did belong to her was an intricate vase with caricatures of wolves and ravens over the fireplace, which probably contained floo powder.

Stiles was a little sad about it, it was as if she never moved into Hogwarts. He wondered if it had anything to do with losing her pack. She lost her home and had yet to find a new one.

He wanted to ask, but she rarely brought up Deucalion to begin with. Stiles didn’t want to place pressure on her. Although he was curious how her pack had perished.

Before he could even thinking of asking, the bell rang.

“I’ll see you around professor.” Stiles spoke, rising from his seat.

“Of course.” She smiled.

Stiles spared her one final look before heading to Potions and then was hit with a sudden thought, “Oh about Derek’s birthday gift, are you sure it’s not too much trouble?”  

“No, I’ll have the supplies ready for you in two days.”

“Great. See you later, I guess.”

|~~***~~|

Kira was upset.

It took _a lot_ to get her physically upset.

She usually rode out a storm until it passed rather than facing it head on. But this time, Kira knew that was not going to be enough. She was exasperated with the way the girls were behaving. She had caught Allison sneaking a hair color changing potion on Lydia during dinner two nights ago, and Lydia had called murderous war on Allison when Lydia’s hair had turned a sea green blue. The girl had to wait for the hair color to fade and at the moment it was a strange purple.

From there, Kira understood she had to stop the madness otherwise no one would.

She had called a girl meeting in the Room.

The Room looked vastly different from when she had last been in here though. She had no idea the Room could change, but she followed Boyd’s directions perfectly.  Walk in front of the wall three times and think about what you want.

The Room provided her with a large room that had more space than the cozy living room she had seen the few times she had been in there.

There was a small low table in the middle of the room with four comfortable cushions. The room had paneled walls which made light come smoothly into the room. The girls, minus Lydia took a moment to look around the room. Lydia merely went to go sit on one of the cushions and eyed Kira carefully.

“So?”

Kira lost her bravado, when the rest of the girls sat down in front of her. “...So…”

Lydia’s brow rose expectantly.

“I...um..” _Crap._ Kira did not rehearse how she was going to say this. She thought it would be simple, but she was lacking in experience for social interaction to say anything. She glanced down at her black boots. Biting her bottom lip, she played with her hands in front of her. “I just want you to…”

“To what?” Allison asked softly.

Kira took a deep breath, “To stop...fighting?”

Erica, Allison, and Lydia laughed abruptly. Cora hid her snigger behind her hand.

“What?” Kira blurted out, a tad offended.

“We aren’t fighting.” Erica informed her.

“But you guys have been shouting at each other this whole month!”

Erica leaned on the table, “It’s how we are. We’re just a little competitive, but we wouldn’t call it fighting.”

“Right,” Allison agreed. “If this was a serious fight, I would have changed Lydia’s hair an unflattering color, except I chose one that suited her well.”

“I would have pushed Lydia down the stairs.” Cora said calmly.

Lydia grimaced.

“But! You were so upset that Lydia said you wouldn’t win.” Kira’s voice rose a little.

“For a bit. It kind of tipped over after a few days,” Cora laid down, her arms folded behind her head. “I kind of just started sabotaging her stuff out of boredom than general hate.”

Lydia nodded, “Same. It’s a bit of a reflex just to proclaim I’m the best, but it doesn’t mean I don’t think there’s a selective few people who are as good as me.”

Kira sighed, “What?”

Lydia smiled and then cooed, “Oh Kira. You are adorable to think we were fighting.”

“Well any sane person, would have thought so.” She tried to defend. She finally sat at the table with the other girls.

Erica nudged her, “Well as your friends, we are going to teach you better.”

Kira blushed as the other girls agreed. “So? Does this mean you are going to stop your…” Kira tried to find a word for it, “Competitiveness?”

The girls glanced at each other, wondering whether they should cave or not.

“I would rather have one of us win that having Heather.” Erica snarled.

“True.” Lydia remarked.

“Why don’t we decide who wins?” Cora asked, “Saves us the trouble.”

“Or?” Allison spoke softly. “We rig the vote.”

“Yeah.” Kira chuckled first. The girls turned to her in surprise. “What?”

“Surprised you would agree so quickly.” Lydia scanned her up and down. Kira was slowly getting used to that intense stare.

“It’s not a bad idea. I know an Asian based spell that can do just that.”

The other girls grinned.

|~~***~~|

Late in the afternoon, all the girls were in the Room preparing for the ball, minus Cora, who was informed by Theo he would be picking her up in the Gryffindor Tower. The girls had their dresses hanging perfectly on the wall, waiting to be worn as they applied their make-up and did their hair.

Erica, for once, was not running amuck causing mayhem. Instead, she hummed as she got her outfit together, swaying her hips. Obviously, the fact that Kira was going with Boyd to the Ball was forgiven, it still didn’t mean that Kira and Allison did not find it strange. Lydia could only roll her eyes and continued applying brown eyeliner along her lower lash line.

The two girls went back to curling their hair when Erica began applying lip gloss.

“I hope our plan works,” Allison said glancing in the mirror.

“It better. The only girl behind all of us was Heather and I’m not giving that up for her.”

“What do you got against Heather?” Allison asked Erica.

“Because she’s using her womanly charms on Isaac to get him to spill Hufflepuff Quidditch practices and strategies. I mean why else would she go out with him for this Winter Ball?”

“Cause she likes him?” Kira inputted.

“No.” Erica denied.

“Anyway, our plan will work,” Lydia assured. “I practically threatened everyone to play along too.”

“Do threats always come easily to you?” Kira questioned.

“Yup. Would you like me to teach you?”

Kira thought it over. “Sure?”

Lydia smirked, “Perfect. Do you need help with your eyeliner?” She asked when she saw the girl struggling.

Kira nodded and handed her the stick.

“There’s no need to be nervous,” Lydia assured her. “Boyd asked you out as a friend and Erica is cool with it, right?”

Erica hummed in agreement.

“Why haven’t you pursued anything with him?” Kira asked the blonde.

“Cause she’s a coward.” Lydia answered. Erica shot her a glare and flipped her the bird.

Allison interrupted kindly, “And Boyd’s not very observant for that kind of thing. But no problem, cause we can have fun without any boys.”

Erica grinned, remembering she had a date with Allison. “Right, also we should hurry up to set up final arrangements for the dance.”

Lydia nodded.  

|~~***~~|

Stiles prepped himself in the Slytherin dorms along with Jackson and Danny. Staring at his reflection in a full length mirror, he was clad in his dark blue robes. Adjusting the collar of the dress shirt, he reached over to the solid silk black bowtie, hanging over the mirror’s edge. Wrapping it around his neck, like his father showed him, he tied the knot.

He heard a whistle. “Looking good there, Stiles,” Danny grinned, leaning against one of the bed posts.

“Oh sod off, Danny.” Stiles felt particularly self-conscious wearing this get up. He was always felt like he was pretending to be a pureblood’s successful son.

“I’m being serious, Derek will love it.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and looked at Danny’s appearance. The other man looked dashing in his plain light grey robes. Still, even in his perfect attire, Stiles frowned. “Not matching with Scott?”

Danny shrugged, “That’s a bit cliche.”

Stiles laughed and went to sit on Danny’s bed. He glanced at the bathroom, where Jackson was still getting ready.

Danny sighed, “I’ll go get him.”

Stiles laughed as he watched Danny drag Jackson by the arm. The other was wearing  pretentious black and gold patterned dress robes. Yet, they were very fitting on his Slytherin dormmate. Jackson huffed and fluttered like a bird.

“Ok,” Jackson declared. “Lydia wants us at the Great Hall.”

“What?” Stiles complained. “I’m not even a prefect.”

“Do you really think Lydia cares?”

Stiles groaned, and set off upstairs to Great Hall. At the top of the staircase, Danny left them to go pick up Scott for his date.

The two waved him off.

|~~***~~|

Cora pulled down her dress awkwardly.

“You look lovely, Cora,” Heather announced behind her as Cora examined herself in the mirror. Cora took a deep breath and turned around and looked at Heather’s tight red dress. The color suited her.

“I’m just nervous.”

“Yeah, I would be too snagging the best-looking guy in Hogwarts,” Danielle announced, fixing the straps of her purple dress. “Great job by the way.”

Cora smiled weakly. “Well I better go. He should be outside the portrait by now.”

The girls nodded and finished getting ready before their own dates arrived.

Cora walked down the stairs and examined the common room. There was a sea of different colors and it looked quite amazing. She greeted a few of her classmates who nearly tripped over themselves as they took in her appearance. It made Cora walk a little faster in her heels. Yes, heels. Laura would be giddy with the sight. Even more so, that she had chosen this dress on her own. It wasn’t overly bright like several of the girls in the common room, but it was beautiful at least to Cora. It was a black dress with intricate gold pieced beads sewn into the top layer. When Cora had laid eyes on it, she was hit with the realization of why Laura, Erica, and Lydia took fashion so seriously. There was an art form to it that Cora had never appreciated before.

She had planned only to wear the dress with simple black heels, but when Heather saw her she demanded she put on accessories. Her hair had been combed and let down, framing her pale face and dark eyes beautifully. Resting on her head was a golden headband, courtesy of Heather. Her earrings hung down to her neck and they jingled each time she took a step.

She cringed at the noise when she pushed the portrait. Theo was waiting for Cora right outside.

He looked very handsome indeed, in robes of black with gold trimming and buttons. He had matched her perfectly.  

“You look beautiful,” Theo complimented.

“Thank you.” Cora said awkwardly.

“I got you something.”

Cora’s eyes scrunched in confusion as he pulled out a corsage of red flowers. “I know wizards don’t do this. It’s kind of a muggle thing, but I was raised in a muggle home and girls tend—”

“I know what it is.”

“Awesome, because most witches wouldn’t want to wear a pair of flowers on their wrist.” He opened the box and began fluffling the flowers. “I know you were going to wear a black and gold dress, but I bought you a red one,” He slipped the corsage on her wrist, “Cause I thought you would look cool like an ember. Since you are kind of a spark on a broom.” She looked down at the flowers. “And I charmed the flowers to do this.” He yanked one of the petals and Cora gasped loudly.

Everything zoned into that point. She took several steps back, slamming into the wall as she tried to yank the burning flowers off her wrist. She pulled it off and flung it to the ground, breathing harshly.

Cora felt something in her begin to break and her chest constrict. _Oh._ So this was what Stiles felt during a panic attack.

“Hey, hey!” Theo jumped in front of her, blocking her vision from the burning flowers on the ground. “It’s not real.”

Cora couldn’t concentrate. She shut her eyes tightly, wishing for someone in her pack to come find her. But they were too far away to take note of her panic.

Theo disappeared from her sight and she fretted that Theo was just going to leave her there alone. But to her surprise, Theo went over to the flowers. He picked them up and rushed to her. Cora pressed herself into the wall.

“It’s fake.” Theo grabbed her hand and forced her to touch the flowers. Cora’s breath caught in her throat. She felt nothing. It wasn’t warm or cold. They were just lights imitating flame. Her breath calmed down and she felt incredibly stupid.

“I’m sorry,” Theo spoke softly. He lowered the flower. “I don’t know much about your family, but I know the gist of it from the papers. I should have thought about this more carefully. We can throw it away, you can throw it away if it makes you feel better.”

Cora shook her head. Feeling the restrained weak girl shatter, she grabbed Theo’s hand. “No, I’ll wear it. My brother said, fire can’t hurt me.”

“You sure?”

She licked her lips and then thought better of it, “Actually...can I charm it do something else?”

“Yeah, anything.”

Cora bent down and lifted the hem of her dress. She had worn an ankle wand holder just in case. She pulled out her wand and pointed it at the flower. The two of them watched the flame harden and instead turn into red ice in the shape of flowers.

“That was cool.” Theo complimented.

Cora rolled her eyes and placed the corsage back on her wrist.

“It looks better now,” Cora said.

Theo scoffed, “Hey, I tried.”

“You did,” Cora felt a little life returning back into her. “Now, c’mon. Lydia Martin awaits all prefect’s presence.”

“God save us from the queen.”

“Isn’t it God save the queen?”

“I know what I said.”

Cora laughed.

|~~***~~|

The entrance hall was packed with students, all milling around waiting for eight o’clock, when the doors to the Great Hall would open. Those people who were meeting partners from different Houses were edging through the crowd trying to find one another. Jackson and Stiles pushed their way through and snuck inside to help Lydia with the last minute preparations.

Inside the Great Hall, everything had been transformed. Everything was covered in silver frost. Long tables were set along the perimeters of the room, that were currently being occupied with desserts, punch and more snack foods. The bar, for the older students and the staff displayed large frozen coolers filled with cans and bottles of alcohol, and the rest of the bar with wine and liquor bottles. The dance floor was covered in a shimmering layer of what looked like ice and beside it were several round tables where students could rest and enjoy their food.

Stiles caught Derek levitating glasses onto the tables. Stiles smiled and his jaw dropped.

Derek wasn’t wearing anything fancy or spectacular. He still looked like Derek. The black plain velvet robes hung perfectly on him. It made him look attractive but that’s not what caught Stiles’ attention. It was the way he stood confidently in the center of the hall while speaking with Lydia with a small smile on his face. Long gone was the Derek who would have preferred to sulk in his room than come to the dance.

There was no mystery of why the I love you, a few weeks prior had slipped so easily from Stiles’ lips.

He approached slowly with Jackson.

Derek and Lydia saw them. Derek grinned and placed the last cup on the table. Lydia rushed toward them in her scarily high heels. Lydia looked as beautiful as ever. She looked almost like an angel in her short white dress. Stiles knew this must have cost thousands of galleons by the intricately sewn by hand lace on every inch of the dress.

Stiles saw something in Jackson soften as Lydia twirled in front of them. Her white cape that hung to her knees, twirled with her. Stiles then witnessed a side of Jackson he rarely saw. Jackson genuinely smiled and caught Lydia by the wrist, taunting her fondly to quit showing off and compliment him.

Lydia laughed and shoved him.

She took a breath and directed Jackson to go help Allison by the bar.

Lydia turned to him, “Great, I need your help with a Transfiguration spell.”

Stiles chuckled, “Couldn’t the Great Lydia manage by herself?”

“Shut up.” She spat. She pointed overhead. “I can’t get the balls of ice to transfigure properly into different snowflakes. When I do, they come out lopsided. I have the spell and wand movement somewhere.” She glanced around the room. She sighed and with her wand, _“Accio spellbook.”_ The book flew from under a table and into Lydia’s hands like an obedient puppy. She flipped through the pages, “And this one.”

Stiles took the book from her reading over the complicated spell. He hadn’t tried a difficult spell like this in a while. He took a step back and looked overhead. It required a bit of visualization and Stiles knew he lacked in it from his training sessions with Kira. Although he had managed a successful mountain ash ring once, two nights ago. He shut the book and Derek took it from him.

Stiles took out his wand and curved his wrist into the right movements as he said the spell.

The lopsided snowflakes shook like an irritated duck for a few seconds but the ice complied and then four large different snowflakes floated above the Great Hall.

Lydia grinned and tapped him on the shoulder as thanks. She went to a different station.

“Good job,” Derek said.

Stiles smiled, “Thanks.” He looked at Derek and gave into the urge to give him a kiss. Derek smiled and leaned into the chaste gesture.

“Oi!” Boyd shouted loudly. “We’re about to open the doors!”

Derek and Stiles pulled back and walked to the front of the Great Hall, where the staff table usually stood.

Stiles waited beside a large stage with the pack and other prefects. Lydia was on the stage with the Head Girl drilling her on the speech. Derek climbed the stairs to listen and put his foot down if the need arose.

Stiles looked at all his friends.

Scott was in a nice tailored charcoal dress robe, which his mother probably helped him pick out. Boyd was in a nice white one, which made him seem very regal. Isaac was in flower printed dress robe which should have made him look ridiculous, but actually suited him nicely. Allison was wearing a beautiful yellow laced dress with a sharp cut down her back. Erica was in a very sexy and classy grey laced dress. And Kira was wearing a blue and yellow geometrical patterned dress with the hem cutting off into black lace.

His eyes landed on Cora.

“Fuck Cora!” Stiles exclaimed. “You look amazing.”

“Duh. I do know how to dress myself.”

Stiles scoffed and shoved her. She shoved him back harder. He collided with Theo.

“Hey! No damaging your date.” Theo complained.

Stiles snickered as Cora apologized.

Stiles went over to Scott and leaned against him, waiting for the dance to start.

Luckily it wasn’t that long, the doors opened exactly at eight and the students piled in each taking their seats.

The pack and the prefects went to their own tables as well. The tables were lit with lanterns and each one fitted about eight people. Stiles, Scott, Danny, Lydia, Jackson, Erica, and Allison sat together at one table. Cora, Theo, Isaac, Heather, Kira, and Boyd sat another with a group of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws.

The Head Boy and Head Girl waited patiently at the stage. The Head Girl quickly announced her speech, while Derek hovered behind her. The girl thanked the staff for letting them organize the dance, she gave special thanks to Lydia’s mother for helping sponsor the dance, thanked all the prefects and other students who helped put everything together, and the elves for the generous preparation of the feast. She then announced that in the back of the hall students were to vote for King and Queen and while they waited in line to vote, students could take their pictures with the professional photographer in the back. Shen then went into the strict rules that minors were not allowed to order drinks and there would be no funny business at the dance. She concluded her speech with another thanks and for everyone to enjoy their evening.

The student body clapped as the Head Boy and Girl made it off the stage.

Stiles smiled and moved over the seat he had saved for Derek.

They looked over the menus on their golden plates. Stiles looked over the selection and called, “Steak!”

Steak appeared on his plate with a few sides. Stiles grinned and dug in. The table settled in idle conversation over dinner. While Derek was glaring at Theo in the table beside them, Stiles looked around the room. He spotted the staff table and he smiled as he saw a large smile on Morrell’s face as she spoke to Chris Argent.

Stiles took the time to admire his professor in the elegant attire. It was a dark blue silk dress with beads of glitter spread around it. The design was very fitting though on her, it was a forest of trees and flowers, with birds flying about it. Stiles thought she looked very lovely and deserved to be happy.

When all the food had been consumed, it was Deaton who stood up in dark purple velvet robes. His voice was set to echo in the hall.

“To the students, because the staff and I saw how hard you were all working for the dance. We prepared a treat.”

A deafening scream broke Stiles’ ear drums as the students saw at the stage the Felix Felicis Fellers. People shouted for the band as they dragged their instruments onto the stage. Students rushed out of their seats and to the dance floor as the band began to play.

Stiles laughed as he sat back and watched a few of his friends rush up to the dance floor. Kira was doing her best not to trip over Boyd’s feet, but in Kira’s defense, Boyd was doing a bad job on leading her. Lydia and Jackson accustomed to dancing for parties were moving as graceful as ever. Allison and Erica however, were dancing so strangely that people around them were backing away in fear of injury.

“Do you want to dance?” Danny asked Scott, polite as ever.

Scott shrugged and the two went.

Stiles knew Derek wouldn’t want to dance, so he rested comfortably with Derek as they chatted randomly glancing at their friends.

“You can go dance you know,” Derek told him after a few minutes as he saw Stiles foot beating rhythmically to the music.

“Is that ok?” Stiles asked, even though he was already standing.

“Yeah, I’ll go talk to Rhys.” Derek said.

Stiles smiled and pecked him quickly on the lips before jumping over toward Scott and Danny.

The group danced for a long time. Stiles was surprised Cora was dancing with Theo and without any struggle agreed to dance with Stiles and Scott for a few songs. Stiles at the moment was twirling Allison and Erica sporadically and the two girls were shouting in glee. Stiles laughed with them and when the next song hit, Stiles was losing breath and left the dance floor to get something to drink.

He went over to the bar to get some water and saw Morrell calmly sipping some wine by herself as she looked over the proceedings.

“Hello professor,” Stiles smiled, standing beside her. He got a drink for himself.

“Hello Stiles. Enjoying yourself?”

“Yeah. This ended up being a great idea.”

“I’m glad.”

Stiles nodded, “Oh about Derek’s gift?”

“I told you already, I don’t mind delivering it to your house.”

“Are you sure?”

“Do you believe you can carry and hide that from Derek on the train?”

“No.”

“Then you will see it at your home upon your arrival.”

“Cool. I’m hoping everything turns out ok.” Stiles sighed and then he saw Finstock approaching in very obnoxious candy apple red robes toward them.

“Hi Marin,” Finstock spoke a little quickly and slurred. Stiles figured he was a bit drunk.

“Yes Bobby?”

“Would you like to dance with me?”

Morrell’s eyes opened wide. Stiles saw the way how she tried to shield her cup close to her body. Stiles laughed and without thinking about it, pushed her toward Finstock. “She would love to!”

Finstock beamed and took hold of her cup, downing her wine in one go and slamming it on the table. He then grabbed her wrist and dragged her toward the dance floor. Stiles laughed loudly, nearly bending over of the panicked look Morrell was giving Finstock.

“That was very cruel Mr. Stilinski.”

Stiles turned to his right and saw Professor Yukimura and Argent beside him. Yukimura was wearing traditional Japanese robes but this time they were stark white with branches designing the fabric. Argent was just in simple black ones.

“A bit.” Stiles agreed with her.

Yukimura smiled fondly. Argent flinched as he watched Finstock twirl Morrell dangerously. “I should go help her,” Argent declared, handing his cup of whiskey to Yukimura.

Stiles chuckled and leaned against the table wondering where his boyfriend ended up. He frowned when he couldn’t find him at the tables.

He flinched when Yukimura whispered in his ear, “You do have methods of finding him Mr. Stilinski.”

“Right.”

He took a breath and felt all the werewolves in the room. He had been getting better at detecting who was who now. He sensed Derek outside the Great Hall. He thanked Yukimura and headed outside.

He fretted Derek was closing himself off, but he saw Derek right outside the doors talking with a few Hufflepuffs in Derek’s year. Derek spotted him and Stiles walked over. He saw Theo and figured he had left Cora with Scott or something.

“It was too loud in there,” Derek told him. Stiles nodded in understanding.

Rhys chuckled, “C’mon guys, let’s leave the couple to themselves.”

Derek snarled at them as they left laughing. Stiles chuckled, although their suggestion was a pretty good idea. Without any hesitation, he grabbed Derek’s hand and dragged him to the nearest empty broom closet. When he shut the door, Derek understood immediately.

Derek slammed him against the wall and kissed him fiercely. Stiles moaned lewdly. His hands fisted in the back of Derek’s robes.

“Fuck,” Stiles moaned when Derek mouthed at his jaw. “Why are robes so thick?”

“Because our predecessors had their wands so far up their ass they forgot about their dicks.”

Stiles froze in shock and then he busted out cackling. He buried his face in Derek’s neck to hold back the chuckles, but his body still shook with laughter. He loved this snarky side of Derek. He pulled his head back and instead of the deep kiss from before, Stiles just peppered Derek with smooches because one, smooches were fucking awesome; two, he loved Derek; and three, Derek deserved all the kisses.

Derek tried to shove him off playfully but Stiles still tried. The two jumped as they heard a giant slam on the door.

“Hey!” He heard Erica shout from the other side.  

Stiles felt Jackson standing there too.

“Stop fucking and come out!” She banged the door again with her palm.

“Eww,” He heard Jackson snear. “They are about to announce King and Queen. Lydia said you have one minute to get your asses up there.”

Stiles groaned and gave Derek an amused look as Derek whispered in his ear, “Let’s skip it.”

“We heard that,” Erica shouted again. “Come on both of you. Do you really want me to knock down the door?”

Derek signed. He pulled back from Stiles and the Slytherin opened the door. He glared at both of his friends.

Erica made a face and grabbed his arm dragging him back into the Great Hall.

The four of them went up the stage with the other nominees. Stiles was situated next to Malia and Cora, upset to be standing there in the first place.

The Head Girl stood in the center trying to get everyone’s attention. When she did, the hall quieted down and looked at her expectantly.

“Well after a few weeks of gruesome campaigning the results are here for your Hogwarts royalty!” She screamed with enthusiasm.

The castle cheered.

“Let’s get to it. Your winner for Winter Ball Prince is…” She unfolded the letter in her hand.

“Prince?” Jackson mouthed to Lydia.

Lydia shrugged her shoulders, not understanding either.

“Oh right!” The Head Girl took out the winner, but did not read the name yet. “I forgot to mention the Head Boy and I decided to make a second place because everyone was working so hard! So the winner is Jackson Whittemore.”

The crowd cheered, but Jackson had a face of disgust, “Second place?”

“Shut up Jackson,” Danny shoved his friend. “Go take your crown.”

Jackson scoffed but went to the Head Girl. He leaned down so the girl could place a small crown on his head. Jackson sighed and crossed his arms beside the Head Girl.

“And now your winner for Winter Ball Princess…” She teared open the second letter. “Cora Hale!”

The crowd cheered and Cora gasped in surprise. Second place...even with the way they rigged the ballots that meant she had scored higher than Lydia. What the hell?

“What the hell?” Lydia shrieked as Cora was shoved by Erica to go accept her tiara.

Cora stood beside Jackson.

“Nice going Hale.”

“Shut up Whittemore.”

“And the two results that you have been waiting for! Your Winter Ball King is Brett Talbot!”

The castle cheered again but all the guys, especially Jackson, sent a murderous look at the older Slytherin.

“Hey,” Brett jibbed. “The only way to win was to make yourself small and let your opponents destroy each other.” He walked to the Head Girl and a crown bigger than Jackson’s was put on his head.

But the others weren’t allowed any time to fume as the Head Girl moved on quickly, “And lastly your Winter Ball Queen is….” She glanced down at the letter, “Stiles Stilinski?”

The girls in the pack whooped, overjoyed their plan worked.

Stiles choked down saliva and pointed to himself stupidly. “I’m sorry what? I didn’t even run!” He shouted in pain when Erica and Lydia stuck their nails into his arms and dragged him forward. The Head Girl smiled and placed the beautiful giant tiara on Stiles’ head. Stiles smiled awkwardly ignoring the laughs from his male friends and the coos from the girls.

“And now for the Royal Dance!” The Head Girl shouted in glee.

“What?” Cora, Jackson, and Stiles seethed. The only one who looked delighted was Brett.

Derek stepped forward, glaring at Brett. “Maybe we should hold off on the dance. I think murder might be involved if we don’t.”

The Head Girl frowned and looked to Erica for confirmation, “But you said this was tradition for muggle schools right?”

Erica nodded shyly.

Derek wanted to call the whole thing off but then some stupid idiot began to chant ‘dance’ and then the whole student body began to shout it as well.

The four crowned students had no choice but to go on the dance floor.

Cora faced Jackson and then she made a face. “Eww.”

“What?”

“We match.” She said examining their clothes. “Go change.”

“You go change.” He said scandalized.

“I’m the girl.”

“And I’m the one who's better dressed.”

While they were arguing back and forth as the band got their instruments together, Stiles sighed in Brett’s direction. “Hands where I can see them Brett.”

“But I’m taller, you be the girl.”

“No. I need to see your hands.”

“Why?”

“Because my boyfriend will kill you if you don’t. And the good boyfriend I am will help him hide the body.”

Brett sneaked a glance at Derek who was in fact glaring. “Right. Self-preservation winning over my dick at the moment.”

“Good.”

The pairs took their positions and then the awkward slow waltz began. Stiles wasn’t very good at slow dancing. He awkwardly maneuvered Brett around the dance floor, making sure they wouldn’t trip. Brett didn’t seem to mind and was showing off to his friends. Stiles could see at the corner of his eye Cora and Jackson still bickering as they danced. The two were revolving on the spot, Cora trying to fight to take the lead and steer. If they kept at it, they were going to look like a canoe stuck in the middle of the ocean.

Luckily, they didn’t have to be the center of attention for long. Boyd slowly walked toward Erica and asked for a dance. Erica smiled and the two danced much more in synch than Boyd had with Kira. People slowly began to file in by pairs.

When the final quavering note passed, Stiles sighed in relief and jumped away from Brett. Luckily, Brett didn’t seem to mind. He bowed politely and went to go search for his date. As soon as he left, Derek stood in front of him.

“Oh fuck,” Stiles complained, “Whoever voted for me can go rot in hell.”

Derek smirked and without any question, grabbed Stiles’ arm and wrapped it around his waist. Stiles stared in confusion. Derek wrapped his arm around Stiles waist and linked their hands together and began to dance with him as the new song began to play.

“You can dance?” Stiles asked stupidly as he let Derek lead.

Derek ignored him, “I think the girls rigged the ballots.” He smiled. “There was a strange glow on the box when we opened it.”

“Oh, I guess that’s remotely better.” Stiles rolled his eyes, still peeved.

Derek held in a chuckle and spun Stiles out, “I voted for you regardless.” Stiles laughed as he spun back in. Derek linked their bodies again, “And I think the tiara suits you.” Stiles scoffed and banged Derek’s chest playfully. Derek grinned and moved them closer so they could rest their heads on each other’s shoulders. Stiles sighed and felt his heart clench in satisfaction.

Yeah, he was so in love with Derek Hale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've been sick this weekend so I've been bed bound and just playing video games and writing fanfic. So here is this. I'm still groggy from the medicine so ignore any typos, although if I did break something in canon for my story please tell me. 
> 
> And Brett is the winner!! I chose my own second place..sorry!
> 
> What did you think of this chapter? Cute lovely moments. Well too bad!! Cause all that happiness is going to go away pretty soon! *insert evil laughter* Sorry just giving heads up so people can prepare themselves.
> 
> Anyway cause I like having visuals. Here is a [LINK](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1oZq-_h0K7vHsT0sKObHVgxZmcF4Sg9emf-IHHShMS1w/edit?usp=sharing) to the girls' outfits. I tried to match everyone to their personality and the way they dress on Teen Wolf. Also I only put Jackson and Isaac there since they are the only ones who have patterned design. The other guys were just chosen on what color best suited their skin tone. 
> 
> So yeah! Comment please! 
> 
> And Happy Thanksgiving for those in the U.S.!


	52. The Pensieve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Peter's return, Stiles finds himself thrown into the Hale's past.

The train ride back home was a long one. The pack napped in the dining cart they had annexed. Nearly everyone took a bench aisle for themselves. It was a relaxing time and those who woke before they arrived, settled with staring out the train’s windows in silence.

Stiles watched snow covered hillsides as Derek slept on his shoulder. Stiles tried not to move too much knowing Derek was a light sleeper. When the scenery became repetitive, Stiles took out his Moonwalker book and began translating.

He realized he was nearly finished translating the book. His notes were nearly complete as he began to catch on to his mother’s strange notes in the margins and began to memorize certain runes.

Frankly, he thought he would learn more about the history of Moonwalkers, but Rhea’s son, Nereus, had only listed out of order and without organization potions, spells, and abilities of Moonwalkers. A few of the techniques, he was looking forward to trying. He had already begun focusing on running faster with Yukimura.

That ability was difficult. Although, he knew he had done it before back during the Blake fiasco. He wasn’t sure how to replicate it. Before the break, Yukimura had told him he could practice on his own and there wouldn’t be any problem. So there was that.

Stiles flipped through the last ten pages or so of the book. Almost there. He wondered what was on the last page. He flipped through the last empty parchment pages and before the parchment became new, he saw scrawled in the left center of the book only a few runes. He was about to translate it but was distracted with the train’s whistle.

Derek sucked in a breath and sat up. Stiles closed his book and looked outside.

Back at King’s Cross…

The pack got their stuff together and got off the train looking for their families. Stiles surprisingly saw his father next to Melissa. His father rarely had time to come pick him up. Still, Stiles felt the muscles in his cheeks tighten as he smiled. Derek followed him seeing as Laura and everyone else’s parents were there too.

“Dad!” Stiles jumped into his arms.

His father chuckled and hugged him roughly.

When they pulled away, John smirked at Jackson and extended a hand. “Hello Jackson.”

Jackson shook it politely. “Hello, sir.”

“Ready to head home?”

Stiles looked cautiously at Jackson. Jackson’s face was passive but his eyes were screaming in shock. He nodded.

Stiles laughed softly. His attention diverted to Laura. Since everyone already knew about them, Stiles kissed Derek quickly.

“I’ll see you in a few days,” Stiles told him.

Derek agreed and left with Laura, Isaac, and Cora. The other parents began to head home with their own children as well.

All that remained were Melissa, John, Yukimura and their kids.

“Oh!” Stiles announced, looking at Yukimura. He had forgotten the woman had ridden the train with them in the staff carriage. “Shoot, Dad, I want you to meet someone!” He forced his dad to look at Yukimura.

“This is my new Transfiguration Professor.”

John smiled and bowed to the woman, “Hello Noshiko.”

The woman grinned and bowed back, “Hello Jan.”

Stiles balked. “Wait, you two know each other?”

Yukimura smirked, “I wouldn’t have trained you without parental permission. Your father and I have been engaging in weekly letters since the start of the term, Mr. Stilinski.”

“You knew?” Stiles scoffed in surprise.

John nodded proudly. “She said she wanted to hone your skills.”

Stiles stared quickly at his professor. He thanked her silently that she hadn’t spoken about his near death experiences. If she had told, his dad would have grounded him all over again.

“And you must be Kira?” John approached the girl slowly.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry you’ve had to train with my son as well.”

“Hey!” Stiles complained.

John and Yukimura laughed.

“Anyway, it was nice to officially meet you,” Yukimura said and turned around slowly. “But my husband has arrived and we are about to head home.”

Stiles peeked around her frame and saw a dorky Asian man jogging up to them. He was waving and shouting for their attention. Kira groaned and buried her face in her hands.

Scott laughed, “Your dad looks great,” He said sincerely.

Kira grimaced. She said her goodbyes and the two women finally left.

Melissa faced John, “Do you want me to drive you to my place so you can floo home from there or?”

“I’ll apparate, if that’s ok with you boys.”

Stiles and Jackson gave the ok.

Melissa smiled. “Ok then. I’ll see you for the holidays.”

Stiles hugged Melissa and Scott and watched them go through the wall to the car. When they were out of sight, John extended both his arms and Jackson and Stiles took hold of them and their luggage tightly.

The three landed with a crack outside the manor’s gates. When the manor sensed its owners were home, the gate opened. The three walked inside and headed up the stairs.

As Jackson hauled his suitcase to Stiles’ room, John coughed. “Um...Jackson, actually I set up a room for you. If that’s ok?”

Jackson glanced at Stiles then back at John.

Jackson shrugged. Stiles narrowed his eyes, set his suitcase in his room, and rushed over to the room beside his own. He caught half of his father’s conversation.

“—I know it’s not as big as your old room, but I thought you would appreciate having your own.” Stiles glanced inside. Even though the room had been for guests, Stiles could tell the amount of work his father had put into the room.

John had newly refurbished it. The colors were a muted gold and beige, much lighter than Jackson’s old room, which consisted of dark oaks and dark corners. Stiles could even see the small touches his father had set up, a bookshelf already lined with a few Quidditch and age-appropriate dark arts books.

“Is it ok?”

Jackson stood in the middle of the room and met John’s eyes. He weakly nodded, obviously overwhelmed.

John smiled. “Good, I’ll let you unpack. Dinner will be ready in an hour.” He stepped out of the room and Stiles wanted to snoop through the new room, but his father pushed him out into the hallway.

“Hey!” Stiles whined.

John rolled his eyes, “Let him adjust. You should unpack too.”

Stiles laughed and gave his father a salute that was half-mocking and half-impressed. His father after all had left Jackson speechless.

|~~***~~|

Stiles kept glancing at the back seat, making sure the car didn’t jostle the large gift too much. Before he had left Hogwarts, he had asked Morrell if she could send the package to Melissa’s home instead since they would be apparating to her house and then driving to Derek’s after.

“its fine Stiles,” John shouted from the front.

Stiles pushed back against his seat.

“Stop it.” Jackson cursed. He was sulking in the middle seat of the car, sandwiched between Scott and Stiles. You didn’t have to be a muggle to know that the middle seat sucked.

“You stop it.” Stiles childishly fought back.

“Guys c’mon. It’s Christmas, no fighting.” Scott whined. Although, the pots and pans filled with food was mostly the culprit of wanting the two to stop. He didn’t want them to wrestle and for an elbow to dig into his hardworking casserole and soup.

Stiles glanced outside and smiled in glee. He hadn’t seen Derek in a few days and he was already getting antsy. As soon as Melissa parked, Stiles jumped out of the car ignoring his dad’s protest to help them unpack.

However, when he stepped on their driveway, Stiles felt his heart quicken. There was an unidentified werewolf in the home. Stiles gasped. He reached for his wand, not caring if any muggle passersby could see. His father saw the gesture and immediately chased after Stiles.

Stiles made it to the locked door. He jiggled it uselessly.

“Dad, we need to get inside.” Stiles panicked.

His father didn’t voice any objections. He was about to mutter an unlocking spell, but then the door flung open.

Stiles froze as he saw Morrell standing at the doorway.

“Professor?” Stiles was very confused.

She sighed. She pulled open the door more and Stiles felt his skin run cold.

“Stiles!” His father shrieked when he saw his son’s eyes turn red.

Stiles stepped into the home and shot a ring of mountain ash directly at Peter Hale.

The others outside heard the commotion and left the car open and unattended as they rushed to the scene.

“Stiles? What’s going on?”

Stiles ignored his father for the time being. He knew his eyes were still red as he stomped toward Peter standing calmly in front of the couch. For once, Stiles felt in complete control of his powers and Peter must have sensed it because the amused smirk on his lips faltered and turned into a frown.

“You  _ have _ been training,” Peter spoke matter-of-factly.

“What are you doing here?” Stiles spat.

“I found him loitering in London,” Morrell answered. She stepped behind Stiles. “He said he was buying a housewarming gift.”

“I was.” Peter nodded. “Very difficult task though. All the shops have been ransacked and when you try to purchase a bottle of wine the teenager at the register somehow gives you the perfect you are pathetic look all while asking for you to free them and send them home to their families on Christmas eve.”

“Shut up already.” He heard Laura threaten.

Stiles saw Laura standing by the fireplace glaring at Peter.

“Where are the others? Where’s Derek?” Stiles asked quickly.

“Out buying last minute food supplies with Isaac and Cora. They haven’t seen Peter yet.”

“Aww, Laura, it’s rude to call your uncle by his name.”

They ignored him. John looked at his son and spoke carefully, “Stiles, what’s going on?”

Stiles sighed and let his red eyes clear. “Remember the Lycaon ritual? Peter was part of it and he’s trying to bring him back.”

John stood straight. He pointed his wand at Peter’s throat. “Explain yourself now.”

Stiles felt heat under his skin and saw the others arrive. He saw Derek first. Derek was utterly furious. He slammed the door behind him and released a terrifying loud roar. John and Melissa were the only ones to jump in shock.

Derek stomped to Peter. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh Derek, always the dramatic child. If you hadn’t interrupted so rudely, I would have already been explaining by now.”

Derek snarled again.

Peter rolled his eyes, “Fine. I am here because I had promised that I would return for important holidays. It’s Christmas. And your birthday. I think that warrants a visit from your uncle.”

“Not when he’s been murdering people and trying to revive a demon.”

“I haven’t murdered anyone. Plotted, yes. It could be worse though. I could be the creepy uncle at family gatherings.”

Isaac scrunched his nose. “You are the creepy uncle.”

Peter pouted and then glanced around. “Honestly, I’m not lying. You can listen to my heartbeat. I came back because I wanted to spend time with my family.”

“And the fact that you are trying to revive Lycaon is just information we should just ignore,” Derek snarled.

“Yes.” Peter nodded proudly. “That’s exactly right.”

“No.” Derek said with finality in his tone. “Get out.”

“What? But—”

“Get out.”

“I think,” Morrell interrupted quickly. “Keeping him here would be in our best interest.”

“What?” Cora shouted.

“It has taken me a long time to find him. We can keep him here, he can enjoy his dinner, and when he’s done, I’ll take him to Alan. My brother can do to him what he sees fit.”

John pretended not to hear how Morrell and Deaton were taking the law into their own hands.

“Yes. I enjoy that idea very much. Thank you. And what do you think I’m going to do in a house with two witches, werewolves, a Head Auror and... a Moonwalker? Commit murder? Preposterous.”

Everyone groaned at Morrell’s suggestion. Derek growled low in his throat and walked past Peter into the kitchen. The younger members of the pack followed Derek with the same demeanor.

The adults remained standing in the living room with Peter.

“So are we just leaving him there?” Melissa asked awkwardly.

“Stiles decided he would be confined to that space, so we are to leave him.” Morrell said.

“Stiles decided?” John croaked, unsure whether he liked responsibility placed so heavily on his son.

“Yes and Derek sanctioned it by walking away,” Morrell replied.

Melissa and John focused their attention on Laura. The eldest Hale sibling shrugged, “Pack dynamics.”

She pushed off the fireplace and headed to the kitchen to work on preparations.

The adults then followed her leaving a grinning Peter all alone.

Surprisingly, dinner ended up being civil. Stiles confined Peter to a section of a table, where Peter didn’t speak much. He only stared at his family with a sad look in his eyes. He hardly ate as well, but none of the pack members paid him heed, except Stiles.

Stiles’ attention directed elsewhere as Laura cheerfully announced they were to open gifts. Everyone followed her to the living room.

|~~***~~|

A few hours had passed since they had opened the gifts. The pack had relocated to the Hale’s backyard enjoying hot drinks and sugary sweets. In between speaking with Laura and Cora, Stiles got the urge to use the restroom. He sensed Isaac in the one below so Stiles headed upstairs.

When Stiles emerged out of the bathroom, he caught Peter walking into his old room. Stiles scrunched his brows, wondering who had let him out of the mountain ash ring. Taking a deep breath, Stiles walked down the hallway and entered Peter’s room. Stiles knew something was suspicious as he saw Peter waiting for him in the center of the room.

“What are you doing?” Stiles asked quickly.

“Waiting for you,” Peter put up no walls.

“Why?”

“I wanted to show you something.”

“So this was the ulterior motive of coming here?”

“Not exactly,” The grin collapsed. “I really did want to come and see my nieces and nephew before I decide to…”

“Revive Lycaon and commit mass murder?”

“Yes.” The grin was back, but it was stretched weakly across his face.

“We aren’t going to let you revive him. You’re caught.”

“You can’t stop me, Stiles. This. This is meant to happen, all the pieces on the chessboard have been moving to this exact moment and Lycaon is the final move, at least for me.”

“You’re full of bullshit. I’m gonna go get Morrell.” He headed back to the door.

“Aren’t you curious of why I’m reviving Lycaon?”

Stiles’ was at the doorway. “Because you're a psychopath who thinks this is going to revenge your family. Dude, I really don’t care for you—”

“I wouldn’t call myself a psychopath; they have a lack of empathy and do not like to accept responsibility. Reviving Lycaon means accepting responsibility of what I did. This is revenge, just as you say, but the person who decided revenge wasn’t the way to go never experienced an entire family’s death...one that was on their hands. They never experienced overwhelming shame, that no matter how hard they try to claw it out of their body, shame has a way of creeping back in there.”

Stiles found his body taking three steps further inside the room. “What are you saying?”

“It’s easier if I show you.” He walked to his full length mirror. With his wand, he tapped the frame. The glass popped out and a small raised table floated out. On top of the table was a giant basin.

“What is that?” Stiles kept his distance.

“A pensieve?”

“A what?”

“Extremely rare object. Only a handful of wizards know of their existence.”

“Stop being dramatic and answer, what is it?”

“It’s a place where one can store copies of thoughts and memories that you can return to at a later date. Come closer, it’s not dangerous.”

Stiles did. A shallow stone basin lay there, with odd carvings around the edge: runes and symbols that Stiles recognized as Greek from his Moonwalker book. He quickly translated a few runes—Chronos and Mnemosyne, the mother of the Mousai. Time and memory? So Peter was not lying.

Stiles eyes scrunched and curiosity got the better of him. He hovered over the basin. There was a silvery light coming from the basin’s contents, which were like nothing Stiles had ever seen before. He could not tell whether substance was liquid or gas. It was bright, whitish silver and it was moving ceaselessly; the surface of it became ruffled, like water beneath wind, and then like clouds, separated and swirled smoothly.

“And what am I supposed to do with this?”

“See my mistakes.”

“How?”

“You put your face in it and you are dragged into the thoughts.”

“Right. Like I’m going to dunk my head in a magic object I don’t know. Nice try, Peter.”

“Use your magic. I’m not lying.”

Stiles stepped back. “Why are you showing me this? Why not the others?”

“Because they listen to you.”

Stiles wanted to laugh. They listened to Derek. Not him. “Whatever is in there, isn’t going to make it ok that you’re about to kill hundreds of people.”

“I don’t need it to be ok. I just want them to understand. Use your magic.”

There was desperation in Peter that made Stiles roll his eyes.  **_“Tell me the truth. What is in the basin? Is it harmful?”_ **

The glaze in Peter’s eyes appeared. “There are only thoughts in the basin and it will not hurt you in the slightest. I just want you to see it and tell Derek what I did.”

“I still don’t trust you.”

“You don’t have to. When you enter the memories, they will be mixed together so you will travel from one to the next. The memory will not see you.”

Stiles looked at the pensieve and back to Peter. He wanted to turn around and go find Morrell, but he was dying to know what made someone as psychotic as Peter feel shame.

Stiles took a breath. “I’ll decide whether I tell Derek.”

Peter nodded quietly.

Stiles was overly confused but got close to the basin. The tip of his nose touched the strange substance.

|~~***~~|

Peter was surprised how smoothly that went. He thought he would have to dunk the kid’s face into the pensieve, but Stiles was generally curious and didn’t need much incentive.

But for once, Peter was being truthful. He needed someone to know what he had done. Perhaps, they would take it more lightly that he was about to murder a large group of people.

He stood closer and then saw Stiles struggling, trying to pull out of the pensieve. Ah, so he had realized what was going on.  

But Stiles would not be escaping the pensieve until he went through all the memories. He had charmed the basin to do so. So with one last look, he walked out of his room shutting the door. He walked down the hallway and ran into Morrell at the stairs.

“What are you doing up there? I was looking for you.” She spoke emotionlessly.

Peter shrugged, “Just unfinished business.” When she glared at him, Peter scoffed, “I didn’t kill anyone, if that’s what you are thinking.”

“It wasn’t.”

“Right. You know I don’t kill people unless it has an outcome that benefits me. Killing anyone here may be detrimental to the cause.”

“I’m sorry I presumed, given your problematic history.”

Peter held in a growl. “Don’t you dare.”

Morrell eyed him carefully and then she sighed. “Are you done?”

Peter gave a single nod.

“Good,” She said. “You had your fun, now it’s time to go.” She extended her hand out almost as if she was asking for a dance. Peter tentatively took it and braced himself for the pull.

|~~***~~|

Stiles was falling through cold blackness, spinning furiously as he went and then—

He was standing in a forest overlooking several cabins on the opposite side of the river. He saw several children ranging from the age of eight to eighteen running on the opposite side of the river and many of the children had the words ‘Summer Camp’ written in green lettering on obnoxious yellow shirts. Several shrieks and laughter could be heard as the children were running about the cabins with the older children chasing after them.

Stiles looked at the children carefully with much confusion. This was Peter’s memory, right?  

He tried to get closer and then he heard a twig snap to his right. And there Derek was, hiding behind a few trees and examining the children playing on the other side. Stiles stared. Ten year old Derek, wisps of black hair all around his head, rosy flushed cheeks from summer heat. His boyish mossy green eyes matched his neon blue shirt and dear lord, Derek was wearing bright colors.

Oh Merlin, no.

These weren’t Peter’s memories.

They were Derek’s.

No, this was a direct breach of trust and consent. Stiles tried to pull out. No matter how he struggled, there was no escape. He was here and forced to watch Derek’s memories. A sinking feeling churned in his gut, he knew he would not like what he was going to see.

Fuck. How could he be so stupid to trust Peter?

He sighed and saw Derek creep out of the shadows and closer to the river’s edge. Stiles couldn’t help but smirk, glad to know that Derek was always a creeper even as a child.

Derek looked at the steep river for a few seconds before his eyes flickered yellow. Derek’s Beta eyes were blue. What the...?

Using werewolf strength obviously, Derek jumped over the river. Stiles didn’t know how he was going to follow the younger version of Derek but as Derek walked ahead, Stiles felt himself being dragged over the river.

Stiles trailed beside Derek, his hands in his pockets, accepting his fate to trail Derek like some duckling. Derek’s face kept passing through mixtures of awe and excitement and Stiles found this innocent Derek adorable to watch. He wondered why Derek had been creeping on the kids but he figured he was going to get his answer enough.

Derek walked over to a group of boys about Derek’s age playing some muggle game where they threw an orange ball in a hoop. It was almost like Quidditch, except there was only one post, and there was no one trying to kill them with Bludgers, or there was no Snitch. Ok, so it was nothing like Quidditch, but Stiles found the logistics the same. Derek shyly stood at the court’s sidelines, watching the boys.

One of the boys took notice though and smiled at Derek. “Hey!”

Derek waved.

“Do you want to play? It’s three against two and we need one more player.”

“Sure!” Derek agreed, jogging over to play with the others.

They played for a long time and Derek was extremely good. Stiles cheered on baby Derek as he made shot after shot. He couldn’t tell if it was because of his werewolf abilities or actual talent, but the rest of the boys were awed at Derek and accepted him in their group easily.

“How come we haven’t seen you at camp before?” One of the other boys asked as they sat together in the middle of the court, all catching their breath. Derek didn’t even look winded.

“Cause I’m not registered. My family lives in the woods and I heard kids so I decided to come check it out.”

“You live in the woods!” Another boy shrieked, intrigued. The boy reminded Stiles of Scott.

Derek looked proud. “Yeah, it’s super cool.”

“Can we come visit?”

Derek shook his head. “Sorry, I uh…” He said awkwardly.

“We can’t leave the camp.” A boy with the glasses said. This one was like Boyd, all reasonable. “We can get in trouble.”

The other boys groaned, but asked Derek if he would come visit them. Derek agreed. When Derek had to head back home, the other boys decided to walk him over to the edge of the lake. Derek was about to jump, but then he paused, looking to his left. Stiles followed his line of vision.

She was a small girl about Derek’s age with long dark brown hair and a single mole on the bottom of her eye. She was carrying a rather large instrument in hand, as she sat at the edge of the river.

“Who is that?” Derek said, turning to face her completely.

The boys all turned and made a face. “Oh that’s Paige.” The Scott look alike said. “She’s no fun. Don’t bother with her.”

“What do you mean she’s no fun?”

“All she does is play her cello and read books.”

“But she’s so pretty.”

“Girls are yucky.” The rest of the boys agreed. Stiles laughed as Derek made a face at them. Apparently, Derek was an early bloomer.

Derek bid the boys farewell and decided to head to Paige instead. Stiles watched all the boys make faces again but none of them made any comments. Stiles followed Derek.

“Hi.” Derek smiled.

“Go away.” Paige said.

Derek reeled back in shock. Stiles laughed loudly at the quick rejection. “What? You don’t even know why I’m here.”

“Don’t care. Practicing, now leave please.”

“Fine. I’ll leave.” Derek without preamble jumped over the steep river. Stiles watched the girl’s reaction. She was interested in Derek’s power but she hid her smile with her instrument very well that Derek didn’t even notice.

Stiles felt a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach as the memory rippled. Peter had mentioned that all the memories had been dumped in the pensieve. In quick flashes, Stiles saw Derek approach Paige again and again and again. Stiles counted seven rejections in total. Stiles felt proud for Paige, she had the art of cutting people short to an art. Lydia had nothing on this girl.  

The memory rippled again and Stiles found himself outside a large home. It was a manor made of wood. Different geometrical shapes of cylinders and triangles and rectangles made up the two perhaps three story home. A giant porch surrounded the entire front yard and Stiles could see that in the backyard a giant glass greenhouse glimmered against the summer sun.

This was the Hale Manor. Merlin. It was so beautiful. He couldn't even begin to imagine what it must have looked like now. He spotted Derek running after a boy about seventeen years old into the home. The boy was blonde and muscular and didn’t look like Derek at all except for the same mossy green almost blue eyes. “Daryl!” Derek shouted. “Please.” Derek whined and that was something that Stiles thought he would never hear Derek willingly do.

“No.”

“But you're the only one who can do it.”

Daryl rolled his eyes and headed up the staircase. Derek persisted. “C’mon. I’ll pay you.”

Daryl stopped. “What do you have?”

“Uh. Some chocolate cards. A few cauldron cakes. And three Fanged Frisbees. Oh and a box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Bean.”

Daryl paused. “I’ll take the cauldron cake and the Fanged Frisbees and count in the Bertie Bott’s.”

Derek hugged Daryl round his middle. “Thank you! This is why you are my favorite cousin!”

“I thought Billy was your favorite cousin.”

Derek pouted. “Billy says his favorite cousin is Cora! He’s a traitor.”

Daryl laughed. “Ok fine, bring it into my room.”

Derek ran up the rest of the stairs and Stiles found himself running excitedly after the ten year old. Despite, he knew this was extremely rude; he still wanted to get any glimmer of Derek's past life.

Stiles froze in the doorway.

Derek’s room wasn’t very big; it was about the size of Scott’s. But it was nothing like Scott’s. His walls were lined with tall bookshelves with several books from children stories, fantasies, books on phonetics and basic math. Overall, Stiles concluded Derek was a giant nerd. His bed was neatly tended and beside it was a desk with several pictures of his family.

He stepped into the room and saw a giant window overlooking the greenhouse outside. Stiles breathed out in disbelief as he saw a woman working inside. Morrell...

Stiles turned around as he saw Derek wrestle a recorder from underneath his messy closet. Ah, so that’s where the mess was. Stiles was worried Derek was a neat freak.

Derek grabbed the recorder and ran down the long manor’s hallway into what Stiles presumed was Daryl’s room.

There were several people already in there. He gaped as he recognized Cora who was about eight and Laura who looked about fifteen. There were three other people. A blonde girl with the same eye color as Daryl sitting on the bed with a magazine in hand. She looked about the same age as Laura. Laura sat beside the blonde girl reading the magazine with her as another girl younger than Laura but older than Derek, painted Laura’s toenails. Again the same eyes as the others but she had stunning copper colored hair. Stiles’ eyes traveled to the boy of about eight years old, Cora was playing with. He had copper colored hair as well and brown eyes. He was playing Exploding Snap with Cora in the middle of the room.

Derek jumped on the large bed next to the redhead.

Stiles didn’t know where to stand, there were so many people. He decided to hover awkwardly by Daryl’s desk where Daryl was fiddling with a few things.

“You got it?” Daryl asked, stopping over what looked like inventions?

Derek waved the recorder.

The redhead who had been painting Laura’s toenails looked at the two. “What are you two doing?”

“None of your business, Anna.” Derek stated.

Ok redhead girl, Anna. Stiles checked off. So who were the other two?

“Oh don’t be so mean Derek,” The blonde girl chided in a very sweet voice. She reminded him of Allison.

Derek stuck his tongue out as Daryl grabbed the recorder. He sat at his desk chair and began to cast several spells on the instrument. As he dabbled with it, he listened to the others conversation.

“Where have you been going lately?” Laura questioned with a coy smile.

“He’s probably visiting the summer camp a mile off from the manor.” The redheaded boy said nonchalantly.

“Billy!” Derek screeched. “I told you not to say anything.”

“Summer camp?” The blonde girl asked.

William continued to speak. “Yup he goes to stalk some poor girl.”

Stiles laughed as Derek reddened. The girls on the bed began to giggle. “Does Derek have a crush?” Anna teased, getting off the bed and climbing toward Derek.

“No!”

“Leave your cousin alone,” The blonde girl stated.

“You're no fun Beth!” Anna cried.

“Agreed,” Laura giggled, crawling to Derek. “Derek has a crush,” She sing songed.

“Shut up! I do not!”

“Dude,” Daryl spoke up. “You're making me charm this recorder to play by itself just so you can impress some girl. I’m gonna say it for everyone you have a crush.”

Derek turned redder. Stiles looked fondly at the scene getting the message quickly. Daryl, Beth, Anna, and William were siblings and were Derek’s cousins. This was perfect knowing that even in this time, Derek got picked on.

“Ten sickles that Derek messes it up!” Cora spoke up.

“You’re on!” Laura and Anna said in tandem.

Derek growled. His eyes flashed yellow. Everyone laughed and Stiles did too. Derek’s growl was so tiny. He sounded like a puppy.

“C’mon, Derek from your diaphragm.” Daryl instructed. Stiles stared. Daryl’s eyes flashed yellow and he growled loudly. It shook the house. Not a second later, Stiles could hear from downstairs a man’s voice.

“You kids better be behaving!”

Stiles wanted to rush down and see who it was. He wanted to get to know all of Derek’s family. Everyone in the room faked hushing noises and then broke into a fit of laughter.

A loud female voice, then broke the laughter and called everyone for dinner. The kids grinned and shoved each other to go down first.

Stiles followed them calmly.

He was about to enter the dining room, but stopped when he saw the living room. He stole a glance at Derek and then decided to enter it. His eyes roamed the ceiling to the walls and to the furniture. This was an exact copy of the Room of Requirement. No. The Room was the copy.

Stiles felt guilt again. This is exactly why he shouldn’t have been here.

He was going to exit and go back to Derek but stopped when he saw a tall dark skinned older woman march inside.

“Tell me again, what happened?”

Right behind her trailed Peter.

Stiles gasped. This is what Peter was talking about. He wasn’t lying, this was still about him.

Behind Peter was an attractive Asian man, glaring daggers at the back of Peter’s head. Then another two people entered, one of them looking remarkably like Derek and the other looking like the tall woman but a little older.

“Oh c’mon Talia, aren’t you going to give your brother a hug after his vacation.” Peter cooed. He dragged the Asian man next to him in for a hug. The man glared harder.

Wait Talia?

Crap, that was Derek’s mother. Then that must have been Derek’s father and the other woman…

“You just apparated onto the grounds smelling like blood and scouring charms. That warrants a conversation, little brother.” The eldest in the room spoke.

“Oh, Sandra,” Peter laughed. “Stop being dramatic.”

The Asian man beside Peter scoffed, “Peter, just tell them or I will.”

Stiles saw Talia waiting patiently for Peter to speak.

“Ok so Nathaniel and I,” He hugged the Asian man round the middle. The Asian man, Nathaniel was not impressed and crossed his arms over his chest, “Went on our beautiful vacation in France and we spent it mostly under the sheets.”

“Get to the point Peter,” Nathaniel chastised.

Peter flinched and tried to look innocent. “Ok, so the last day we were there we decided to explore this small wizard village. We wanted some real wizard wine, not the muggle ones they were giving us in the hotel. So we wandered into some small pub and…” Peter groaned then looked at Nathaniel. “Do I have to?”

Nathaniel sighed and then moved over to sit on the couch. Peter sat in his lap. The others in the room sat around them.

Nathaniel then looked up at the ceiling, “You might want to go get Alan and Marin, perhaps their advice would do well in the situation.”

Stiles froze. What had Peter done? In that moment, Stiles would have shouted at Peter, but Talia merely nodded calmly. “Lucas?”

Derek’s father stood, and shortly after, both Alan and Marin arrived. They remained standing.

“Ok,” Nathaniel sighed, taking the reigns from Peter. “Like Peter said we only wanted a drink. We entered the pub, ordered our drinks, and remained inconspicuous as much as possible. I got a little off balance.”

“Honey,” Peter interrupted. “You were sloshed.”

Nathaniel rolled his eyes, “Ok, so yes. I drank more than I should have. Peter was going to walk me out and apparate us in a back alley of the hotel. But I insisted I could walk on my own and Peter let me. I didn’t have the best coordination and I fell right into a table of a group of three wizards. They had some strange crest on their necks because it picked up Peter’s scent on me. I have no idea what wizards would possess artifacts such as those to pick up a werewolf’s scent on a wizard. But the thing glowed. The men picked me up and shoved me against the wall. Peter had enough sense to not approach too closely after he saw the glowing necklaces. But these men began pestering me on what werewolf I was fucking with, said it was the only way their crest would glow. A werewolf’s scent had to be reeking off me.”

“What did you say?” Talia questioned calmly.

Peter jumped in, “I came to his rescue and convinced the men that we were from the Ministry and were running experiments on werewolves, naturally the scent would seep into our skin. The men were too drunk and believed me. They threw Nathaniel at me and that’s that.”

“Peter.” Talia growled low in her throat. “That doesn’t explain the smell of blood and chlorine on your hands. You tried to hide evidence, what did you do?”

Nathaniel shrunk into the seat, “Naturally, the men began making remarks about werewolves.”

Peter interrupted. “Nasty ones, sister! I haven’t heard such foul language not even from our hateful Ministry. I couldn’t stand it, I—”

“You killed them?” Morrell asked calmly.

“No!” Nathaniel and Peter screamed in panic.

“So what did you do?” Talia was losing patience.

Peter bit his bottom lip, “I might have lost control. I attacked the men. Hurt them badly. There weren’t any other customers in the pub besides us but once I saw the bartender reach for his wand and aimed at me but Nathaniel stood in the way and I...killed the bartender.” Peter looked up at his sister and his eyes were blue. Talia sucked in a terrified breath. Stiles had trouble drawing a connection between the deaths and blue eyes, but he could tell it wasn’t good.

“Peter.”

“I know!” Peter shouted. “I didn’t kill the others though. Nathaniel made sure of that.”

Nathaniel nodded. “I was too drunk to stop him, but I was coherent enough to know that something needed to be done. I went behind the bar and found a sobriety potion. I took it and was lucid enough to halt Peter’s actions before he killed the rest. But they saw Peter and...I obliviated them.”

Talia growled and her eyes flashed red for a second, “What happened after that?”

“Peter was tied up so I tried as many cleaning charms as I could. I grabbed Peter and we apparated back to our hotel. We cleaned ourselves up, packed our things, went to the Ministry for an international portkey, and came back here.”

Talia stood from the recliner chair and walked to the couch. She stood in front of both of them but her glare was on Peter.

“Do you know what you just did?” She spoke evenly.

“They were talking bad things about us, sister.”

“And? I hear comments all the time in the Ministry but you do not see me attacking my colleagues. What you just did could ruin our pack”

“Except,” Deaton spoke. “The men were obliviated. Nathaniel is extremely talented in charms. Nathaniel most likely was able to erase any trace of their existence. I doubt anyone would be able to trace it back to the Hales.”

“Unless,” Morrell said, “Someone in the Wizard village saw them enter the pub and saw them escaping from a crime scene.”

“It was dark,” Nathaniel spoke hurriedly. “No one would have been able to distinguish us.”

“Are you sure?” Talia asked him.

Nathaniel shrinked under the Alpha’s stare. “It was very dark and there were no oil lamps lit.”

Talia sighed and took a step back. “I think this matter needs to be—”

_ “Appa! Daddy!” _

Stiles saw two Asian three year olds, one boy and one girl, run into the living room. They hopped onto Peter’s and Nathaniel’s lap. The two adults smiled. The two children looked exactly like Nathaniel. Stiles suspected these children belonged to Nathaniel more than they did to Peter, although that might not have mattered in the grand scheme of things because Stiles could see Peter loved those two children like his own as he buried his face in their hair.

And then Stiles saw Derek peek his head through the door, “Mom? Grandma Sally says foods ready.”

Talia closed her eyes and took a long breath, “We will deal with this again later.”

The memory rippled and Stiles was standing beside a river with Derek and Paige. He didn’t listen to their conversation as he thought of the scene that played before him. Why did Peter want to show him that? And could the memory even be trusted if it was from Derek’s point of view? Stiles glanced around, everything was so vivid and detailed this couldn’t just be a memory. He recalled the rune on the basin for Chronos. Time. The basin wasn’t a memory or a thought, it was reflection of a specific point in time.

“I can explain!” Stiles heard Derek shout.

Stiles head snapped two the two children. Derek’s recorder had fallen out of his hands but it was still playing a soft melody.

“It’s new technology!” Derek shouted again, reaching for the recorder. It danced out of his grasp. Paige, however was looking at Derek with awe.

“You’re a wizard.” She accused.

“No!” Derek grinned in triumph as he wrestled the recorder to his chest. “That’s ridiculous.”

“No...I’m…” Paige glanced around and saw no one was there. “I’m a witch.” She whispered.

“What?”

“A witch? Are you too?”

“Um…” Derek looked overly cautious. “Yes.”

“Really?” She smiled for the first time. “Are you going to Hogwarts?”

At the mention of Hogwarts, Derek visibly relaxed. “I’ll be attending at the end of next summer.”

Paige placed her cello to the side. “Me too! We can be buddies.”

Derek nodded. “I...wait why is a witch at a muggle summer camp?”

“Because they have a good music program.”

“Huh?”

Paige rolled her eyes. “Just because I’m a witch, doesn’t mean I want to give up my dreams. My parents are both muggleborn so I was raised in a muggle atmosphere so I got to listen to a lot of muggle classical music. I love it, more than wizard classics. And when my parents told me I was a witch, I was a little upset because Hogwarts doesn’t have a very extensive music program. So here I am trying to use everything I can to practice and carry over this knowledge into the wizarding world. Mom and Dad said that’s a brilliant idea, I would just have to work very hard.”

_ “Oh.” _

“What?”

“You’re gonna be a Hufflepuff.” Derek wrinkled his nose. “Hard work is radiating off you.”

“There is nothing wrong with being a Hufflepuff.” She stuck her nose in the air. “And let me guess, can’t take no for an answer, decided to cheat with music, and likes to show off by jumping over the river. I would say you're a Gryffindor.”

“I would hope so, my parents were.”

“Who are your parents?”

“Talia and Lucas Hale,” Derek said proudly.

“Oh my god, you’re a Hale? They’re one of the most influential families in the Ministry and the arts. Ok, I’ll suck up your poor personality and be your best friend to further my future dreams.”

Derek laughed sarcastically, “If it gets you to talk to me sure. But I do have to go home now. So…”

“Home? You live in the woods?”

“Yeah.”

“Right, that’s where the manor is. I’ll see you later. Maybe I can teach you how to play an actual note.”

“Sure.”

The memory rippled again.

Stiles wasn’t sure how much time had passed but he was suddenly standing outside the manor again. This time Derek was yanking Paige’s shirt and trying to drag her inside.

“I don’t want to impose.” She said.

“It’s fine. My family will love you.”

Stiles was curious to see how the interaction would play out but seeing the interaction with Peter, made Stiles want to search him out. He entered the manor. He searched everywhere in the house but he couldn’t find anyone. And then he saw Sandra Hale with a four year old on her lap heading to the backyard. He followed her. She set her kid on the ground and the small little boy ran toward Peter’s kids. Sandra then walked over to the greenhouse.

Stiles pursued. He entered the abode and saw Talia looking cross with Peter, only Morrell and Sandra were there with them.

“Do you know what I just found Peter?” Talia scorned. “Hunter traps.”

“What?” Sandra spoke.

“Yes. Nathaniel and I were walking in the woods when we spotted a mountain ash ring. I wonder who could have put it there.”

“Talia, I think it's too soon to draw conclusions.” Sandra tried to defend Peter.

“No.” Morrell interrupted. “This is a sign. Talia, I would strongly advise for all of us to remain within the manor and set up stronger protective wards. We can’t take chances.”

Stiles realized no one argued with her. Her old pack, of course.

“Mom!”

Stiles saw Laura swing the greenhouse door open. “Derek brought home a girl.”

Talia’s hard face softened beautifully, “Did he? I’ll see who it is in a bit. Go get your siblings and cousins ready for dinner.”

“Are we going to tease him?” Laura grinned.

“What do you think?”

“Yes.” Laura jumped happily away.

Talia resumed her Alpha presence. “Peter tell Nathaniel and Cersei to increase the wards outside. Morrell contact Anthony and George and tell them to return to the manor.”

“No,” Sandra rebutted. “George has been working for ages in those runes in Mexico. You are not pulling him from his career. And he’s safer over there if something were to happen.”

“But we aren’t.” Talia told her sister. “George is skilled duelist. We will need him.”

“Need him? For what?”

“In case this turns into a war.”

“ _ A war? _ Listen to yourself Talia, you sound like dad. There is no war between werewolves and humans. As long as we keep our heads down, nothing is going to happen.”

“I would disagree seeing as my pack died.” Morrell seethed.

“That was eight years ago. Hunters have stopped their games. We’re safe.”

Talia turned to Morrell, “Marin, what would you advise?”

“Reinforcements are necessary. We are stronger as a pack.”

“Good,” Talia smiled and turned to Sandra. “Don’t forget your place in this pack.”

Sandra glared at her younger sister and stormed out of the greenhouse.

“I’m sorry,” Peter spoke.

Talia rolled her eyes, “C’mon. We have a guest to entertain.”

Stiles followed the Hales into the manor and hovered behind Derek as he watched them eat. Derek announced Paige as a witch and a future musician. Paige blushed but the family gushed over the tiny girl. They teased Derek endlessly during dinner, especially his mother. Almost as if she hadn’t had a serious conversation a few minutes ago. So this is what an Alpha was supposed to do.

The dinner lasted long into the evening and Talia told Lucas to escort Derek and help them sneak Paige back into the camp.

Stiles felt the familiar sensation of the memory shifting.

He was standing above a lake. Stiles could see the summer camp kids splashing in the water and he could see the Hale children swimming with them. Laura was swarmed by a group of boys, she seemed to enjoy the attention. Cora was wrestling with a few of cousins in the water. He even saw a few of the older members of the Hale family. He saw Anna and Daryl with a blonde man and ginger haired woman. Stiles smiled, that’s where they got their features from. The woman, Cersei had the same blue eyes as Lucas, so Stiles pieced together that was Lucas’ sister and the Hales’ Aunt. Stiles looked for Derek then, he saw him sitting on a bent tree with Paige.

“How did you find out?” Derek whispered.

“I have eyes Derek. I saw your eyes turn yellow.” Paige said back.

Stiles approached closer.

“So why are you here?”

“What do you mean?”

“You hate me right?”

“Why would I?”

“Because everyone hates us.”

“I don’t. You’re not any different from me and you’ve never given any reason that you would hurt me.”

“I might. My cousin says I always need to be careful around humans. He says they’re weaker than us.”

“I’m not weak.”

“But you’re human.”

Stiles smiled, as he saw a very deep frown settle on the girl’s face. She shoved Derek as hard as she could into the water.

“Hey!” Derek exclaimed coming up for air.

“Not so weak am I?

Derek glared at her and reached for her ankles, dragging her down. Stiles chuckled as he watched the two splash around. Until finally both of them stilled, Paige smiled. “I won’t tell anyone about your family. It will be our little secret when we go to Hogwarts. Ok?”

Stiles could see the hesitancy on Derek’s face.

Paige rolled her eyes and leaned forward, giving Derek a kiss on the cheek. “Ok?” She repeated.

Derek blushed. “Ok.”

“Good.” She said and kissed Derek on the cheek again.

Stiles was hit with a sudden realization that this girl was Derek’s first love. Not Kate Argent. It was Paige.

The memory pulled him in another direction.

It was dark in the middle woods. Stiles could hear a howl and then several. He heard twigs snapping to his right. Stiles turned to the noise and saw Derek running with Paige, fear in both their faces.

They phased through him and Stiles ran after. Stiles gasped as he saw three hunters right behind them. Stiles wanted to do something but it was useless. He saw Derek get trapped in the mountain ash and very quickly three hunters caught up with them.

Derek pushed Paige behind him and released a very pathetic growl. Paige’s hands balled into fists. The three hunters surrounded them and laughed at the display.

Stiles struggled to comprehend the hunters as they spoke in rapid French. But he understood the message clearly of what they wanted as they each pointed a wand at Derek. Stiles cried out in pain. He rushed to the closest hunter and tried to shove him, but his hands phased through. Stiles kept trying and his whole body phased through the man. Stiles fell on his side. He held back his tears as the men continued to discuss. He needed to—Stiles’ cries lodged in his throat as he saw a crest hang from the man’s chest.

Stiles sucked in a breath. The crest he had seen it before. It was the same one Allison used to wear.

These hunters were Argents.

With that realization, one of the men shot an unfamiliar spell. Paige cried out and shoved Derek to the ground. The spell hit her in the chest. She fell backwards and Derek barely had enough time to cushion her fall. She immediately began to convulse.

“No!” Stiles shouted, crawling toward the children. He hovered by Derek wanting to reach out and help.

He heard the hunters laugh again. However, this time their laughs were cut short as a loud howl echoed in the woods. Suddenly, Stiles saw a giant wolf with white rings under its eyes jump out of the shadows. The wolf latched onto one of the hunter’s arms. The cry was painful to Stiles’ ears. Not a second later, he saw Lucas and Peter jump out of the woods as well, both with their Beta features. Both of them went to each hunter.

Stiles sighed a little in relief as the adults got there. He then saw Nathaniel rushing quickly to the scene. He fell by the kids and ran his hands on the mountain ash, breaking the line. “Go!” Nathaniel ordered them.

Derek nodded shakily. He lifted Paige into his arms and began running further into the woods.

Stiles watched him go and he stayed with the others as he heard a sickening crunch. He saw Talia’s fur coated in blood. Beside her was a dead hunter with his neck ripped open. Stiles gulped.

Talia shifted into human. Her naked form looked natural yet eerie in the woods. Blood dripped off her jaw as she spoke, “No, get them back to the manor.”

“There are four other hunters at the manor.” Nathaniel informed. “Cersei, George, and Anthony are doing the best they can to hold them back. They need help.”

Stiles heard two more cracks and saw Lucas and Peter break the hunters’ necks.

“Where are the kids?” Lucas demanded. The furrow in his brows, reminded Stiles’ of Derek’s panicked face.

“I don’t know. I saw Daryl and Laura taking them and running.” Nathaniel answered.

“Laura is smart. She would take them where there are civilians.” Talia answered. “We need to go back to the manor.”

“And Derek and the girl?” Lucas cried, desperately wanting to run to his son.

“He’s fine. He’s going to camp. He’ll be safe.”

“The girl won’t. She got hit by something.” Lucas said sternly.

Stiles saw the lines on Talia’s face harden. “She’s not our pack.” She took a deep breath. “Nathaniel go find Alan and Marin. Tell them to hide the bodies.”

Nathaniel couldn’t help but snort. “Alan isn’t going to, all of us know that.”

“Then I will command him.” She shifted seamlessly back into a wolf and ran back to the manor. Stiles saw Peter run off without a second question. Lucas seemed more hesitant. He looked in the direction of where Derek had run and then resigned himself to following not only his Alpha but his wife. He sprinted to the manor. Nathaniel then apparated.

Stiles felt his body get pulled. He was suddenly in front of Derek.

He was by the river’s edge. The same place where the two children had met. Derek was cradling Paige in his lap, sobbing quietly and rocking back and forth.

Stiles felt his chest tighten painfully. He crouched in front of Derek. “Derek, it’s going to be fine.” Stiles told him. He knew he couldn’t be heard, but he had to say something.

“Derek, it’s going to be fine.” Stiles gasped as he heard Paige whisper softly the same thing. She reached a hand up to Derek’s cheek. “It’s fine. Your family is going to be safe.”

“What about you?” Derek sobbed. His tears were falling on her face.

Paige coughed abruptly. “I’ll stay here.” She coughed again. A violent tremor shook her body. She shrieked loudly. Derek held her tightly and tried to get her to stop moving.

“Stop it.” Paige spoke.

“What?”

“Make the pain stop.”

“I can’t. I can’t do magic. We have to wait for my Uncle Peter to come. He can heal you.”

“There’s no time. We both know it.” She was crying now. “Make the pain stop, please.”

“Paige. What about Hogwarts? You promised, you were going to my friend.”

“I still am.” She coughed. Splatters of blood landed on Derek’s cheek. “I will be. Please do me this favor.”

Derek pressed his forehead against Paige’s. And then Stiles felt his own hands shake as he watched Derek’s claws bury against Paige’s chest. Paige released a soft whimper and then all life escaped her.

Derek pressed the side of his cheek against her chest. Suddenly, Stiles could see an electric blue overtake Derek’s eyes.  _ Oh.  _ Stiles sat as close as possible to Derek, realizing what those eyes had meant. He had seen them on Ethan and Aiden, Peter, and now Derek and they all had one thing tying them together. They had all killed someone, but not just anyone. Someone who had no part in this...an innocent.

Fucking Merlin, Derek was a child. How could this happen?

Stiles sat and sobbed with Derek.  

It took Stiles a moment to realize the memory had shifted, because he was still sitting in the same space, but what caught his attention was a girl of fourteen smiling at Derek. “Hi my name is Kate. What’s yours?”

Stiles felt like someone had punched him in the throat. One, because this was Kate Argent and two, because he was being pulled out.

Stiles gasped for air and rubbed the back of his head as he collided with the wooden floor. He slowly sat up and when he looked at who had pulled him out of the pensieve, he saw Derek shaking in so much rage and anger that Stiles began to cry again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for late upload. Finals were intense. Should be updating quicker again. 
> 
> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everyone. Enjoy this tragic chapter and the next to follow. 
> 
> Notes: Appa-is Korean, an informal way to say father, so like Daddy or Dad?


	53. Overreactions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The events that follow after Stiles' looks into Derek's most private self.

Stiles couldn’t stop the pathetic tears falling from his eyes. He wasn’t sure if he was crying for what he had witnessed or because he knew he had seen something he wasn’t meant to. Stiles did know that Derek’s angry stare looming right above him, signaled that Stiles had crossed a line in their relationship that both were not even ready to talk about. 

“What did you see?” Derek spoke in clip tones.

Stiles struggled with his words. His mind replayed Derek’s claws digging into the young girl’s body. He pressed his palms into his eyes for a few long seconds and then wiped them. “Paige.” Stiles gulped.

Derek’s nostrils flared. He leaned down and with a firm grip, yanked Stiles to his feet. Stiles hissed as fingers digged into his soft skin. Human instinct caused fear to coil around Stiles’ body but then rationality kicked him in the head and reminded him that while Derek was angry with him, he was also scared. Stiles could feel it in the way Derek’s arm was shaking against his own. 

“What else?”

“You…” Stiles avoided his look. 

Derek sucked in a breath. “Why would you go snooping in my memories?”

The tears had stopped in response to Derek’s furious tone. His mouth moved uncomfortably from the sudden dryness in his cheeks. “Peter—”

“—Peter?”

“Yeah. He told me that there was something I needed to see.”

Derek let go of his arm. “And you just listened to him?”

“I thought they were Peter’s memories!” Stiles voice rose in volume. “He never said they were yours.”

“Right.” Derek scoffed. His eyes roamed around the room before he walked into the hallway.

Stiles felt something nasty and dangerous crawl from his stomach to his throat. “Wait a minute, Derek. Peter told me that he wanted me to see why he wanted to revive Lycaon. He said the pensieve held the answers.”

Derek continued walking and shouted over his shoulder. “Why would my memories tell you about Peter?”

Stiles grunted in frustration. “You aren’t listening!” He chased him down the stairs. “I thought they were Peter’s memories. I didn’t do it on purpose!”

Once they reached the living room, Derek spun quickly to face Stiles. “And once you saw they were mine, you what? Decided to stay and invade my privacy!” 

“I couldn’t leave the pensive. It wouldn’t let me!” Stiles shouted loudly.

By then, the other occupants in the house heard the commotion and slowly entered the living room. 

“And I’m supposed to believe that?”

“Yes!” Stiles’ arms flapped around him. “Listen to my heartbeat, Derek. I am telling the truth.”

“I can’t tell if you are telling the truth.” Derek said in a normal tone. 

“What?”

“Your heartbeat is too erratic right now to read and the entire house smells like your magic. When you use your Moonwalker magic, it has a very specific scent. But the scent is permeated around the entire place because you’ve been using it for Peter. I can’t tell if you are lying right now because of it.”

Stiles scoffed. “I wouldn’t use my magic to lie to you, Derek!”

“You have before,” Derek muttered. His arms crossed over his chest.

Stiles licked his lips, quickly realizing Derek was right. “Well I’m not lying now! Trust in me, Derek! Peter put something in the pensieve and I couldn’t get out.” A begging tone began to overtake him. 

“I can’t.” Derek faced away from him.

Stiles maneuvered around Derek so they would have eye contact. “Why not?!”

“Because why would Peter show you why he wants to kill Lycaon? And, you are one of the most nosy people I know. You have no sense of respect when it comes to people’s privacy.” 

Stiles continued to scream, “I wouldn’t invade yours like that!”

Derek scoffed. “You’re always invading my privacy.”

Stiles took a breath that made him lean away from Derek. “You really think that?”

Derek didn’t answer only held direct eye contact with him. 

“Fuck you!” Stiles reached out and shoved Derek as hard as he could. Stiles saw Derek was unprepared for it and he stumbled back two steps. 

“Stiles.” John called out, stepping forward.

Stiles ignored his father for the time being. “Fuck you!” Stiles shouted again. “Trust me! I wouldn’t lie about this. I was in there and I saw Peter and I saw why Kate was there in the first place.”

Derek’s face hardened. “You know nothing.”

“I know a lot. I saw how you met Paige by the river, the same place—”

“Shut up!” Derek growled. His eyes flashed red. 

Stiles saw in the corner of his eye, his father take out his wand, but Stiles refused to move. “I saw how Peter returned to the manor with Nathaniel after their honeymoon, vacation, or whatever.”

“Shut up!” Derek shouted again. “I don’t want to hear any of this.”

Stiles understood clearly why Derek didn’t want to hear about that past, but how else was he supposed to show that he was there for Peter and not Derek? He voiced this thought aloud. “I’m sorry ok. It wasn’t my intention—” Stiles paused when he saw Derek clearly wasn’t listening anymore. He was breathing deeply through his nose and glaring at the floor.

“Derek!” Stiles shouted loudly to get his attention. “You know? Fine.” Stiles marched over to the pile of opened gifts. He reached for the one Derek had given him. It was a black orb that when levitated over a burning flame, gave a projection of the owner’s most calming thoughts. He grabbed the orb and flung it at Derek.

Dere caught it with his right hand with a frown. “You told me to stop lying to you, otherwise we couldn’t be together. I’m not lying, but obviously you think I am. So I’m honoring what you said Derek. We’re done.” Stiles marched to the fireplace.

It took a moment for Derek to register Stiles’ words. “Wait.”

Stiles paused. “What? Are you going to believe me now?”

“I…” Derek started, his hand was clutching the orb tightly. 

Stiles whispered, “Merlin, you really don’t trust me.” Stiles took a large breath. “Dad, I’m going back home.” He grabbed a large handful of the floo powder and stepped inside the fireplace. The last thing he saw was Derek’s eyes shaking behind the green flames.

 

|~~***~~|

 

The party ended awkwardly very quickly. Jackson and Stiles’ father flooed back home and Melissa and Scott drove back to their place. Isaac and Laura were in the living room cleaning up while Derek quietly cleaned with Cora in the kitchen.

“What?” Derek spat. He could smell judgment emanating from her body; he didn't even know judgment had a scent.

Cora grabbed a bunch of plates and threw them in the sink. “You fucked up.” She said matter-of-factly. She grabbed a sponge and began to wash the dishes. 

Derek took a shaky breath. “Thank you, Cora for giving me opinion I did not need.”

“Your welcome. Hell, I'll give it you again because I'm so generous. You fucked up.”

Derek’s jaw tightened. “He was lying. He went into my memories knowingly.”

Derek could only see Cora’s back but he could tell she rolled her eyes. “And if he was, who cares? Isn’t it about time he knows?”

Derek stopped pretending to wipe the kitchen counter. His hand clenched against the towel. “It’s a sensitive subject.”

“Obviously. But I was under the impression people talked about their inner most feelings when in a relationship.” 

“Yes, talked. Not go inside someone’s memories without their permission.” 

“But he thought he was going into Peter’s.”

“So he says.”

“Really, Derek? You're really going to believe Stiles, Stiles lied to you? Use your head! He was probably tricked by Peter to go in there.”

“Stiles’ isn't stupid. He has his magic, he would have interrogated Peter before sticking his head in something he didn't know.”

“Wow, you think way too highly of Stiles.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“It means that Stiles makes mistakes. A shit tons. Why is it hard to believe he made a mistake with Peter of all people, which I should add has always been good at manipulating others even before the fire.”

“Because Stiles should know better.”

Cora scoffed and turned around. “Anyway, why did Peter have your memories?”

Derek felt Cora venture into safer territory. “Mom had wanted to see how it happened so she asked Peter for his pensieve. I didn’t know he still had it.”

“Oh.” She let the water run behind her and then spun again, “Wait. The pensieve is Peter’s?”

“Yeah?”

“Doesn't that mean he would know how to mess with one, like I don't know? Trap someone in there?”

Derek growled. He could see what his sister was doing but he wasn't going to fall for it. Derek knew he was right. Stiles was smart, it's one of the reasons Derek was in love with him. He wouldn't have been tricked so easily. The only logical explanation was that Peter had told Stiles that his memories were there and Stiles jumped in there the first chance he got. And obviously, Stiles had seen his regrettable past and hated it more than ever and looked for any excuse to break up with him. 

That made more sense to him. Stiles lied that Peter had tricked him and thought the excuse would make the break-up seem more mutual than one-sided. Stiles was good with doing stuff like that, manipulating a situation for his benefit. After all, who would want to be with a murderer anyway? No one, not even someone like Stiles. 

“I'll be in my room.” Derek announced. He left the rag on the counter and stomped upstairs.

As soon as he closed the door, Derek wanted to go back downstairs and shout at Laura. She had moved up everyone's presents and Derek could see the ones from the pack on his bed and could see the one Stiles had given him under his window.

He walked to it. It was a small bookshelf. At first it seemed random, but on closer inspection, Derek could see the amount of detail and work Stiles had dedicated to the piece. The dark oak was carved intricately using magic. Wolves ran along the edges and toward the top middle border of the bookshelf. There was a single wolf standing alone in front of a moon. The piece was beautiful and Derek had been surprised with the gesture. 

He had led to Stiles to his room a few times during the Spring Break, and he was astounded that Stiles had been observant enough to note that his three lone books on the floor of his room belonged to him rather than the family. Stiles had only made a place for him to keep it all. His own space. 

Before Derek could run his hands across the shelf, Derek reeled back. He threw off his clothes throwing them in his closet. Taking a deep breath, every thought within Derek simplified. On four paws, Derek jumped onto his bed. The bed creaked under the weight of his wolf form. Taking careful movements, Derek fell asleep ignoring the painful ache of betrayal. 

 

|~~***~~|

 

Three days had gone by since Stiles broke up with Derek. The sad thing about it was, no matter how hard he tried; no matter how hard he wished it, he couldn’t hate Derek for not trusting him. Stiles after all, always lied. His father always said so anyway. Everyone did. 

A sound disturbed the silence of Stiles’ room, but Stiles didn’t bother to look up. He felt Scott and Jackson in the house. He wasn’t quite up to dealing with them in his present mood. 

With his constant anxiety over the situation, he wondered every minute if he had made the right choice. The thought of it exhausted him physically, mentally, and emotionally. 

Stiles brought his sheets high over his head as he heard muffled voices shouting, it sounded like Scott and Jackson. He wanted to tell them off, he simply could do with a lot less drama at the moment. 

Finally, he felt the werewolves draw near and the door was pulled open. 

“Moping again, Stilinski?” 

He almost groaned. He really didn’t need Jackson. Then again, the rest of the world could do without the damn asshole. 

“Fuck off. I’m not in the mood.” Stiles blocked them out completely. Stiles then realized a moment later that he shouldn’t have said that. It only served to make Jackson  _ want  _ to stick around.

“Let me guess,” sneered Jackson.  “It’s about your breakup with Derek Hale.”

Stiles didn’t reply.

He heard someone muttering a spell. Stiles threw the covers off and saw Scott pointing his wand at Jackson. Stiles nearly forgot Scott was already of age. He looked at Jackson. Jackson’s ass was stickied to the dresser he had been leaning against. Stiles snorted. 

“McCall!” Jackson tried to break free without ripping his pants. 

“I have a brilliant idea, why don’t both of you stay and we can braid each other’s hair?” Stiles said bitterly, finally sitting up. “You’ve said I was a sucker for punishment, so I’ll suffer both your company.”

“You ought to feel privileged you’re in my presence, is what you ought to be saying. Goes to show that you have to have your minion cast stupid spells just so I wouldn’t walk out on your self-pitying ass.” 

Scott interrupted Jackson. “Stiles we’re worried. You haven’t come out of your room since…”

“Since Derek and I broke up?”

“Yeah.”

“So? We broke up. I’ll get over it same way you got over Allison.” 

_ “See.”  _ Jackson seethed. “I told you we should just leave him alone. But you're sick Gryffindor saving tendencies had to barge inside.” 

“We don’t leave pack alone, Jackson.” Scott spat.

“Except he wants to be alone. I would too, who would want to talk to you?”

“Because I’m his best friend. And you’ve only been his friend because you have to, otherwise you’ll be kicked out.” 

“I don’t have to do anything. Stiles on the other hand wants to rot in bed. Let him. It’s his life. ”

“It’s not healthy for him. We have to take him out! Do something!” 

A deep flush rose in Stiles’ cheeks and he shot both such a murderous scowl that it could’ve killed them if an  _ Avada Kedavra  _ was attached to it.  Gritting his teeth for a few heartbeats, he quickly kicked his covers off the bed. He was right here! They didn’t have to talk about him like that.

“Get out.” 

Jackson howled with laughter. “Can’t.”

Stiles directed his glare to Scott. Scott removed the spell and Jackson left the room without looking back. Scott looked reluctant.

“Stiles.”

“No.”

“I’ll be home if you want to talk.” Scott took quiet steps out the room. 

Stiles sat at the edge of his bed. His hands gripped the mattress until his knuckles turned white. With controlled breaths, he stood and tightened his hand against the door to slam it shut. 

“Woah there.”

Stiles stepped back as his father entered the room. His father shut the door behind him. 

Stiles sighed and crouched down to pick up the covers. He dragged them with him as he crawled back into bed.

His father sat at the edge of the bed and was quiet for a few minutes. Until, “I spoke to Derek before he went upstairs to find you.” 

Stiles didn’t have strength to resist. He paused, gave it a moment’s thought and spoke. “What did he say?” 

And that was it. His father told him of Derek’s plans after Hogwarts. How he was unsure but he did know he wanted to keep the pack together and Stiles safe. His father inputted his commentary of how stupid Derek sounded but he was impressed with the care and love he had for him. 

His father summoned whatever monster Stiles had residing in his chest. Stiles curled into a ball and began to cry for the first time since he had broken up with Derek. His father turned around and placed a warm weight on his ankle. 

“I screwed up dad. I shouldn’t have broken up with him. I should go back now and apologize.”

“Stiles, I know you are almost an adult so I shouldn’t try to influence your decision too much, but should you be the one apologizing?”

Stiles thought it over. “No.” 

“Then?” 

Stiles wiped his face and sat up. “Are you saying I shouldn’t get back with him?”

“I think relationships are a two-way thing and trust is a very important aspect of relationships and I don’t think Derek trusts you. He loves you but—”

“But I get why he doesn’t trust me. Dad, in that pensieve, I saw—there’s a reason why he didn’t want to trust me.”

“Are you justifying him?”

“No but—Derek is so damaged, dad. I understand, we’ll get through it.”

“And if something like this happens again? What are you going to do? Live with the fact your boyfriend doesn’t trust or confide in you?”

Stiles hands’ came to his lap. “I…”

“I think you need to evaluate the relationship carefully. I should know that a relationship can’t fix every person’s flaws. Sometimes the person has to realize it and fix themselves.”

“So I wait for Derek to trust me?”

“You can, but I don’t think the issue is Derek trusting you but rather having people know his faults. He’s trusted you with stories of his family, right? That trust is different than letting someone see all your wrongdoings. People are afraid if they let someone else witness that, they’ll leave because the person they were in love with wasn’t really who they thought they were. You actually leaving might not have helped, regardless this is an issue only Derek can get past on his own.” 

He saw the point in his father’s words. “How long do you think I have to wait for Derek to get past it?”

“It's hard to say. You're the one who knows him better than I do.”

Stiles groaned. “This is going to take ages then.”

“Are you willing to wait?”

“I think I am.”

“Then that's what you need to do. Yes, you can go over there and take Derek back but it's not going to change the underlying issue that both of you need to mature before you have a civil conversation.”

“Both of us?”

“Shoving him and throwing the gift he gave you at his face might have been a tad inappropriate.” 

“I wasn't aiming for his face…”

“But do you see where I'm getting at?”

“Yeah, I could have handled it more calmly.”

“So?”

“We wait. Both of us.”

“Good.” His father stood awkwardly from the bed. “Merlin, this sure wasn't in the parenting books. How to help your son who has ancient goddess magic running in his veins restore his relationship with an Alpha werewolf, would have been really helpful..”

“You might have just missed the chapter.”

“Probably. You'll be ok?”

“Not really.”

“It will take time.”

“Yeah.”

“Good. I'll start making dinner.”

After Jackson, Stiles, and John finished having an awkward dinner, Stiles went outside with his Moonwalker textbook. He sat at the fountain using the floating balls of light to read. He flipped through it idly, munching on some licorice wands, searching for the page on mountain ash circles written by Rhea’s son. He had the same concept of Rhea but he stated the ash could be created without the use of hands. He set the book on the banister and stood up slowly. 

He needed to practice his magic. Although he wasn’t in the company of too many werewolves, his skin was starting to prickle from the lack of an outlet.

He read the passage three times before beginning. He took a deep breath and looked over to the edge of the fountain. Surprisingly, the mountain ash appeared with little struggle over the white snow. He thanked Yukimura for her rigorous training.

He looked in different directions of the yard, casting lopsided circles. He wanted to perfect casting a strong ring of it but—  

Stiles felt a werewolf approach and on instinct spun quickly around and trapped whoever it was in the mountain ash ring. 

“Seriously?” Stiles heard a pretentious voice utter in disdain.

Stiles sighed and walked over to the porch where he had Jackson trapped in a perfect circle. Huh? Jackson began to complain, but Stiles couldn’t be bothered to care when he examined the mountain ash from all sides. After practicing with Kira, Stiles was able to tell when he casted the mountain ash correctly or not, the ash would feel complete and this one did. What had been the difference?

He was startled for one, but there was something else about it. 

The lack of hesitation.

“Stilinski!”

“What?” Stiles finally bothered to reply.

“Let me out.” 

“Ehh…” Stiles walked back to the fountain to retrieve his book. Jackson shouted obscenities at his back. 

Stiles returned, standing in front of Jackson as he skimmed the book.

“Hey Dragon’s Tit!”

“Merlin.” Stiles reached out with his right foot and broke the line. Jackson snootily raised his nose in the air.

“What were you doing anyway?” Jackson questioned, when he calmed himself down. 

“Training.”

“Oh. right.” Jackson’s voice got awkward. He started to step back, “I’m going to my room then.”

Stiles looked up from his book, startled at Jackson’s words. Was Jackson concerned with his well-being? “I’m fine right now. No burning feeling at all.” Stiles said as Jackson paused at the french window. “You can stay.”

“This looks boring, I have other stuff to do.”

Stiles shrugged, and let Jackson decide if he wanted to stay or not. He went back to his book and saw Jackson walk slowly to one of the tables and chairs at the patio. Stiles decided to sit next to him. Stiles continued going back and forth between Rhea’s notes and her son’s for half an hour in silence with Jackson. Stiles only broke out of his intense concentration when he heard Jackson mutter, “You ok?”

Stiles continued to look at his book, but stopped reading. He wasn’t sure if he heard Jackson. He slowly looked up and saw Jackson with his head leaned against the back of the chair and his eyes closed. 

“Um...no.” 

Jackson didn’t even move.

Stiles sighed and went again to his book. He happened to flip to the last pages before they became new and his eyes stopped against the only few runes. Translating the book for months made Stiles accustomed to certain symbols, and the way the runes were written alluded to a name. Stiles looked at it closely, it looked vaguely familiar. 

He flipped quickly back to Rhea’s diary entries and found it almost immediately.

_ Deucalion. _

Deucalion?

It clicked instantaneously. “Holy Dragon’s Balls!” Stiles screeched loudly. Jackson opened his eyes and looked at Stiles strangely. “Fuck...this…” Stiles felt excitement bubble out of his mouth and a second later he was screaming for his father.

His father appeared outside in a few seconds, hand already reaching for his wand. “What’s wrong?”

Stiles laughed and jumped out his seat toward his father. He shoved the cover painfully in his father’s nose. “Dad!”

“What?” His father lowered the book.

“Do you recognize this book?”

“Yeah, you’ve been holding onto that for a while. It’s the Moonwalker book right?”

“No! Well yes! But I mean do you recognize it as something else?”

“It was Claudia’s.”

“Yeah.” Stiles whispered. He clutched the book tight. “Do you know where mom got the book in the first place?”

His father shook his head, “I don’t remember.”

“Well can you remember around what time?”

His father looked over Stiles’ shoulder. He thought it over for a few seconds. “During the Deucalion case, why?”

“Did mom ever get anything from the case or?”

“She was sent from the Beast Division to investigate any ‘beastly artifacts’ in Deucalion’s home. She said she didn’t find anything but—” 

“Wow.” Stiles stepped back and almost fell trying to relocate his seat. “That’s incredible.”

“Stiles, I’m not following.”

“The last page of this book it says Deucalion. Rhea’s son must have ran into him and wrote his name before the book was taken. Deucalion’s ancestors must have kept the book for millenniums and passed down what little knowledge they had of Moonwalkers to their emissaries, which is how Morrell knew about them and it's how mom found the book in their home.”

“Small world.” His father said.

“I wouldn’t say that.” Jackson replied.

Stiles met Jackson’s eyes, their previous conversations coming to mind. His hands clutched the book tightly. It was too much of a coincidence, huh?

“Well I have to head into the office real quick, you boys will be ok?”

“Why do you need to go the office?”

His father licked his lips, “Peter.”

Jackson and Stiles shared a look. “What do you mean, Peter?”

“He attacked Morrell during the side apparition. She’s fine by the way, barely a scratch on her. But Peter escaped and now knowing what he’s planning, we have the auror team on red alert.”

“We need to stop him.” Stiles said quickly.

“We?”

“Yeah? We can help.”

“Stiles, the aurors are prepared for this. We know what he is planning we can handle it.”

“So what do you expect me to do?” 

“Just stay in school, Stiles. The aurors have this.” 

That was all his father said as he went back inside. And all Stiles could think of was Peter’s words who believed this was all meant to happen. 

 

|~~***~~|

 

Derek walked into the school library, intent on grabbing a book he needed for Yukimura’s Transfiguration essay. However, as soon as he entered he caught Stiles’ scent. He was ready to turn around and grab the book some other time, but he really need to start his essay. He took a breath and walked to the advanced section. 

He saw Stiles sitting in one of the aisle tables. He knew Stiles could sense him too, but Stiles hadn’t moved from his seat as he continued reading. Derek gulped. Since their return to school a week ago, neither had really spoken about their relationship or lack thereof. They still engaged in civil conversation in the Great Hall and Derek had even congratulated Stiles for Slytherin’s win against Ravenclaw a few days ago. However, all of their conversations stayed at that basic level; they interacted like they barely knew each other. Which was even more concerning, since Derek recalled when him and Stiles first met. They had never been civil toward each other. They had always yelled to express their feelings, this, whatever this was, felt like all connection had been teared apart. 

Losing all connection with Stiles had been what Derek fretted about the entire break. Holed in his room as a wolf, let Derek experience every aching feeling of heartbreak. Derek had only left his room to eat or when Isaac dragged him outside because he had a list of muggle things he wanted to experience. Other than that, Derek felt as he was losing touch with everything and everyone around him. 

Derek was dead terrified having a conversation with anyone outside of small talk. He worried that Stiles had told the pack what he had done as a child. Everyone was sure to reject him because of it. He had murdered someone. He had murdered Paige. 

He wondered what his life would have been like if they hadn’t run into the hunters. Would Paige really be in Hufflepuff like Derek believed? Would they have been best friends? More? 

Derek’s eyes shot back to Stiles when he heard a page being flipped. He was hit with a quick realization that this was the first time he and Stiles were alone together.

Derek stepped forward and Stiles looked at him. They made direct eye contact. Derek’s Alpha instinct insisted him to stay rooted to the ground and hold eye contact until one of them broke. Knowing Stiles for so long, Derek could easily tell Stiles’ emotions even without his scent, His eyes always gave him away. This time though, Derek could not get anything out of Stiles. Stiles broke first. He licked his lips and he went back to reading.

Fidgeting a moment, Derek looked around for the book he needed. 

“Did you hear about Peter,” Stiles said softly, when Derek had his back to him. 

Derek nodded, his face impassive. “Yes. Morrell told us. Is your dad looking into it?”

“Yes.” He idly flipped the page over. 

Derek did not know how to carry on the conversation. He crouched low where the book index card had said the book was meant to be at. There was a giant place missing.

Derek frowned, there was no marker on the index card that someone had checked the book. He stood straight, looking around to see if it had been misplaced.

“You know Peter was able to manipulate Morrell.”

Derek froze on reading on of the book’s spines. “He had attacked her, that’s how he escaped.”

“But there wasn’t a scratch on her.”

“Peter is good with spells.”

Derek heard Stiles shift in his seat. Derek turned around and saw Stiles glaring up at him. “So is Morrell. If he had attacked her with magic, I don’t think Morrell would have lost him. She fought Deucalion after all. So Peter manipulated her, it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“If you are…”

Stiles stood, “Yeah, I am. If Peter manipulated her, then Peter did to me too. Peter told me the memories were—”

“—Stop.”

“Why?”

“Because you are trying to place blame on someone else.”

“And placing blame on Peter is bad?”

“It is when you did something wrong out of your own volition.” 

Stiles scoffed. He turned away from Derek and began to collect his things. He slammed the book shut and Derek saw clearly the book he had been looking for. Derek inched closer.

Stiles leaned back against the table. “What?” 

“I need the book.”

“Well I’m not done with it.” 

“I just saw you end your notes with a slash. You always end your notes like that. You’re done.”

“No. I’m not. I still need to read the chapter on Transmutations and Birds. Unless you think I’m lying. I always lie apparently.” 

Derek licked his lips. “I’m not insinuating that you are lying.”

“Yes, you are.”

Derek felt his temper flare. “You are the one getting defensive about it. So now I do believe you are.”

“You know what? If I knew you were such an asshole I would never have—never have even gotten this book.” Stiles shouted. He grabbed the book and shoved it into Derek’s arms. Derek understood clearly what Stiles had meant to say. Never had gotten together with you—it was so obvious to see.  

“You were the one who threw yourse—threw the book at me!” Derek yelled back. 

“I did not. You were looking everywhere but at it. I had to help you find it because you were being stupid!” 

“I wasn’t. I was being rational.”

“Rational? You have no rationality in you. Your first instinct is to growl and glare at it hoping it will combust. Rationality implies you want to talk but you never want to talk.”

“I do talk with you.”

“Only when it has to do with my fuck ups. Not yours.”

“I did not fuck up! You did!” Derek shouted so loudly that it even startled him. Stiles stepped down and it was then that Derek noticed that Stiles was red in the face and his eyes were watery. He wanted to reach out and comfort Stiles, but the heels clanking against the ground made him stop.

He looked down the aisle and saw the librarian. She was enraged, obviously and ready to shout at whoever disturbed the silence in her library, but when she saw Derek had caused the noise, her face contorted into confusion. She licked her lips and directed her displeasure at Stiles. “Mr. Stilinski. What have I told you about keeping quiet?”

“I’m sorry miss.” Stiles replied. “I’ll walk myself out.”  Stiles walked down the library aisle; he paused in his step and actually looked over his shoulder. Something in Stiles’ eyes flickered, and then it was gone. He turned and walked away. 

Derek sighed and clutched the book even tighter. 

“Mr. Hale?” The librarian asked worriedly.

Derek blinked rapidly. “I would like to check this book out please.” 

The librarian nodded sadly and took the book calmly from his hands. Derek waited for her to turn the corner before he let go of a shaky breath. 

Once Derek had checked out the book, he went to the Great Hall for dinner. The pack was sitting at the Gryffindor table today. He walked slowly there when he spotted Stiles sandwiched between Scott and Cora. 

Derek sat next to Boyd, the least likely to ask him how his day went. When he reached for the mashed potatoes, Derek heard Stiles’ voice. 

“Hey Derek can you pass me the salt?” Stiles asked calmly.

Derek reached over and passed it without saying a word. Stiles thanked him and went back to his conversation with Cora. 

Derek preferred it when they were yelling, at least Stiles acknowledged him. 

 

|~~***~~|

 

“I swear if you are going to talk about your tragic love quarrel with Derek, I’m going to gut you and use your organs as fertilizer for my Herbology project.”

“Hi Lydia.” Stiles announced loudly. 

“I’m serious.” She stopped working on her essay. 

“I know you are,” Stiles grinned passive-aggressively at her. “I came to ask for some help with the Arithmancy homework.” He dropped his things on the floor and sat beside her in the Ravenclaw Common Room. The area was usually empty around this time of day since most of the Ravenclaws preferred studying in the library anyway. 

He spread his things around the table while Lydia glared at him, “Go ask Boyd. I haven’t started the assignment yet. I’m working on the History essay.”

“I can’t ask Boyd.”

“Why?”

“Because each time I try to approach him he stares at me with these eyes of adoration and affection? Why do you think?” He spat.

“I think this sounds like a you problem.” She went back to her essay. “I’m not the one who broke up with Derek and broke his heart. I’m honestly surprised though his little Hufflepuffs haven’t banded together and tried to kill you and hide your body in the Black Lake.” 

“Erica already told me she will strike when I least expect it. Isaac calmed her down, and I’m hoping Isaac is strong enough to hold her back.”

“You do realize that still leaves Boyd? Isaac can’t hold him back.”

Stiles groaned, “I know. I’ve been using my powers constantly to feel him out to make sure we are keeping at least a floor between us at all times. I shouldn’t have to worry about it too much though. I made a large order of strawberry chocolate frogs to give to Cora in hopes I can bribe her to keep Boyd away from me.” 

“That’s not going to happen anytime soon.”

“Why do you say that with a smile?” Stiles groaned again.

“Because Cora’s been too busy hanging out with Allison. They are having girl time, which is a lot more important than playing body guard.”

“Are you ok with that? Them together?” Stiles asked hesitantly.

“Yup. I’m capable of sharing Stiles. It’s not a complete loss. I’ve been able to spend time with Jackson a little more. Things are going great with him by the way and the sex is getting to be more fantastic than ever, now that we know each other pretty intimately, thanks for asking.”

Stiles gagged. “I didn’t ask.”

“I know, but someone should be congratulating me for my long relationship with Jackson considering both our personalities. Who else is going to?”

“Allison.”

“I said she was busy. Merlin, Stiles this is why you are having trouble in Arithmancy, you never listen.” 

“I’m having trouble paying attention because Boyd keeps breathing down my neck.”

Lydia shrugged. “Again not my problem.” 

“Lydia, come on.” Stiles begged. “Just look at the assignment and help me.”

Lydia sighed and stole the assignment from his hands. She read over the problems. She reached out and pulled out an empty parchment and began to write down several log formulas. “Use this following nomenclature.”

“What does this one mean?” 

“That’s for the mixing distribution and don’t forget that the bottom one is a resultant mixture of f over g, where f represents the force of the counter spell not the spell cast.”

“Right.” Stiles nodded. “That’s what I was confused on. Thanks.” 

He used the formulas she had written down and work in silence on the problems as Lydia continued working on her essay. 

After two hours, the Ravenclaw tower filled with an orange hue. He looked over at Lydia and saw her hair in flames against the light. He sighed and wished briefly for the simple times when he was still dead set on marrying Lydia before he left Hogwarts. He snorted as he recalled transfiguring a Hippogriff within the Ravenclaw Common Room all in attempts to woo her. Fuck, everything was a lot easier back then. No murders. No crazy demon waiting to be revived. 

“You’re staring. Stop it.” Lydia said as she made corrections in her essay. 

“Sorry.” Stiles went back to his own assignment.

Lydia groaned, “Leave it to you to make silent moping more obnoxious than you actually talking.” She crossed her arms on the desk and leaned toward him. “Spill then, tell me what happened between you two.”

“I kind of don’t want to.”

“Why?”

_ “I just don’t.”  _ He said strictly. 

Lydia’s eyes narrowed as she tilted her head and scrutinized him. “Your quick temper for simply me asking about a conversation you two had implies to me that you are the one at fault and are ashamed and know it was wrong. Am I incorrect?” 

Stiles hand tightened against his quill. “I wasn’t at fault.” 

“Then it was Derek’s.”

“No.”

“Then what the hell are you doing here instead of making out with your boyfriend?”

“It’s complicated.” 

“I got that, thank you. But if neither party is at fault, I don’t see a reason why you two can’t get your heads out of your asses and actually talk.”

Stiles glared as hard as he could.

Lydia was unimpressed. She leaned back into her chair and this time she pulled out her Charms work. “Whatever.” She went back to doing her homework, and thirty minutes in she glanced back at Stiles, “I’ll talk to Boyd.”

“I don’t need you to mom me. I can take care of myself.”

“Of course you can, that’s why you were going to bribe Cora.”

Stiles fought the urge to jump over the table and strangle her. “I can’t believe I ever liked you.”

Lydia’s green eyes narrowed dangerously. “Say: thank you Lydia.” 

Stiles sighed. “Thank you.”

Lydia smiled softly. “Now, c’mon get up.”

“Why?”

“Because I have an apparition class to get to and you aren’t staying in the Ravenclaw Tower by yourself. Morgana, knows what stuff you would pull in here without supervision.”

“Fine.” Stiles gathered his things. 

“Don’t you have training with Yukimura today?”

“I was going to go to the kitchens to grab a bite before I go.” 

Lydia nodded in conformation and both left the Tower. They parted ways at the Grand Staircase and when Stiles finished his meal, thanked the elves, he went outside in the Forest. 

Stiles had come to the Forbidden Forest alone with Yukimura this evening. Kira would have come too but she was often too tired from her apparition lessons to participate. Stiles was not allowed to participate in the instruction because he was not of age or would not be by April. He was a little upset about it as he watched his friends go to the Great Hall in the evenings to practice and the only company he had was Jackson’s and Isaac’s who weren’t of age either. Although, he wasn’t sure he would be able to focus on apparating with everything that had been happening.

“Mr. Stilinski.”

“I’m sorry,” Stiles said as he leaned against the tree for a break. “It’s not working. I tried during the break but I couldn’t do it either. Can’t we go back to making perfect circles?”

“You are now proficient in that.” Yukimura said. “We are focusing on running now.” 

“I can’t do it though. I’ve read the book hundreds of times and my body is just not meant for it.”

Yukimura sighed and then went to go sit on a boulder. “Do you recall how you did it last time?”

“I just knew I needed to get to the others quickly. That’s it.” 

“That sounds simple. That means it’s just a need to go from one point to another, it should be easier than creating mountain ash. Unless you’re not really trying.”Stiles didn’t say anything. “Ok. Our lesson will be dismissed for today.” Stiles nodded. Yukimura stood, “Mr. Stilinski, I should not meddle in the affairs of my students but your recent breakup with your Alpha is affecting your concentration and training. Find a way to deal with it as soon as possible.”

Stiles sighed. “Yeah, whatever. I’m gonna go to Morrell’s.” He picked his things up and left quickly, wanting to talk to someone neutral about his problems. 

 

|~~***~~|

 

When February hit, Scott had called a pack meeting, minus Stiles and Derek of course. Everyone sat around the Room with equal looks of boredom and tiredness. Perhaps, Scott should have planned this better than having them group together on Saturday morning. 

“What are we doing?” Lydia yawned. “I want to go back to bed.”

“We need to get Stiles and Derek back together.” Scott said quickly. “They are both miserable, we should just fix it because they aren’t going to.”

“Are you serious?” Jackson spat. “I’m awake for this?” Jackson stood up and grabbed Lydia’s hand. “Let’s go.” 

“Wait for me.” Cora stood and stretched. “I am not talking about my brother’s and best friend’s love life. That is too weird for me.” Lydia nodded and commented to everyone that she had already tried and whatever they planned was going to be useless. The three then left together. 

Erica waited for the door to close, “Do we really want to get them back together? Stiles is the one who broke up Derek.” She snarled.

“Except Stiles didn’t want to. You can smell depression on both of them. We have to help.” 

“What are we going to do lock them in a room until they talk?” Allison asked.

“If it works, why not?”

“No.” Kira spoke above the others. “It’s not our business and we can make the situation worse. And they aren’t acting mean to each other. They’re talking and being polite, what’s the problem?”

“That is the problem.” Scott said. “Derek and Stiles are never polite. They’re putting up a front.” 

“So?” Boyd cut in, defending Kira. and adding his own input. “Stiles fucked over our Alpha, like everyone knew he would. Why should we get them back together?”

“You are only looking at this from one side,” Scott whined. “Don’t look at it only from Derek’s point of view, please look at it from Stiles’ too.”

“That would be much easier if someone actually told us why they broke up. All we have is Derek closing himself off from everyone and reverting to the way he was before he had a pack.” Erica scoffed. 

“Exactly.” Boyd interrupted. “And as long as our pack dynamics aren’t falling apart, why should we interfere? Yeah, they’re pretty sad, but that’s normal for a breakup and it’s only been what a little over a month. They will get over it.” 

“You don’t know Stiles as well as I do.” Scott continued. “He’s going to bottle these emotions up. He still loves Derek, I can tell and you three are close to Derek,” He directed at the Hufflepuffs, “Derek still has feelings for Stiles right?” Erica and Boyd rolled their eyes. 

“...Yeah,” Isaac answered cautiously. 

“So why are they not together?” Allison asked softly. 

“Because they had an argument.” Kira said. “Let them work it out on their own. That’s what couples are supposed to do. And I don’t think Stiles would like you meddling in his life, especially about something like this.” 

Scott paused, considering Kira’s words. She was right, but it still felt wrong to leave his best friend in such a state. 

“And Derek would definitely not want any of you involved, And Derek would definitely be upset how you have been threatening Stiles,” Kira said to Boyd. 

“I haven’t been threatening him.” Boyd pouted. “All I told him at the start of their relationship was that if he fucked up, there would be consequences. That was all. He broke that, so—”

“—So Derek would then say to stop treating him like a child. He’s the Alpha and would be more than capable of handling himself. Whatever Stiles and Derek have, they at least have an understanding where they aren’t threatening each other, so we don’t have to worry about it.” 

“Why are you being so defensive of them?” Erica cut in. “You barely know them. You’re barely part of this pack.”

“Because Stiles is my friend. All of you are and I was under the impression that friends didn’t fight each other when they needed support instead. If any of them want to talk then we will be there for them. But threatening and scheming to get them back together that’s not right.”

“I agree,” Allison said. “No meddling. Derek would hate us all if we stuck our noses where they shouldn’t be.”

Scott groaned. “Fine, I just wanted to help.”

Kira smiled, “We get it, but you know we shouldn’t either.” 

Scott sighed. He rubbed his head and then announced, “I’m going outside. Away from all this mess.” 

Kira stood abruptly. “Me too. Wait for me at the entrance, I need to go pick up something.”

Scott scrunched his brows. “Ok?”

 

Scott waited awkwardly by the entrance glancing around the empty castle. It was still too early for anyone to be awake, even the ghosts were nowhere to be found. 

He wasn't sure why Kira wanted to go with him in the forest. He had only planned to go running and burn off some steam about the current drama in their lives. His best friend was hurt and no one wanted to help. However, the way Kira defended Stiles spoke volumes of their recent addition the pack.

He heard Kira rushing down the stairs. He saw her with a giant smile and with a katana strapped to her back.

“Ok! Ready!” She said enthusiastically almost as if she hadn't reprimanded the entire pack a few minutes ago.

Kira was sure interesting.

“Yeah, let's go.”

They walked out into the extremely chilly air. Scott was fine with it but he could see Kira immediately shivering.

“I thought foxes lived in cold weather.”

Kira frowned. “I'm not actually a fox. It's part of my aura and spirit.”

“Huh?”

“Basically not a werefox.”

“Oh.” Scott said understanding a little clearer. “Do you think werefoxes exist?”

“I'm not sure. I could look into it for you if you want.”

“No you don't have to do that.” Scott said with amusement, now well aware of Kira’s tirades of research. “So um...why did you bring that?”

“To train. I haven’t been able to use it since we started apparition lessons and my mom was already giving me the evil eye if I didn’t get off my butt.” 

Scott chuckled. 

The two held idle conversation until they reached the forest. Scott scanned the area wondering which direction to go first, but he stopped breathing as he watched Kira unsheath her katana. 

There was a maturity that appeared in her eyes as she began to swing it overhead. The look was the same one when she had been scolding the pack about their Alpha and Stiles’ lives. 

Scott glanced behind and let go of the idea of running to watch Kira train. He sat on the ground with his forearms resting on his knees. 

Kira did strange passes with her sword, but each move was extremely elegant. Curiosity got the better of him and he licked his lips before he looked at her with his werewolf eyes. He could see swirling masses of lightning around her frame and three bolts of light cackling behind her. 

“Are those your tails?” Scott asked, his eyes turning back to brown. 

Kira eeped and then lost her balance. She fell to the ground. “Huh?”

“The lightning behind you?”

Kira looked around. “I’ve never seen my form. I don’t think I can.”

“Oh,” Scott said sadly. “It’s really pretty.”

Kira bit her lip as she stood, “Thank you. Um...are you seeing them with your werewolf eyes?”

“Yeah.”

Kira approached closer. “You know, I’ve never seen you as a werewolf or the others for that matter.”

Scott thought about it and then was reminded that Derek didn’t let Kira or Stiles near them during the full moon. Stiles obviously being in case he had an attack, and Kira because he was worried one of their wolf instincts would try to attack her. Scott didn’t see that happening.

“Can I see it?” Kira asked suddenly.

“See what?”

“Your werewolf form.”

“Um…” Scott felt increasingly self conscious, especially as Kira sat cross legged in front of him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why?” She glanced shyly at her sword. “I can defend myself you know.”

Scott chuckled. “I know you can. I just saw you defend yourself against the pack to protect Derek and Stiles.”

Kira blushed and gasped. She buried her face in her hands. “I can’t believe I did that! That was so embarrassing. Merlin, what if they hate me now? What if they think I’m stuck up? I shouldn’t have scolded them. They are his Betas after all, and oh no, what if this gets back to Derek and then he yells at me for trying to order his pack,” Kira pulled at her hair.

Scott reached out and tugged her hands away from her long hair. He set them on her thighs and pulled back. “Calm down, nothing is going to happen. You did good.” 

“But—”

“You did good.” Scott assured. He rubbed the back of his neck. “You know it’s not pretty.”

Kira took small tiny breaths as she calmed herself. “I don’t think anyone in this pack ugly.”

Scott sighed. “Ok, but don’t freak out.”

Kira nodded, sitting a little straighter. 

Scott called out on the wolf and within seconds, his Beta form emerged.

Instantly, Kira reached tentatively to cup his face. Her small hands ran along his cheek to his nose, his eyelids, and to his eyebrows. Scott wanted to pull away from the touch and for some strange reason he realized no one had ever done this. Not even Allison, he couldn’t recall ever showing her his werewolf form willingly. But with Kira she was treating him with so much care and— 

He broke out of musings when he heard Kira confidently say, “You’re beautiful.” 

All Scott could do was blink. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I said I wasn't going to break Stiles and Derek up? Uh oops. Yeah...I don't know how this happened. It wasn't my intention, my characters got out of control very quickly. Please don't hurt me. 
> 
> Tell me what you think of this chapter! Also Lydia and Kira were super fun to write this chapter idk why.


	54. Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Derek and Stiles continue to avoid having a real conversation, others begin to bloom.

Derek always found comfort within the walls of the Gryffindor Common Room. Coziness and warmth radiated similarly to that of the Hufflepuff one, but the random dark nooks in the room allowed one to enjoy peace in solidarity that the bright Hufflepuff room did not allow. In the corner of the room, Derek had his head against the red wingback chair as Cora and Allison sat in front of him on the floor.

An Exploding Snap deck lay beside the two. Allison had grown bored with the game when Cora had kept winning. Now, the two enjoyed their time with Allison teaching Cora how to do intricate braids alongside her head. 

Derek recalled Laura attempting a similar instruction with Cora a few summers ago, but all of Laura’s braids made Cora look like a little girl. Allison had a better grasp on Cora’s tastes. The braids made Cora look edgy. 

“You look dumb,” Derek said aloud.

Cora snapped her head to him and only winced a little when Allison accidentally tugged her hair. “You look like shit.” She fought back. 

Derek shrugged. The fight he had wanted to make dwindled quickly. The usual banter between his younger sister didn’t feel honest when Derek as Cora put it, did feel like shit.

“You sort of do,” Allison spoke softly. “Have you been sleeping?”

It was the first time someone had asked Derek about his physical being instead of his emotional state. “No, I’ve been studying for NEWTs all night. They’re less than three months away and I need to pass them.”

“Really?” Cora smiled. “Since when do you care about grades?”

Derek rolled his eyes and chose not to answer. Instead, he looked to the staircase leading to the girls’ dormitory. He heard pairs of feet rushing down to the common room. 

Heather and Danielle were decked in their Quidditch gear running toward them. “Cora!” Heather shouted. “The Hufflepuffs are taking the Quidditch pitch.”

“What?” Cora shot up to her feet. “They know we have the pitch in less than an hour right?” She rushed to the window that gave a view of the pitch. “Oh  _ hell _ no!” 

“Maybe Theo is trying to rile you up.” Danielle suggested. “You promised him a joint practice and we still haven’t had one.”

“I wasn’t serious.” Cora declared. “And why would he try to rile me up?”

Heather and Danielle shared a look. Allison only giggled as quietly as she could without drawing attention.

“Whatever,” Cora scoffed. “Danielle come with me. I’m going to give Theo a piece of my mind. Heather go find the others.”

“Aye Captain!” Heather declared, rushing up the stairs to the boys’ dormitory. 

Derek watched the rush of activity until only him and Allison were left alone. Derek sighed, getting up to go but Allison spoke up quickly. 

“What NEWTs are you most worried for?” 

Derek stayed rooted to the seat. He didn’t really want to speak with anyone at the moment. He had only come to the room, because he was annoyed by Erica’s and Boyd’s parenting. Allison and Cora had been the least likely to do that and the least likely to take sides. So he had gone with them. 

He debated quickly the cons of engaging in small talk with her and just decided to live with it. “Transfiguration.”

“I thought you were good at it?”

“I am but Yukimura’s classes are difficult which makes me worried for the exam.”

“The exam should be easier then,” Allison tried to joke. “Do you have any plans after graduation?”

Derek shrugged. He had thought about it very briefly, but there was too much to worry about in present condition to worry about future promises. 

“Well um...my dad was telling me the other day that one of his friends from Norway is looking for a DADA apprentice in the fall, and my dad told me to ask you.”

Derek’s eyes scrunched. “What?” He hadn’t expected that. 

“Apprenticeship in fall, she just got her certification as a Master and wants to start her own research with—”

“—Does she know that I’m a…”

“Oh yeah!” Allison spoke loudly. She looked around the common room and spotted a few first years by the main fireplace. “She’s a...too.”

“Really?”

Allison nodded.

Derek leaned back against the chair. The idea of future was preposterous but...setting plans in the future seemed surreal and also comforting. It was as if everything in the world didn’t turn out ok, he would have that going for him. That seemed nice since everything in his own life seemed to be falling apart. Maybe after graduation things would go well—a new start, perhaps. “Ok.”

“Seriously?” Derek could see she didn’t mean to laugh. 

“Yeah. I’ll do it.”

“Great. I’ll tell my dad. I’m sure she will love working with you and by the fact that you already have teaching experience with advanced spellwork, she will—”

“—I’m sorry what teaching experience?”

“Teaching um…” Derek saw how the next words made her uncomfortable, “Teaching Stiles how to do a patronus.”

At the mention of his name, Derek wanted to leave. He turned to glance at the tacky wallpaper beside him. He could feel his mood turning sour at the mention of his ex-boyfriend. 

“It would be amazing if you could teach me how to do a patronus too!” Allison said quickly. Derek smelled worry seeping from her. It made him appreciate that she was trying to sincerely take his mind off the situation. 

He did his best to play along. “I thought your dad would have taught you.”

“He hasn’t been able to make a patronus in years.” She muttered. “So there’s no one to teach me. I know the theory of it, but a patronus usually requires a teacher...Who taught you?”

“Myself.”

“That’s incredible, Derek.”

Derek finally gave Allison the eye contact she deserved. She was looking at him with awe and admiration. Her lips tugged into a large toothed smile. Kate Argent flashed behind his eyes. They had the same smile. However, there was nothing malicious behind Allison’s. He shook his head to get rid of the image. 

Allison wasn’t Kate Argent. He knew that. The ex-Hunter had risked her own life to save his. Only genuine care, protectiveness, and a large daring nerve surrounded her. Derek snorted as it became clear who Allison was. She was going to carry that lighted torch and burn it against the dark—almost black name.  And her movements would not be stately, he knew she would burn the whole name if she could. 

“I can teach you,” Derek decided to reply, “I have some time available next week.” 

Allison stood. “I can’t wait.” She looked over at the giant clock in the common room then back to him. “Want to head out for lunch together?”

Derek shrugged, standing up too. 

Derek found small talk with Allison untiring, which was very strange. She had this uncanny ability of shifting conversations seamlessly and gauging people’s reactions. So when Derek headed down the stairs with her, he felt like Allison cared for him in a way that wasn’t suffocating. 

Derek and Allison at the Gryffindor table. In the middle of their conversation, Derek saw Boyd standing stiffly behind Allison. 

Derek only looked up at him. Boyd seemed to wait for Derek to address him, but Derek wasn’t going to have that after his recent behavior. He went back to his food and complained with Allison about their Herbology work. 

Boyd looked awkward and he glanced over at the Ravenclaw table before finally sitting next to Allison. He didn’t grab any food, instead he crossed his arms on the table and leaned toward Derek.

“Look, Lydia and Kira told me I had to apologize,” Boyd said.

Derek shrugged, “What for?”

“I was threatening Stiles for breaking up with you.”

Derek had seen the confrontations between the two but chose to stay out of it. “Why are you apologizing to me?”

“Because Lydia and Kira said I should.”

Allison pouted, “You know they probably meant apologizing to Stiles.”

Boyd rolled his eyes, “I don’t want to. I’m apologizing to someone, which should count. And I wanted to give my two cents for your little fight or whatever. You and Stiles need to talk.”

“I think,” Allison spoke up again, “That everyone should stop interfering.” She looked at Derek. “If you aren’t ready to talk, you do realize that’s fine? Don’t feel pressured because they say so.”

Boyd groaned. “Stop coddling him. He’s an adult he needs to act like one and confront the issue.”

“I’m not ready,” Derek said. “So leave.”

Boyd rolled his eyes one last time before he left the table. 

“Thank you,” Derek spoke when Boyd went to the Ravenclaw table.

“You’re welcome. Just talk whenever you want to.”

 

|~~***~~|

 

Stiles woke up with a sore throat that morning. He coughed a few times to unlodge the uncomfortable feeling in his throat, but it didn’t really work. He climbed out of bed and went immediately to take a hot steamy shower. 

Still sleepy, Stiles leaned against the shower tile instead of scrubbing himself clean. It wasn’t like he was that dirty anyway, right? He took a shower yesterday. He shut off the water when he heard Danny shout to hurry up, they were going to be late for breakfast. 

He changed quickly and headed with Jackson and Danny to the Great Hall. All three of them showed up late, they had been studying for their Herbology test all of last night. Stiles saw at the Hufflepuff table, Isaac speaking with Scott, and Cora speaking with Allison. It wasn’t anything new to see his two best friends talking to other people, but lately, he had noticed Scott and Cora always had previous engagements with other people. 

It wasn’t like they were doing it on purpose. Stiles knew this, it was only because his friends had adopted new routines when he and Derek had been together. It was only natural for them carry on the new friendships they made while Stiles was away. 

Reaching for a slice of toast, Stiles caught Derek’s eyes. Stiles nodded, grabbed the toast and asked the others if they were ready to head to the greenhouse. Erica jumped out of her seat excitedly. 

“I’m so going to get a perfect,” Erica cheered, dragging Isaac out of his seat.

Stiles gave one final look to Derek before leaving with the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs outside. The rush of cold air and drizzle did nothing to help his sore throat. It ached even more, and Stiles made a mental note to visit the Hospital Wing for some potions, despite he hated the taste. He looked off to the side and watched as Erica complained about how her hair was going to frizz. Isaac recommended her some products. Boyd and Stiles scoffed and shared an amused look, while Jackson whined that the cheap products he kept using was going to make him bald within three years. 

Arriving at the greenhouse, Stiles went to his usual area and waited for Morrell to appear. She walked into the greenhouse with a giant yawn. All the students stared at her with awe and shock. Morrell never displayed anything other than a regal respecting presence. The only one who knew better was Stiles.

He had went to her office yesterday, hoping to get some test questions out of her, but to Stiles’ delight Morrell had not written the test yet. She said she had been too busy to do it. So Stiles only only assumed, she spent all night working on the test as they had been studying for it. 

The thought made Stiles laugh aloud.

Everyone then turned to him. Morrell gave him a look, “Sorry,” Stiles chuckled. 

His laughter died down when Boyd elbowed him in the ribs. Morrell calmly reached for her bag and pulled out sheets of parchment, handing them down to each student on instructions for their care on Venomous Tentacula. Stiles and many of the other students chuckled when they read at the top corner of the parchment Morrell had left a note saying students were allowed to swear loudly if the plant seized them from behind. 

The students were given five minutes to read the instructions before they began the exam. 

Stiles tried to be as subtle as possible as he observed how Erica treated the plant, but Morrell knew him very well and when she saw Stiles look over his shoulder pretending to sneeze, Morrell grabbed him by the arm and moved him to a different spot.

Overall, when the exam was done Stiles didn’t feel he had done that bad. Everyone put their stuff away and Morrell began a new lesson after the test. When double Herbology was over, Stiles and the pack went to lunch. 

Stiles was ready to group together with everyone at the Slytherin table as they had been doing for the past few weeks, but Stiles paused when he saw the Hufflepuffs go to their own table, and Jackson and Danny head to the Ravenclaw one to join Kira and Lydia.

Stiles stood like an idiot in the Great Hall. He couldn’t recall the last time the pack had separated to eat. Where was he supposed to go? He considered going to the Gryffindor one, but Scott, Allison, and Cora were nowhere to be seen. He resigned himself to go to the Slytherin one to eat by himself, but then he caught sight of Brett waving happily at him.

_ Hell no. _ He needed to get out of there.

He turned on his heel as quickly as he could and bolted out of the Great Hall. When he made it to the stairs, Stiles cursed, scaring a group of first year girls on their way to lunch. Stiles smiled sheepishly at them and waved awkwardly. As the girls turned the corner, Stiles stomach lurched as he remembered he had only had a piece of toast the entire day. 

Sucking it up and putting on some Slytherin courage, Stiles bypassed completely the Great Hall and went to the kitchens instead.

He busted through the portrait of a bowl and fruit but his feet refused to cooperate when he saw Derek eating what looked like spaghetti in the middle of the floor with Ms. Miguel ecstatically eating some garlic bread.

Derek paused mid slurp of his noodle and he looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

_ Fuck.  _

Food or avoid confrontation?

His stomach rumbled again. Derek finished slurping his spaghetti. Stiles coughed awkwardly. An elf noticed him and rushed to him, asking what he would like to eat. Stiles only asked for what was already made. He got his own plate of spaghetti and bread. Stiles considered leaving the kitchen, but he knew that would be extremely rude. 

He made his way over and sat next to Derek. Ms. Miguel made some weird noise at his presence and when she saw more bread she rolled toward Stiles’ plate.

Stiles waited for Derek to break the silence, but all he did was eat while Stiles rolled the spaghetti around with his fork.

Since, Derek wasn’t going to talk, “I’m sorry I yelled at you back at the library.” Stiles waited for Derek to say something, but he continued eating. “Dude.”

“What?” Derek finally stopped chewing and just stared. 

“Say something.”

“Like?”

“I don’t know. Like maybe, Stiles that’s ok, I forgive you. I’m sorry too.”

“But how can I forgive you? I don’t know what you are apologizing for. For yelling? Calling me a fuck up?”

Stiles scoffed. “I didn’t call you a fuck up.”

“Yes, you did.”

Stiles inhaled a large breath, “I didn’t mean you were a fuck up.”

“Then my actions were?”

“Yes.” Stiles corrected.

“Great, thank you for clearing up that confusion.” 

Derek stood up, leaving his plate unattended on the floor. Ms. Miguel rolled to him and latched onto his pant leg. Derek bent down to pick her up and place her in his pocket.

“Where are you going?” Stiles asked, looking up at him.

“I don’t want to be around someone who considers my actions fuck ups.” Derek made to leave, but then he froze, and muttered “I did the best I could.”

“To what? Not yell and accuse me of shit.”

“No...that’s not—whatever.” 

When Derek finally left the kitchens, Stiles groaned.  _ “Shit.” _ His hands pulled at his hair. “He thinks I was calling his time with Paige a fuck up. Dammit.”  Stiles looked down at his plate and realized he could no longer stomach it. He reached out for his belongings and headed to Potions. 

 

|~~***~~|

 

It was a rare time for Scott and Stiles to find sometime to themselves. Truthfully though, Scott had been ignoring Stiles purposefully. He had been hoping that with Stiles lack of communications with others, it would force him to seek out Derek and talk out whatever problem they had been having.

It seemed like the most rational solution. After all, when he and Allison talked out, even very briefly, everything felt much better and less awkward. He was hoping a talk with Derek would get them back together or at least move on, but it seemed like Stiles was doing neither.

Scott stopped running and looked behind himself, waiting for Stiles to catch up.

The two were running in the Forbidden Forest for some bro time, but also because Stiles said he needed practice with his Moonwalker magic. Apparently, Yukimura had been ignoring his pleas for help and was now refusing him instruction because he was constantly distracted. 

“I can’t do it man,” Stiles panted when he got near Scott.

Scott jogged to him. “You just need more practice.”

“No. I don’t even know why I’m practicing so hard. The book says this technique only lasts about thirty seconds, a minute max, and it takes way too magic out of you. It’s useless. I should tell Yukimura we should focus on other training stuff.”

Scott sighed fondly at his friend’s complaints. He began walking toward the Blake Lake and only checked once if Stiles was following him. “You should keep practicing. It will be cool if you can run with us even if it’s for a little bit.” 

“Eh.”

“What are the book’s instructions?”

“I don’t know dude. Rhea’s son thinks he’s Aristotle or some philosophical crap like that. At least Rhea was much more to the point than him. All he talks about is that ‘to run, let the magic burn out. Push out the excess and let your feet jump across the dark caverns onto a single path.’ Nonsense like that, I'm starting to wonder if he’s talking about potion ingredients though.”

“Dude,” Scott decided to steal Stiles’ favorite word. “Are you serious?”

“What do you mean, I’m serious? Of course I am.”

“The passage isn’t that hard to analyze.”

Stiles stopped walking and began to laugh. “Alright well-renowned literary analyst give me your interpretation on millennium old texts.” 

Scott rolled his eyes and continued walking until he reached a secluded part of the Blake Lake. Stiles ended up following him. “All it means is that to be able to run quickly you need to forget your troubles and dark pasts and just move past it  and focus on a single goal. It’s not that hard to figure out.”

Stiles glared at him. He plopped down on the ground and stared out into the Blake Lake. Scott sighed and looked around the area for some smooth rocks. He found a few and then began to skip them across the Blake Lake. “You do realize,” Scott watched the stone skip twice. “This means you need to talk Derek.”

Stiles groaned loudly. 

He fell back against the moist ground. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Cause each time I open my mouth, my ass likes to speak before I do.”

“So you have tried?”

“Yup. I talked to my dad about it and he says that we both need to mature, but I don’t know how to do that.”

“Well you not talking would probably be one of it.”

“What?” Stiles sat up. “You just said I need to talk to him.”

“And talking with him just might involve listening to what he has to say. Maybe Derek has to be the one to start the conversation before anything goes anywhere.” Scott threw another stone.

“When did you become the expert in relationships?” 

Scott shrugged and then looked over at Stiles when he stood. Scott handed him a stone. Stiles flicked his wrist and it jumped three times. Scott still had no idea how Stiles did that. 

“I guess this goes back to plan A, I wait for Derek to come to me.”

Scott started laughing. He felt incredibly guilty, but then Stiles started laughing too.

“Yeah, this is going to take forever.” Stiles said as he looked around for more stones. “What about you?”

“What do you mean?” Scott was genuinely confused.

“You and Kira. Both of you have been going into the woods late at night, right?”

“How do you know that?” Scott’s voice was filled with panic. 

“Kira told Lydia and Lydia told me. Why are  _ you _ freaked out about it? It sounds like you got something to hide.” Stiles grinned. 

Scott looked away from Stiles and skipped another stone. “She called me...um…” He twirled the final stone in his hand, “...beautiful.” 

Stiles bent over as he laughed, “Dude, that is so gay.”

“Says the guy who gave me a gross description of Derek’s dick.”

Stiles pretended to wipe his tears. “Sorry, ok give me the context of this whole beautiful thing. I’ll stop laughing.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “She said it to me when she saw my werewolf form.”

_ “Fuck.” _

“What?” Scott’s head snapped to his friend. What did that mean? 

“Nothing...keep going. What did you do after?”

A lingering panic resided in him. “I said thank you. How do you reply to someone calling you beautiful?”

Stiles shrugged. “Who knows? That sounds like serious shit.”

“I know. I kind of ignored it and I went back to watching her train. She’s scarily amazing by the way.”

Stiles nodded, “Do you like her? If you do, we need to have a serious conversation about your type.”

“I don’t know. No one’s ever said something like that to me. It felt...nice? But even if I did like her, she obviously doesn’t like me. She’s into Boyd right? Which I don’t understand how he can now have two attractive girls into him and not have a single clue about it.”

“Nah. She’s not into him. I’ve asked before. Are you considering in pursuing something with Kira?”

Scott shook his head, “I really don’t know. I feel like I’m just going to see where this goes. I mean…” Scott let a stone drop beside him as he tucked his hands into his pockets. “I rushed things with Allison. I don’t want to do that again.”

“Seems fair.” Stiles grinned at him. “You and Kira would make the dorkiest couple.”

Scott laughed, “Yeah, Isaac said that too.”

“You engage in heart to heart conversations with Isaac often?”

Scott shoved his friend with a chuckle. 

“Hey watch it!” Stiles shouted, nearly falling into the water. 

“Wanna keep practicing?”

Stiles sighed, but nodded. “Yeah.”

“Cool, I’ll race you back to the Whomping Willow.” Scott took off with werewolf speed, laughing aloud as Stiles chased after him as best he could. He couldn’t permanently fix his best friend’s mood, but he could at least try. 

  
  


|~~***~~|

 

Allison’s thighs burned as she climbed the astronomy tower. She made a mental note to begin training with her father again, she was getting out of shape. After a gruesome ten minutes on the stairs, Allison finally made it. She pushed open the door and dropped her bag on a desk. She shuffled around looking for a notebook and quill. 

She grabbed her supplies and headed to the window looking for the elusive Jobberknoll bird. She had read the passage in her book and learned they liked to nest in extreme heights, so Allison searched for the highest place she could find. However, searching out the window for nearly five minutes proved futile, because she couldn’t find any bird. 

She groaned. She set her head against the window and looked at the empty classroom. It was early Sunday morning, hours before anyone would even wake up, and it was supposed to be the time when Joberknolls liked to come out. 

“Come on bird, don’t make me wake up for nothing.” Allison sighed.

_ “Talking to yourself?” _

Allison sat up sharply. She saw Isaac standing at the doorway with a giant grin on his face.

She leaned back against the window. “Yeah.” 

“Are you looking for the Joberknoll?”

“Yup.” She looked outside. “No luck. I thought I would find it here.”

“We probably have to head outside.” Isaac said. He walked into the classroom and set his bag next to Allison’s. He walked over to her and nudged her to side. He popped open the window.

“What are you doing?”

“Going outside.”

Allison scoffed. “You’re crazy.”

He thought it over, “Yeah probably.” He stuck half his body out and looked up. “I think I see a nest up there. Want to check it out?”

“Again you’re crazy.”

Isaac pulled himself back inside. “Maybe, but I’m not the one who needs a passing grade for Care of Magical Creatures.”

Allison sighed, “I regret not dropping the class, like the others did.”

“It’s a fun class,” Isaac retorted. “Don’t you think it's interesting at all?”

“No, not really.”

“Of course, you just hunt creatures.”

Allison wanted to be hurt by the comment, but she could see something mischievous in Isaac’s eyes. She recalled the full moon was nearing and Isaac’s mood tended to shift because of it. Allison ended up chuckling, “I don’t hunt birds.”

“Great, cause I love them. Are you sure you don’t want to go outside? There’s a ledge right over us we can climb on.”

Allison thought it over very briefly. “I really do need that passing grade.”

“Awesome.” Isaac climbed out first and Allison chuckled as she saw his legs dangle out the window for a few moments. “Ok! Your turn! I’ll pull you up.”

Allison set her notebook to the side and went to the window. She climbed out with her upper body facing the sky. She could see Isaac right above her. He extended a hand down and Allison gripped his wrist tightly. He pulled her up without effort. 

The two were crowded on the tiny ledge, but then Isaac climbed a little higher onto a small awning on the side of the tower, where there were imprints of where statues used to be. When he made it safely, Isaac extended his arm again. Allison took it and jumped to the other side.

Isaac smiled and Allison rolled her eyes. They sat down on the awning, thighs and arms touching. A few feet away from them, Allison saw a nest with a tiny blue bird grooming itself. Allison smiled. She examined the bird in silence with Isaac, making mental notes when she would have to head back into the empty classroom. 

They were silent for nearly an hour just watching the bird as the sun began to rise. When the sun began to prickle on their skin, Allison and Isaac watched the bird wiggle itself and then fly off into a new location.

Isaac continued staring at the empty nest and Allison remained sitting with him. After a while though, Allison could not ignore the heat emanating from Isaac’s body. 

“Can I ask a personal question?” Allison dived in head first.

“Do you have to?” Isaac said hesitantly. 

“I guess not.” She looked over at him and saw him shyly play with his fingers. She smiled, “I’m going to ask anyway. I noticed you don’t let other people touch you often, but why are you ok with this?” She motioned to their bodies.

“Cause it’s required so I don’t fall to my death?”

Allison snorted.

Isaac did too, “But in all seriousness,” Isaac continued, “It’s cause I initiated the touch to begin with.”

“Oh. What about you  _ touching  _ Heather?” Isaac shot her an amused look. “Sorry, I’m prying too much.”

“You are. What has you all interested all of a sudden?”

Allison shrugged, “I’m not sure. I’ve just...I’ve realized I’ve never talked to you and you’ve been talking a lot to Scott lately.”

“ _ Oh, _ so this is about Scott.”

“No. Scott and I aren’t like that anymore. Scott and I we’re just close friends. And as his friend, I’ve noticed, despite how nice he is, he doesn’t get intimately close with others. The only people I’ve seen Scott intimately close with is Stiles and Cora...and now you.” 

“You want to see what makes me so special that our Golden Gryffindor boy would even want to spend time with me?” 

She saw his eyes flicker gold for a second. “No. Scott is branching out to others in the pack and I think I should do that too. I started a little with Derek. I just...I feel like we need to try to strengthen our ties as much as possible now that…”

“Derek and Stiles broke up.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m glad I’m not the only one who's noticed. The pack is starting to break off again.”

“Yeah it’s cause the glue isn’t there.”

“Huh?”

“Lydia called Stiles the glue one time, I can see why now.”

Isaac nodded in acknowledgement. “Well with Heather, I initiated everything. Each time she tried to touch me I would back away and she kind of picked up on it. Surprisingly, she never got mad and was cool with it.”

“Was?” Allison questioned, picking up quickly that Isaac was going to try form a close tie with her. 

“Yeah, I haven’t had time with Heather since the dance. I like her and all but never to make it official. She feels the same way too, I imagine.”

“You’re right.” Isaac looked at  Allison strangely. “Heather likes to tell us everything in the dormitory, which is how I knew you two had something. Cora threw pillows at her to shut up before she could get into details.”

Isaac snorted. “What about you then?”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t get close to others too. Why’s that?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Yeah it probably has to do with the reason you shot me with an arrow while you tried to kill Derek.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“You’re forgiven...mostly.” Isaac grinned. 

Allison sighed and proceeded to tell him the long story about her complicated relationship with her deceased mother. “...She never abused me though.” Allison finished awkwardly. 

“Not physically, but emotionally she did,” Isaac cut her off after Allison had been talking for a good fifteen minutes straight. 

Allison agreed. She hadn’t thought of it that way. She glanced over at Isaac, “How did you come to terms that your father was abusing you, most abuse victims don’t see it as that.” 

“I think we do. We know we’re getting abused, but it’s really complicated. You come home and your dad is screaming at you because you forgot a pair of shoes at school. He points his wand at your throat and forces you into the cellar where there is a tiny dumbwaiter. He’s screaming how forgetful you are and the only way to make that tiny little brain of yours work is to be punished and remember that punishment to not forget important things like shoes. He closes the lid of the dumbwaiter and you hear him utter a spell locking it from all sides. You’re cramped in a tiny little space for hours, it starts to get cold and your knees by your ears begin to ache. Suddenly, the door to the dumbwaiter opens and you see your dad crying, telling you that he is so sorry for putting you through that, all he wants is what is best for you. He takes you back upstairs into the kitchen and cooks you your favorite meal and then he tucks in you in at night. He says he loves you and the same treatment starts all over again. It’s confusing. You know that his behavior is off when you see that none of the other kids have scars and bruises. You are the only one with them, but he does them out love so he has to be ok. He’s justified. After all, he did all that because you deserved that punishment. But that’s what you have to tell yourself to survive. If you don’t justify it and you tell someone you are getting abused there is this fear that the punishment is going to be much worse and if it's not people are going to look down on you like some pathetic thing.”  

Allison smiled bitterly. “I get it. It's the same feelings toward my mother.” She swallowed saliva. “How did you move past it?”

“I haven’t.” Isaac spoke softly. “I’m slowly starting to I think.”

“How?”

“Time? Talking it out? I don’t know? Morrell offered if I wanted to talk and I said no.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Does it really matter? He’s dead now.”

“But doesn’t it still affect you? I mean the whole touching—”

Isaac interrupted, “Everyday it affects me but at this point in my life, I'm not ready to talk about it, I'm complacent which is a state I'm more than thankful for. It’s much better than when Derek used to let me do what I want. Now, he disciplines me fairly when I do something wrong. He takes away house points, detention, or if it we are at home, he revokes my telly privileges. It's little things like that that make me doubt my messed up head and say, hey maybe I didn’t deserve to get hold up in the cellar without food. Little things like that will slowly help me get ready to talk more about it, but now I’m not ready to tell someone what exactly goes on in my head.”

“If it makes any difference and it may not, but I’m here if you ever want to talk. I can’t give advice cause I’m screwed up in the head too, but I manage, I think.”

She looked over at him and gave him a soft smile. She watched his eyes soften and she was taken by surprise when her vision blurred. She felt his lips touch her own for no more than three seconds before he pulled back. 

“Sorry,” Isaac said. “All that emotional talk...just...I was in the moment.”

“Talking about our screwed up lives puts you in the moment?”

“Yeah that’s one of my kinks, you know.”

Allison rolled her eyes fondly.

“Hey!” Isaac retorted. “Don’t kinkshame me. I was really in the moment, I’ve never talked about stuff like that with anyone.”

“I get it. I haven’t either.”

“Not even with Scott?”

“Not really.”

_ “Oh.” _

Allison mulled that over as well. Something about this kiss was different than the ones she had with Isaac. She couldn’t place it yet, but something with Isaac didn’t feel rushed or unknowing. He knew she was a hunter. She knew his circumstance. And this was far more intimate than Scott knowing her favorite Bertie Bott’s Flavor Bean, or her knowing his favorite color at the start of the relationship. 

“Can…” Allison whispered. “Can we try again?”

Isaac scrunched his face. “Are you ok with that? You’re not going to push me off the ledge right.”

“I’ll restrain the urge.”

Isaac’s lips turned at the corner of his mouth and Allison this time found herself leaning into him. The kiss was really innocent. Nothing Allison had experienced. Their lips barely moved, it was more of feeling the warmth the other gave. After less than a minute both pulled back. 

Allison hid her smile, “We should go down if we want breakfast.”

“Yeah.” Isaac said slowly. 

Isaac helped her climb down.

Without even saying a word, the two continued to have their conversations. Every weekend, the two would return to the astronomy tower, (no longer climbing—it was raining season of course) and would talk for hours. They would talk about trivial things, then things about their families, and then what they had noticed during the day. It was nice to have this intimate companionship and what it made it better, the two were not rushing head first into it. They did not kiss again, although they had gotten bold to lean on each other as they spoke. 

It was just nice to get to know someone in the same level they knew themselves. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I avoided Derek having troubles with his anchor mainly because I didn't want to repeat the same story line that Scott had. 
> 
> Sorry chapter is short, but next chapter is going to be short(er) too. Looking at my outline, the two chapters didn't mesh well together. 
> 
> So review and comment please!
> 
> *school is starting on monday, so please be patient with uploads. If you have any questions about my story send me an ask on my tumblr @twinklingpaopufruit


	55. Still You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I’m feeling ill (feeling ill) do I crave it, I don’t know_   
>  _It's still you, still feeling you, all about you still...._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I SWEAR TO GOD ANYONE WHO KNOWS WHERE THIS CHAPTER TITLE IS FROM I WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER. IT IS MY TOP FAVORITE THING IN THE WORLD (you know if you follow me on tumblr) AND IF YOU DO HAPPEN TO FIND IT AND WATCH IT, SIT BACK, AND ENJOY THE GAY!
> 
> Random note...It's mid March in my story about now...

Saturday morning hit a lot sooner than expected. Stiles rolled around in his sheets, vague images of arrows dashing and then falling from his conscious. The promise of a class free day forced Stiles to let go of the image.

He licked his lips, moistening his pillow case. His mouth was dry and his throat was still aching. Fuck. For the past few weeks, he kept forgetting to visit the Hospital Wing for some potions. His school schedule was too hectic and when he did have free time he was too lazy to leave the comfort of the dungeons and venture up the stairs. He had been hoping that the _Yuki Ocha_ would help his throat but all it did was leave a chilly feel most likely worsening the Wizard Flu that wanted to take over his body.

He made a vow to go to the Hospital Wing after his shower. This was getting ridiculous.

_“Hey Stiles.”_

Stiles moaned into his pillow, recognizing the voice. “Who let you in?”

“Danny did.” Brett answered. “He’s gone now.”

“Where the fuck is Jackson?” Jackson would have never let this one slither into their room.

“I don’t know. I’m assuming he went on a date with Lydia.”

Stiles lifted his head and saw Brett in sleek navy blue robes. He dropped his head again. “What are you doing in here?”

Silence.

Oh no. That couldn’t be good. Stiles finally sat up and stared at Brett. “If you don’t tell me what you are doing in my room, I’m going to be pulling sickles from your nostrils.”

Brett shrinked and then awkwardly rubbed the back of his head, “You said you would go on a date with me?”

It took a while for Stiles to process that ludicrous statement this early in the morning. “I’m sorry what?”

“You promised that if you and Derek didn’t work out…”

“Oh no!” Stiles shouted. “No! I am not going on a date with you.” Stiles kicked off the covers and let his legs dangle off the bed.

“That’s why I came in here to ask if you wanted to...but guess not,” Brett stepped back.

“Wait, you're asking?” Stiles laughed. “Brett Talbot?! Pureblood and heir to Merlin knows what, is actually asking?”

Brett shrugged and then smirked, “Danny said it would help if I asked instead.”

Stiles spluttered, “He said what?”

“Does that change your opinion?” Brett asked with confusion as Stiles stood and began to wave his arms around.

“No it doesn’t. I’m going to go change and then head to the Quidditch pitch to practice on my own, just like I planned to last night.”

“Can I come with it?”

“No. This isn’t a date, Brett.”

“Since when do people take their dates to the Quidditch pitch?”

Stiles stopped moving spastically. No one did. Well, unless it was in the middle of the night and at the end of the year when the weather allowed one to screw under the stands without fear of someone's dick or nipple from freezing and falling off. Since it was still dead ass in the morning and the March chill was bustling outside, the circumstances did not permit what Brett had in mind. So he settled, “Right. Jackson did mention he wanted you to train more since we think Reddick might be suspended for a bit because he failed Yukimura’s test.”

“How did someone fail her test? They’re easy.”

Stiles’ eye twitched at Brett’s admission. Easy? Yukimura’s test were like telling someone to ride a broom in a snowstorm and ask them find the snitch. _That wasn’t easy!_ Stiles took a large breath. “Ok. We are going to the pitch.”

“Cool. I’m going to go change.”

Stiles saw a smug grin tugging at Brett’s face into a lopsided anchor. “This isn’t a date!” Stiles shouted as Brett left the room.

 

|~~***~~|

 

The stinging sensation in his shoulder told Stiles, Brett had improved in his aim. Stiles did a complicated turn and avoided the Bludger coming his way. Brett only fumbled for two seconds throwing the next Bludger. If they had been playing against Gryffindor, the Chasers would have already been in the opposite side of the pitch.

Stiles flew mindlessly as he thought of ways to help Brett. He recalled the way that Unger and Reddick relied on angles. They always said no matter how crazy the Bludger was, it still moved in predictable ways despite what people thought. The trick was to stay in a triangle as one flew, keeping the Chaser as the third angle.

Stiles flew back to Brett and gave him a few instructions on how to do this. Stiles was surprised that Brett didn’t make any sexual remarks as he climbed onto Brett’s broom and taught him how to move the broom in sharp turns just as Jackson had shown him in fourth year. Brett was actually attentive and only spoke when he had questions.

Stiles was immediately suspicious but he wasn’t going to look a Hippogriff’s gift in the mouth.

The two practiced for another hour and half until they spotted the Ravenclaw team walking toward the pitch for their allotted time slot.

Both dismounted their brooms. Brett flirted with the girls who only rolled their eyes while Stiles only tamely greeted them. Stiles and Brett began the cold walk back to the castle as they talked about Quidditch scores for the World Cup. When they arrived inside, Brett and Stiles immediately went to the Great Hall for some lunch.

The Great Hall was mostly vacant, most people spent their time in Hogsmeade during the weekend. This made Stiles think of Derek. He could have been there with him.

“You ok?” Brett asked.

“I guess.” Stiles said, reaching for the warm hot chocolate sitting in the middle of the Slytherin table. Both took their seats opposite of each others and munched off random foods. As Stiles was going to shove a random piece of food in his mouth, a rapid warm sensation hit his body. He dropped his fork and turned to the source.

He saw Derek standing at the entrance, staring right at him _and_ Brett.

 _Crap_.

Stiles was nowhere near quick or brave enough to stop Derek from leaving.

Stiles sighed.

“It looks like he still has feelings for you,” Brett said nonchalantly.

“I know.”

“...And apparently so do you?”

“Yeah.”

“So why aren’t you two together?”

Stiles looked up at him, “You’re kidding right? You think I’m going to tell you my relationship problems?”

“Who else are you going to tell? Your friends? They’ve been ditching you trying to make you talk to your ex.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, yes, he had noticed that as well. “I’m not telling anyone.”

“That can’t be healthy.”

Stiles remembered his aching throat. “Nothing’s healthy. Everything is bad for you anyway.”

“Whatever you say. I just know when two people are being exceptionally stupid.”

“You know, I can just leave right now and go have lunch someone else if this is going to turn into a fun-tastic conversation.”

“Hey!” Brett raised his hands. “I’m just concerned.”

“About what? You don’t even know me.”

“I’m concerned that a fellow Slytherin hasn’t made a single prank since he returned to school. That’s a little worrisome to me.”

“So what? I’ve been busy and I’ve had other things to worry about.” Like Peter. No, his dad said he would handle it. His dad could handle Peter. “And really? Why are you concerned? You were so ready to go on a date with me earlier today. You must be thrilled I’m not with Derek anymore!”

Brett rolled his eyes, “I’m really not.”

“You’re not? Really tell me why are you concerned because every conversation I’ve had with you has been some annoying sexual innuendo and I don’t think that warrants a heartfelt conversation.”

Brett’s eyes went back to the entrance. “I didn’t make a single pass at you today.”

“Oh one day!” Stiles stood up from his seat, knowing he was making a scene in front of the younger students. “Someone give Brett twenty points for Slytherin because for one day he was not acting like a complete prick!” Stiles felt his throat straining as he screamed.

Brett refused to raise his voice and continued to sit. He smiled passively, “I told you I was concerned. You're the one treating my compassion like it’s a joke.”

“Because you sticking your nose into my business like this, is not only really infuriating, it’s fucking insulting. You think just having a single Quidditch practice is going to make me want to tell you everything. Tell you how I unintentionally screwed up the best thing I’ve ever had.” Stiles throat was burning now and he could feel his skin beginning to get warm.

“Derek was the best thing you had?”

“What do you think?” Stiles shot bitterly.

Brett looked back at the entrance and then quickly at Stiles. “Like I said, it still sounds like you are in love with him and you haven’t had time to have a proper conversation about it.”

Stiles bit his lip and sat back down. He buried his head in his arms. “I tried ok. I want to tell him that I don’t give a shit what he did. He had to do it. It was the only thing he could do but he won’t let me talk because I’m a dumbass...everyone says I am anyway.”

Brett snorted, “Maybe he will now.”

“What?” Stiles looked up at Brett. Brett looked over Stiles’ shoulder.

Stiles looked hesitantly around. He screamed abruptly when he saw Derek standing over him. “You left your Slytherin scarves in my room. You should come and get them.” Derek turned and walked out.

Stiles stared stupidly at his back.

He looked away when Brett spoke again. “If you run into Theo or Rhys tell them they owe me three galleons, two sickles, and five knuts."

The accuracy of the money made Stiles aware that there had been bargaining involved.

“You planned this?”

“Theo did. Said their roommate was being so mopey they couldn't stand to see it. They went to me to fix it. I said of course in exchange for a sum.”

“You seventh years only care about status and money, don't you?”

“Yup.” Brett popped his lips. “Go get him Stilinski.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and flipped Brett off as he stood up and chased after Derek.

 

|~~***~~|

 

The awkward silence was evident as Stiles and Derek stood in Derek’s vacant and too bright room. Neither of them knew what to say even though there were so many comments and emotions waiting to burst. Derek focused on the floor in front of him. Stiles watched Derek. Derek wasn’t expressing much, but he seemed to have less tension than what Stiles had remembered from the previous times they had been alone together.

“So uh…” Stiles cursed himself for speaking first. This is how the messes always got started. Derek looked up at him, raising a brow. “When did you get that new jacket?”

Derek looked down at the muggle leather jacket he was wearing. “Boyd sent it over for my birthday and Christmas gift. The other one was getting small.”  

“Oh. It looks worn.”

“That’s the style.”

“Oh.”

Derek shuffled back onto the bed. His posture was tense as his apprehension rose.

“Sorry I’m making bad conversation. I’m just trying to talk to you without starting something.”

“You don’t need to talk,” Derek said.

“But we need to talk, I thought you wanted me to.”

“No. I don’t.” Derek’s voice grew firm. “I want you to listen to me.” Derek tensed when Stiles raised a brow. “What? Talking is not torture.”

“Sorry.” Stiles said bashfully, and then sat next to Derek.

Both their attentions went to the floor.

“Stiles,” Derek started. The way he said it sounded like another breakup in Stiles’ mind. Perhaps, Stiles had been wrong in his admission of Brett’s statement, Derek didn’t still love him. Who would? “When I was ten, I met a girl named Paige.”

“What?” Stiles asked very much confused.

“I’m telling you what happened.”

“But I already know—sorry shutting up now.”

Derek nodded and started again, “I met Paige at a summer camp near my home. She was one of the strangest things I had ever met. She was one of the only two people who I’ve ever wanted to rip their throat out with my teeth and wanted to protect from everything...including myself.”  

Stiles already knew this. But he sat patiently and listened to every word Derek had to offer about Paige and what had occurred that summer. And Derek wasn’t holding back any details. He spoke exactly how it felt digging his claws in someone’s fragile skin, how he could feel the change in his eyes. He recounted how he would go every day to that spot. He told him how his family covered up her death to both the muggle law enforcement and the aurors. How Deaton had been forced to hide all evidence and stand by his mother. How the strain in the pack began to grow after that summer. How his depression was eating at him and how he felt when a sweet girl named Kate offered him a fresh start. How it led to the gravest mistake of his life...

“Stiles?” Derek asked after Stiles went quiet for a strangely long period of time when Derek had finished. Stiles had not known he was hiding behind his hands in shame. When he looked back to Derek, Stiles’ eyes were misty.

“Yeah?” He mumbled behind his hands. Derek’s brows furrowed.

“Do you understand now why I was so upset that you invaded that part of me without asking? I screamed and dismissed you because I was convinced you would really see me as a stupid idiot for ever doing something like that. I was convinced you would leave me on the spot. And you did. You left me, Stiles. After you had seen the most vulnerable part of me, you left. I couldn’t make you stay because it was so obvious how much you hated what you had seen.”

“Stop. Please stop it,” Stiles said quietly.

“Stop what?”

“Why would you think I would ever hate you for something like that?”

Tears built along Derek’s bottom eyelids. “Because I murdered a little girl, Stiles. My best friend.”

Stiles scoffed and when he saw Derek’s eyes, Stiles began to mirror him. Stiles sat up and sat so he was facing Derek. He fixed a serious eye on Derek. “Listen to me right now. I would never hate you for something like that. So stop making it seem like I would ever hate you. You were a child Derek, it wasn’t your fault.”

“I was supposed to keep her safe!”

“You were a child! You weren’t supposed to do anything other than play with her. And you did that. Seeing you happy like that, seeing you with your family...fuck Derek...that made me love you even more. Do you understand the amount of strength you have for pulling out of every traumatic event and not coming out like a sociopath? I wish I had that strength Derek because it is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.” Stiles choked down a laugh, as he briefly recalled calling Scott gay when Kira called him beautiful. “And I am so sorry I left you. I was the one being stupid and I deserved each dismissive trust you gave me.” Stiles curled in on himself and he blubbered for several minutes but eventually he calmed.

“Stiles?”

“What?” Stiles asked, mortified he couldn’t even keep his composure.

“Did Peter really manipulate you?”

Stiles kept his head at his knees. “Yes.”

“Why?”

Stiles sat up, taking deep breaths. “Because he wanted me to see why he was going to revive Lycaon. Pensieves they give a reflection of a point in time not a memory. When you had met Paige, Peter had—”

Derek leaned in. “Peter had what?”

“You know what? It doesn’t matter. Peter wants someone to understand why he’s going to murder people and I’m not going to give him that satisfaction. It’s still murder and it’s not any form of excuse. You are the one who is sitting here and not threatening to throw the world out of balance to raise a demon. So yeah...Peter manipulated me and that’s that. You don’t have to believe me. I’ll accept responsibility and we will work through this breach of trust I committed, we will work through your disbelief of me not hating you, we will talk more about Paige and Kate if you want. And if you don’t want to ever work on our issues and just continue as friends, I understand. I just don’t want to leave you here with the idea that I could ever hate you, not again. I will never hate you Derek for something like this.”

And then it was Derek’s turn to break down.

Stiles couldn’t stop staring as Derek coughed out a loud sob. He let out a wailing cry of anguish that took Stiles’ breath away. He had never seen Derek outright bawl his eyes out in his presence. So he felt so bad that it took him so long to react. He reached out and embraced Derek around the shoulders. Derek latched onto his sides sobbing into his neck.

“I am so sorry for not trusting you. I am so sorry. I can’t believe I could ever think that. ” Derek said in between every sob. “I don’t deserve you. I am so sorry.”

Stiles felt himself breathe a little easier. The sobs continued for a little longer and then when Derek’s breaths returned to normal, Stiles ran his hands along Derek’s body, gently encouraging him to look up at him.

It took Derek a while and when he did, his whole body was still jerking with an emotional ferocity.

Stiles didn’t know what to do to calm Derek, but Derek seemed to have his own method. Without thinking, Derek leaned into him and pressed their lips together.

Stiles felt himself sigh into the kiss. His hands reached out to Derek’s jaw and kept him steady as their lips moved against each other.

Stiles reluctantly pulled back, needing to reassure Derek the way kisses could not, “Derek, you are deserving of everything.”

Derek’s eyes shook as he made eye contact with him. “Same to you,” Derek replied.

Stiles pressed his forehead against Derek’s. “We good?”

Derek nodded and kissed him again. “I can’t believe I had lost you,” Derek murmured against his lips.

“You won’t anymore, not for a second.”

 

|~~***~~|

 

The image of arrows in throats woke Stiles up with a start. He took in an inhale of breath and he regretted it so badly as his throat burned. He immediately began coughing. He felt something move and saw Derek sitting up.

Stiles and Derek had been so tired from the emotional onslaught that they had both fallen asleep clothes and shoes and all on Derek’s bed. Stiles would have loved to appreciate the way they had been wrapped around each other, but his body had other ideas. Stiles shoved Derek as he stood quickly and dashed to the bathroom.

Vomit was already in his mouth as he collapsed in front of the toilet. He emptied his stomach as best as he could. He felt Derek come in and rub his back as Stiles pressed his forehead against the bowl.

“Do I need to get Yukimura?” Derek asked.

“No,” Stiles said. “This isn’t a heat spell. I’ve been fighting the Wizard Flu for a few weeks. I guess it finally won.” Stiles felt another wave of nausea hit him. He positioned himself over the toilet and this time he only threw up bile.

Stiles was shaking when he was finally done.

“We should go to the Hospital Wing.”

Stiles made a face, “But the potions taste disgusting—”

Derek gave him a very clear unamused face. “Fine.” Stiles stood with Derek’s help.

Stiles coughed a few more times. When they walked out of the bathroom, Stiles saw Rhys sitting on his bed with a wide grin.

“You two back together?” Rhys asked with a laugh.

“You owe money.” Stiles grunted, in which Derek rose a brow.

Rhys laughed, “Got it. I’ll tell Theo.”

Derek rolled his eyes and then he noticed Rhys’ usual leech missing. “Where is Theo?”

“Still out with his date, I think.”

Derek nodded and walked out with Stiles.

Stiles chugged a gross looking purple potion when he arrived in the Hospital Wing. The Healer scolded him for not coming in sooner, but Stiles was getting too drowsy to make a witty remark.

He barely realized she was talking with Derek. Everything was blurring together. When consciousness started kicking in again, he could smell lavender and vanilla. He looked around and noticed he was in a room where everything was made of white marble. He was sitting on the bench above what looked like a rectangular swimming pool sunk into the middle of the floor. About a hundred golden taps stood all around the pool’s edge, each with with a differently colored jewel set into its handle.  Long white linen curtains hung at the windows and  a large pile of fluffy white towels sat in a corner.

“Where are we?” Stiles asked, throat still sore.

“Prefect’s Bathroom.” Derek replied near the taps. He started turning a few more until the deep pool was full of hot water, foam, and bubbles.

“This is the prefect’s bathroom? What the hell? Did you bribe the headmaster to have something this fancy?”

“No it’s a privilege.”

“Oh, it’s a privilege.” Stiles mocked.

Derek only grinned. “Clothes off. I filled the bath with some soothing potions. You should feel better by tomorrow.”

Stiles nodded and with Derek’s help, Stiles was standing naked in the middle of the bathroom and shivering. Derek removed his own clothes next and stepped into the pool first. Stiles followed after him and immediately found himself feeling incredibly sleepy.

He felt Derek maneuvering them so Stiles was sitting in his lap. Stiles leaned back against his chest and let the silence lull him to sleep, trusting Derek to keep him above water.

 

Derek felt his muscles relax within the bath. He was always found it enjoyable to swim in the hot and foamy water with clouds of different-colored steam wafting all around him. He usually did a few laps in the pool before enjoying a relaxing bath, but sitting here with Stiles after everything felt deeply intimate and perfect. Derek’s arms were around Stiles’ waist and Derek had his head in Stiles’ neck, rubbing his nose along his shoulder.

God. He had missed that scent. He couldn’t believe he had been stupid enough to let Stiles go. His break-up with Stiles had left Derek a little more depressed than he cared to admit. It came as a shock when he had been helping Allison with her patronus. Derek was only able to produce the sheen of mist instead of a full-fledged patronus. He had been incredibly upset but masked his emotions in favor of helping Allison. The girl was bright and in a few weeks Allison had been able to produce one.

Still, the lingering remnant of his own patronus kept Derek antsy until he realized Boyd and the others were right. He couldn’t keep avoiding Stiles. He couldn’t keep hiding from his mistakes. He had confronted them long ago and now it was time to move past all that bullshit.

But when he was back in his own room with Stiles, his mental debate was fraught with uneasiness and a realization of his lack of control over his insecurities. The rational part of his mind was combating the irrational fear he felt, and being conscious of how unreasonable he had been acting since they returned to Hogwarts made everything so much worse.

Stiles was obviously concerned about their relationship, and Derek knew it had to be himself to move forward. Stiles had come to the room there was no reason for Derek to be scared.

Derek had opened his mouth and told Stiles of his greatest failure.

He had not expected Stiles to cry even less to break down himself.

Everything between them was now barred for each other to see.

God, that should have been the scariest thing for Derek. Years of putting on masks, avoiding social etiquette, and isolating himself from the world had been Derek’s form of comfort. Yet, sitting naked in the pool with Stiles made that comfort seemed like the past. That wasn’t bringing him anything, this person in his arms was giving him more comfort that he had not felt in years.

He felt his lids drooping, but the sound of giggling outside the door immediately woke him. His head snapped to the door as it opened. He groaned inaudibly as he saw Jackson and Lydia come through.

Both of them froze when they saw him and Stiles in the pool.

“Fucking finally,” Lydia announced. “You two done with your lover quarrel or whatever that nonsense was?”

Derek sighed. “Yes.”

“Great.” She stood on her tip toes. “Are you two fucking?”

“Lydia,” Derek and Jackson chastised at the same time.

“What? Couples only come here to have sex in the pool, everyone knows that.”

“I thought you stopped defacing the pool,” Derek looked between them. Neither pack member looked embarrassed or guilty.

“Yeah, like I’m going to listen to your orders. So are you two fucking?” She tried walking a little closer.

“No, he’s sleeping.” Derek said.

“Really? Morgana, you two are boring.”

Jackson agreed with her and the two began to nonchalantly have a conversation a few feet away from them.

By this point, Derek was getting annoyed. The complete lack of manners and the audacity these two had in ruining the moment was staggering. He took a deep breath.

“Both of you out.” Derek said firmly.

Lydia and Jackson seemed ready to laugh but when they saw the serious look on his face the two nodded. He heard Lydia mutter under her breath, “Want to go use the Room instead?”

“Sure.”

“Don’t use the Room either!” Derek shouted as they both left.

Stiles woke up after that. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Are you feeling better?”

Stiles nodded sleepily. “I just want to keep sleeping.”

“We should get out before our skin gets pruny. We can go back to the Hufflepuff room.”

Stiles nodded against his chest.

Derek smiled softly and picked up Stiles, the water dripping off them in a splash as Derek stood. Derek carried him to the towels and rubbed him down. Derek took in a little sick joy when he wiped the towel over Stiles’ hair, it stuck up in the same way as Ms. Miguel’s. Derek held in his snort and helped Stiles back into clothes.

With both of them dressed, Derek helped Stiles to the Hufflepuff dorms. Luckily, by the time he got there both his roommates were asleep so when he crawled into bed with Stiles, it felt like the world belonged to the two of them.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's my lovely readers!! May you have fun with your significant others and if not, with your friends and family! Hugs and kisses and may you receive tons of candy!
> 
> Sorry for the wait. I was busy turning in apps for my credential program (wish me luck) and busy with my last semester of college (finally). This semester has been kicking my butt along with work. 
> 
> Chapter is short, I know. They should return to average size next chapter and expect a small (really small) time jump. 
> 
> What did you think? Personally, I ended up crying over this more than writing the breakup and I am not quite sure why.


	56. Resurrection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pack's Spring Break doesn't go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want to give special thanks for the Goddess and Master of beta-ing. She is super awesome ( [stucky-is-unbroken](http://stucky-is-unbroken.tumblr.com/) ) you should follow her on tumblr. She made my story come more alive.

Heavy rain showers splattered against King’s Cross’s glass ceiling. The few students who chose to return home for Spring Break tilted their heads back, watching the slosh of water slide down. Stiles stood with Scott, both of them enjoying the calming sight in companionable silence.

The silence broke as they heard Melissa shout their names, “Oh, it’s so good to see both of you!”

Stiles looked her way with a smile. Scott jogged to his mom, embracing her tightly. At the press of his lips at her temple, Stiles bemusedly noticed Scott’s growth spurt. He glanced around the station, trying to tamp down the false hope that he would see his father. His dad had been practically detained by the Auror Department since the year began; he did not have time for family.

A squeeze on his right hand made Stiles take a deep breath. He met Derek’s eyes and smiled forcefully.

“Is Laura coming for you guys?” Stiles asked, unable to sense the eldest Hale anywhere at the station.

“She’s busy at the Ministry,” Derek said, before Stiles was suddenly being pulled away into Melissa’s arms. Stiles laughed as they hugged each other at uncomfortably tight levels, battling over who would let go first. Stiles lost, begging to be released. Melissa complied and mockingly pinched his cheek. Stiles batted her hand away fondly before the rest of the pack, who were unloading their trunks from the baggage carriage, could see.

The widening of Melissa’s and Derek’s eyes was the only warning Stiles got before being almost knocked to the ground, someone jumping full-force onto his back. Stiles shoved the offender off, unsurprised when he turned to find Erica standing there grinning. “I thought we were going to be spending Spring Break with you anyway,” Erica claimed as she gathered her hair into a bun. The humidity in the air frizzed the ends of her hair.

Stiles snorted. “When did I agree to that?”

“Last week?” She questioned, glancing  at Lydia exiting the train along with Allison and Chris Argent. “Or did I agree with Lydia we would?”

“Lydia,” Stiles whined as the trio approached, “you can’t rent out my home like a hotel.”

“I didn’t,” She said quickly. “I only made the suggestion. Cora is the one who ran with it and told everyone we would stay at your place for the whole week.”

Cora scoffed beside Kira and her mother. “No, I didn’t. That was Boyd, remember?”

Boyd crossed his arms. “It wasn’t me. Wasn’t it, Isaac?” That made Danny laugh.

The pack eyed Isaac slowly. He stared at everyone with wide eyes. “I might have rented out your home for the break.”

Stiles groaned internally at the thought of living with the pack for the whole week.

“I bet by midnight someone will set fire to the kitchen,” Scott whispered to him.

“I bet by nine.” Stiles whispered back, pulling out sickles from his pocket.

 

|~~***~~|

 

When everyone arrived in the Stilinski Manor, the rain took a temporary pause. Melissa, Argent, and Yukimura created a makeshift porch and heaters, allowing them comfort when they stepped out into the yard. Stiles was in the kitchen making drinks for everyone after kicking out Isaac and Jackson for fear they would set fire to the kitchen. Although, he had gotten a little distracted in his drink making endeavor when he had Derek attached to his lips. His forearms rested against Derek’s shoulders and Derek’s hands pressed Stiles’ hips to the kitchen counter.

“Dude, stop macking on each other and let’s go outside!” Scott shouted, not caring in the slightest that the two were kissing in front of him. He yanked Stiles away from Derek with a laugh.

Stiles shoved at his friend with delight as they went to the backyard. He glanced back at Derek with a smile as the wolf levitated the drinks to set themselves on the table.

Stiles broke free of Scott’s grasp when they reached the tables. Stiles sat down at Jackson’s table and took both his and Derek’s mug as Derek carefully floated each cup to its respective owner. Scott’s mug nearly flipped over as it tried to chase Scott, who ran across the yard to sit with Allison, Isaac, and Kira at the fountain bench.

Stiles threw one last smile at Derek before finally paying attention to the others at the table. Jackson and Lydia were playing an intense game of wizard’s chess, Danny declaring  that it was their own special form of foreplay. Stiles rolled his eyes and shifted his attention, deciding that was way too much information.

Erica and Cora were sitting with their legs in each other’s laps as they argued over the best ice cream flavor. Boyd was playing judge and awarding points for the best argument. Melissa, Argent, and Yukimura were at another table, sipping the Japanese tea Yukimura had told Stiles to make. He sighed again, remembering that his father was missing.

“Is it entirely necessary for us to face this torture?” Derek asked, distracting Stiles from his lonely thoughts. Derek had been doing that all day, and Stiles appreciated the effort.

Stiles turned back to Lydia and Jackson to see them in a combination of flirting and bickering that only the pair of them could pull off. Merlin, Stiles felt like gagging.

“Oh c’mon Jackson, my Queen is so ready to dominate your bishop.”

“I don’t know, Lydia, I think my Knight is ready to take your Queen from behind.”

Stiles gagged. “How good are you at memory charms?”

“Considering we only started them last week, I would say abysmal.”

“Very willing to take that risk.”

Derek snorted and shook his head. His face quickly morphed into annoyance as Lydia managed to get the upperhand in the couple’s game. Jackson whined and Lydia smirked as she said, “Get over it. Drop trou and bend over, honey.”

“Lydia,” Derek reprimanded.

Lydia rolled her eyes but her sexual banter with Jackson ceased. Stiles looked up at Derek in awe.

“What?” Derek looked back at him.

“Nothing,” Stiles smiled. Ever since they got back together, Stiles couldn’t help but notice Derek’s shift in character. He seemed more sure of himself than he had in the past, but baring your soul probably had that effect. After all, everything had to be tame in comparison to that. Derek had nothing to fear. And that included Lydia’s temperament.

“You’re hiding something,” Derek teased.

“What? Me?” Stiles batted his eyelashes innocently.

“Don’t get cute with me,” Derek snarled, but there was a daring smile at his lips.

“You think I’m cute?”

Jackson threw a pawn at both of them. “Both of you are disgusting.”

Stiles flipped him off and would have retorted rudely if the adults weren’t a few feet away from them. Instead, his attention drew to the fountain.

“Are you kidding me? Longsword and fencing training is way harder than any Asian based fighting styles!” Allison screeched. There was a smile at her lips, so even Stiles knew she didn’t really mean it. “That’s it. I want a match.”

Kira’s smile also said that she knew Allison was only riling her up for fun. “Fine!” Stiles snorted as Kira tried to force an overdramatized confidence from her throat.

Derek and Stiles shared a look as they saw Allison and Kira rush back inside the house. They came back minutes later with both their swords in hand.

“Wait, you two brought those  dangerous—nay, _deadly_ \--things in my house?” Stiles shouted when he saw the two. He looked over to their parents to see if they would have any objection but Argent and Yukimura only looked intrigued and amused.

“As opposed to housing dangerous--“nay, deadly”--werewolves?” Danny chimed in.

“No one asked you, Danny.”

The girls paid no mind to the boys’ banter and instead went into battle stances.

“I bet five sickles Allison wins,” Erica told Cora.

“You’re on.”

“Put me in the bet for Allison,” Derek shouted to them.

Stiles laughed as his boyfriend took part in the bet. The girls got into position, swords up and eyes glinting.

“Go!” Kira and Allison shouted simultaneously, glee shining both off their faces.

Despite their words, neither made a single move other than sizing each other up. Kira’s katana looked ridiculously short beside Allison’s, but that didn’t stop Kira from looking overly confident.

Allison swung first overhead. Kira ducked smoothly away and brought her katana near Allison’s middle. Allison stepped to the right and spun with her motion.

Stiles and the others flinched when the two swords clinked. After that, the sound of metal striking metal repeatedly filled the air.

The sound was grating to Stiles’ ears but he refused to move as he was memorized with the movements of his two friends in front of him. There was finesse and grace in Allison’s steps despite the weight in her sword that forced her to swing it overhead. She looked like a dancer with the sword as her partner. Kira, on the other hand, was calculated raw power. Nobody in the pack other than Stiles and Scott had seen this intensity in Kira before. Her arms were stiff and strong as she took every hit and delivered her own.

Allison took a large swing forward, which made Kira step back. Her feet fumbled for a few seconds but she spun in a quick turn, successfully missing the strike.

“She’s using her tails for balance,” Derek whispered in his ear.

Stiles nodded in awe. Just as he was wondering when the battle would end, he saw something flash in Kira’s eyes. She did a quick series of complicated moves that forced Allison to step backward and lose grip on her sword, sending it clattering to the ground.

Allison sighed and stepped back. Kira bent down and lifted Allison’s sword, handing it to her proudly. There was a large smile on Allison’s face, so it was obvious there were no hard feelings. Stiles’ eyes traveled to Yukimura who stood regally from her seat toward her daughter. She reached out for Allison’s sword.

“May I?”

Allison nodded and let the woman handle the longsword. Yukimura swung the sword, testing the weight. “The weapon is beautifully crafted,” Yukimura commented, running a finger along the base of the blade.

“Thank you,” Chris Argent replied with a smirk. “I forged it myself when I was younger.”

Yukimura raised a brow at the Argent’s conceit. She then smiled and handed the sword back to Allison, “Congratulations on your win.”

“What? I just lost.” Allison smiled awkwardly.

Yukimura sighed and looked at her daughter, “The only reason why my daughter was able to disarm you was because her weapon allowed her to cut quicker and faster than yours. The sword you carry is fitted to your father’s height and weight, which made you stumble a little in your moves. However, your technique is flawless.”

“Thanks mom,” Kira remarked a little grumpily.

“You fought well too for your first duel. You are accustomed to battling spirits, not people like Allison, who has been trained.”

“So it is true,” Chris Argent leaned his elbow against the table to rest his head on his fist. “I had heard rumors that a kitsune had been dealing with Level 4 spirits in Japan.”

“Just one level 4 spirit, and I had my mother’s help.” Kira blushed. “I mostly deal with level 2 spirits and the rare 3.”

“What spirit was it?” Lydia asked curiously.

Kira took a deep breath before answering. “A Gashadokuro. They are giant skeletons, fifteen times taller than an average person, and are constructed from the bones of people who have died from starvation. Their bones are collected into this giant skeleton creature which is filled with intense anger and a thirst for human blood,” Kira rambled a little enthusiastically.

Stiles wanted to laugh at her very textbook definition. He looked over at Scott who looked somewhere between amazed and totally scared.

“I had my mother’s help!” Kira said quickly, when the others looked at her strangely. “My mom did most of the magic to capture it because it’s practically invisible. She also weakened it and I just dealt the final blow, I hardly did anything.”

“I can’t believe you let your daughter do that,” Melissa said, smiling slightly to lessen the rudeness of the statement. “I still get scared when Scott takes out his bike in the streets. I should have never bought him that metal death-trap for his birthday.”

“Mom!” Scott whined.

Yukimura looked proudly over at Kira, “She’s stronger than most. I trust her to make sound judgments in the field.”

Kira smiled awkwardly and began to pull Allison away from her mom and go to the others. The parents grouped together again, while the others decided to head back inside as a drizzle began to fall from the sky.

Stiles complained as Erica and Isaac rushed over to raid the pantry for the third time that day. When he saw them pull out his favorite treats, he rushed over and yanked the bag out of their hands and tried running away. Erica and Isaac shared a look before giving chase.

Stiles ended up hiding behind the couch with the bag in his mouth, Erica and Isaac starting to come at him from both sides.

Stiles saw Derek entering the living room first with the others behind him. Stiles saw his opening and took it. His eyes focused on his boyfriend, he jumped over the couch and within a second found himself accidentally tackling Derek, subsequently taking him and Scott to the ground.

“Ow,” Stiles complained when his nose met his boyfriend’s hard chest. He sat up and rubbed it delicately.

“How the hell did you do that?” Erica exclaimed.

“Holy crap!” Scott shouted in glee, trying to climb out under from Derek. “You did it!”

“Did wha—Holy Merlin’s Beard! I fucking ran!” He pushed Derek aside to get to Scott. Scott and Stiles helped each other up. Their hands linked and they began to bounce around like children. “I ran fast! I did it! I need to go tell Yukimura!”

Stiles dashed down the stairs, not as fast he just had, but still pretty quickly for all his flailing limbs.

“You’re in love with that?” Jackson grimaced. Derek only replied with a roll of his eyes but everyone could see a fond smile tugging at his lips.

 

|~~***~~|

 

The rain continued to beat against the window. It was rhythmic and soothing for the company inside the dimly lit room. The day had passed with little incident in Lydia’s opinion, not counting the small fire Erica and Jackson caused a few hours prior. Derek made sure to reprimand them both by making them clean up the mess the muggle way. Aside from such nonsense, Lydia thought all was going well so far. The parents had gone home, leaving them to their own devices and trusting Derek and Boyd to make sure other nonsense was kept to a minimum. Derek’s first adult thing of the late evening was to assign rooms, boys on the third floor, girls on the second. Lydia didn’t see how that was fair, knowing Derek and Stiles were able to share a room. So in retaliation she cast privacy spells so they could gossip without repercussion.

Still, she chose to listen because she did enjoy the other girls’ company. She was sprawled horizontally on the bed with her hand holding up her head and the other at her waist. Allison was behind her, her perpetually cold feet tucked under Lydia’s thighs. Cora and Erica were already in their nightwear under the covers while Kira was seated between them over the sheets.

“Why did you guys decide to spend the Break here?” Kira asked.

“Mom got a job, surprisingly,” Lydia answered. “Well, an interview to a governess position. Still, pretty impressive since we reconciled. All this talk of independent womanhood made her go on a riot looking for a job. So she’s been busy and the house is empty other than the house elves and an endless supply of liquor. Doting elves and expensive wine is not a good combination, at least for Spring Break.”

“My parents are celebrating their wedding anniversary this whole week. I do _not_ want to be there,” Erica shuddered.

“Laura doesn’t care where I choose to go,” Cora grinned. “You guys should meet my sister. I think she would love you.”

“You mean she’ll love playing dress up with you,” Erica grinned.

“That seems fun,” Kira said.

“If you’re Lydia,” Cora snorted. “Everything has laces and frills and ribbons. And it’s hard to say no to a Beta who’s Alpha material.”

“Oh, your sister sounds intimidating,” Kira worried.

“Laura’s sweet,” Allison cooed. “I’ve met her a few times. Don’t worry. Anyway, I’m assuming you’re here cause you need a break from your mom like I do my dad?”

“Pretty much.”

Lydia snorted but it turned into a shallow cough. She rubbed her throat idly, while Erica began to complain to Kira about something. Lydia swallowed, trying in vain to remove the sudden lump in her throat.

“Are you okay?” Allison asked.

“It feels like something is stuck in my throat,” Lydia choked out. She tried to cough again.

“Are you getting sick?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Maybe you’re just tired,” Allison said, trying to find a cure for Lydia’s ailment. She got up from the bed. “Okay, who’s sleeping where?”

“I’m staying here,” Erica stated with authority. “Cora and I already under the covers and I took my bra off already. You guys can go to the other room.”

“Whatever,” Lydia grabbed Kira’s hand, ready to haul her to the room next door, but as soon as her hand made contact, everything in the room turned gray and their friends disappeared.

Lydia inhaled sharply softly when she felt Kira tighten her grip on her hand.

“Where are we?” Kira gasped.

Lydia couldn’t respond because all she could focus on was the electric blue tails crackling behind Kira’s form. Is that what the werewolves saw when they looked at her? This imposing upright fox of lightning? It was the very definition of sublime.

“Lydia?”

“Yeah…” She gasped out.

“You’re naked.”

Lydia gave her a confused look then looked down at herself. “Huh.” She said matter of factly. She had scrutinized her body several times before, so she was shocked to see her skin was newly translucent. Even more shocking, though, was  her suddenly long hair that pooled around her toes. She wiggled them, contemplating her situation.

“No split ends, that’s good,” She said, trying to remain calm. It was proving difficult when she realized that her mouth did not feel like her own. She ran her tongue against her teeth, noticing with a detached sort of horror that all her front ones were sharpened--not overly so like the werewolves in their Beta forms, but just enough that if she were to smile it would draw attention. She maneuvered her jaw in circles.

“Where are we?” Kira asked again, taking care to not look at Lydia’s indecency. If it weren’t for the dire nature of the situation, Lydia would have laughed at the fox sticking her nose in the air.

“I’ve had something like this happen before.” Lydia said. As soon as she finished her sentence, she felt both their bodies being pulled. Lydia held on to Kira’s hand even tighter. _Great._ She apparently had claws too.

They landed in a large room of black paneled walls. They were in the atrium of the ministry. Lydia told Kira this. “I wonder if you did something to me.” Lydia said inquisitively looking around the Ministry.

“I didn’t do anything, I promise,” Kira said earnestly.

Lydia shrugged. “You probably did, but accidentally. You’re a spirit and I am essentially a fairy of death. I think our magic must have reacted together. Why I’m naked is still a mystery.”

“Banshees’ true forms are often naked. Non-spirits can only see the white dress.” Kira replied distractedly. “Why would our magic show us this though? Why the British Ministry of Magic?”

Lydia looked around curiously. “Let’s find out.”

Lydia walked forward, holding on to Kira stronger than ever. As soon as they took a step together, they were pulled again into a dark corridor. Bolted above the hallway was a sign reading “Department of Mysteries.” Lydia frowned. She looked around and then spotted a swirling mass of white light and gas floating a few yards away.

“What is that?”

“That’s a spirit.” Kira said, now much more confused. She watched it and Lydia saw how Kira’s ears folded. “It wants us to follow it.”

“Do you think it contacted us?”

“No. Spirits can’t usually do this.”

“Usually?”

“Only the strongest spirits can and I don’t see why this one would want our attention.”

“Maybe it’s not.”

The light flew closer to them slowly.

“What do you mean?”

Lydia’s lips pursed, “I’m telling you; I’m a Banshee. I’ve only had an out of body vision once and that was when a large number of people died. Except the only difference now is that I can see the spirit. I’ve never seen one. That might be your own magic’s doing.”

Kira faced Lydia without letting go of her hand, “A large number of people?”

“Forty-nine people if you’re curious.”

Kira looked back at the spirit with fright. It flew through a black door. “We should follow it.”

Lydia nodded in agreement. They walked further down the corridor, their bodies racing to a black door and entering to find a circular room with many doors. The spirit lingered above their heads, and when they looked up at it, the floor around them vanished.

They prepared for the fall, but their feet had already touched the ground. Before they could question it, they saw a stone archway. The spirit buzzed erratically. With a quick vibration, it dashed inside the stone archway. Immediately, they heard a loud roar seep into their being.

Lydia and Kira broke apart their hands to cover their ears. The connection was lost, and they found themselves back in the Stilinski Manor on their hands and knees.

“Lydia! Kira!” Allison kept shouting near her. Lydia’s head snapped up to look at her best friend.

“What did you see?” Cora demanded beside her as Erica slowly moved Kira to a sitting position.

“I don’t know.” Lydia whispered. She replayed the image and then the sound. “I heard a werewolf in the ministry. But I didn’t see anyone die.”

“That’s really weird.” Erica said.

“It wasn’t a werewolf. It was a spirit.” Kira leaned against the blonde. “It passed through a spiritual barrier. Beings can’t enter them.”

“Oh shit...I think we just finished seeing…” Lydia bit her tongue. If she said it, it would feel to real. She didn’t want it to be real.

“Lycaon?” Allison questioned.

“We need to get Derek.” Erica said, already standing.

“It was at the ministry, though,” Kira informed. “I think it would be better to tell Stiles’ dad. If Lycaon is coming in through the ministry, they need to evacuate everyone. Stiles’ dad should have the authority to do that, right?”

“Okay, let’s go,” Allison said, standing as well. “Erica, get dressed.”

“How are we getting there? We can’t floo into the ministry,” Cora spoke up, having been silent through the entire exchange. “Only workers are granted access. The floo won’t read our magical signature, it will expel us out and we’ll get splinched—badly!”

“Isn’t there a guest entrance?” Lydia asked, pulling on her shoes. The girls saw her get ready and rushed to put on their clothes as well.

“Yeah but how are we getting there? I’ve used it before but I can’t side apparate with all of you.”

“I’ve been there,” Allison spoke quickly. “I was young but I still remember what it looks like. It's a red box right?”

“Yeah, it's a telephone box. You sure you have the image?”

Allison gave a determined nod.

“‘Kay, I’ll take Erica and Kira.” Cora said. “We have to go outside the gate; there’s anti apparition wards in here.” Cora fumbled around the covers for her wand.

Lydia had hers already in hand and was tucking it up her sleeve. She glanced to Kira, whose back was turned from them as she faced the nightstand. “Kira, Allison, take your swords.”

Allison tentatively touched Lydia’s hand. “Do you think we need them?”

“I don’t have visions without someone dying. Take them.”

Allison nodded and went to her longsword. She pressed the crest of their family on the hilt of the sword and it shrunk to the size of a dagger, then tucked it into her pocket. Kira finished whatever she was doing at the nightstand and was now settling the strap of her own sword at her back.

The young women took a deep breath before rushing out of the room and out of the house. They blinked hard against the rain outside as they ran across the front yard. Cora pulled open the large metal gate, and the girls stepped outside.

“Ready?” Allison questioned, gripping Lydia’s hand as tightly as she could.

Cora grabbed Kira’s hand, but when she tried to grab onto Erica’s, Erica slapped her hand away and latched onto her arm instead, saying, “Yeah, here’s praying we don’t die.”

Everyone glared at the blonde. She shrugged defensively.

Allison met Cora’s eyes. Both nodded and apparated with a loud crack.

 

|~~***~~|

 

The noise was drowned out by the heavy downpour of rain. The girls shrieked, as the rain in London was much heavier. They covered their heads while Cora searched out in the dark for the red telephone box.

“Where do we go from here?” Kira asked, pushing her hair out of her face.

“Over here,” Cora called, going to the battered telephone box and opening the door. “Come on.” She paused to usher the others inside.

Erica and Kira went in first, then Lydia and Allison. Cora squeezed herself into the box after Lydia.

“Erica, dial six-two-four-four-two.” Cora said after Lydia made some comment about her clothes sticking uncomfortably against her body and Allison’s wet hair falling on her face.

Cora ignored Lydia and took a moment to be grateful that Erica was the first to enter; she couldn’t imagine Allison or Lydia trying to work the muggle contraption. The machine whirred into place and the automated female voice inside the box. _“Please state your name and business.”_

“Really?” Lydia shouted into Cora’s ear. “This is a matter of life and death.”

Kira spoke over Lydia, “Kira Yukimura, Allison Argent, Erica Reyes, Lydia Martin, and Cora Hale. We’re here to speak with Head Auror Stilinski.”

 _“Thank you,”_ said the automated voice. “ _Visitors, please take the badges and attach them to the front of your robes.”_

Badges slid out of the coin slot. Kira scooped them up and handed them out.

_“Visitors to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which will be located on your left. Have a nice day.”_

The floor of the telephone box shuddered and the pavement rose up past the glass windows of the telephone box. A dull grinding noise echoed as they sank down into the depths of the Ministry of Magic.

 _“The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant evening,”_ the automated voice finished. Cora pushed open the door and they all burst out.

“That’s weird,” Cora commented as she looked around the atrium. The times she had come to the ministry to visit her sister at work she always found the area bustling with several wizards and witches. Plus, there was usually a witch with too much lipstick waiting for them right at the guest entrance. However, all she could see now were empty mantelpieces and hallways with scattered papers strewn about. Everything was completely empty.

“Where is everyone?” Allison asked.

“It’s one in the morning. Maybe everyone is asleep.” Erica suggested. “I sure want to be.”

“No,” Cora spoke. “There’s a night shift. It’s always busy.”

“So what’s going on?” Erica said.

“Come on,” Lydia took charge. “We won’t find out standing here.”

 

Lydia like Cora felt sure that there ought to have been a security person to greet them. The fact that no one was there was an ominous sign. Mixed with the vision Lydia had just had, they didn’t want to find out what.

They passed through the golden gates to the lifts. Cora pressed the nearest down button and a lift clattered into sight almost immediately. They dashed inside. Lydia stabbed the nine button. The lift began to descend, jingling and rattling.

“The Auror Department is on the second floor,” Kira said pointing to the directory next to the buttons.

“I know,” Lydia said. She had a strong feeling the entire place was vacated.

 _“Department of Mysteries,”_ the female voice around them announced.

The lift slid open. They stepped out, and the nearest torches flickered in the rush of air from the lift.

“What's that noise?” Erica spoke suddenly, shoving Lydia aside so she could get out first.

“What?”

“It's footsteps.” As soon as Cora said that, they saw a small dark fox dash on the crossing corridor in front of them. “Blake.” Cora hissed.

They were ready to give chase but then stopped when they saw a frazzled Morrell at the intersection.

“Professor?” Allison questioned.

Morrell stopped running and stared at them with large eyes. She looked ahead of herself where the fox had ran and then her head snapped to the pack. “What are you doing? Help me get her!” Morrell ordered.

The girls nodded and then began to make chase after Morrell and Blake down the long corridor, but as they began to reach another intersection, Cora and Erica smelled several werewolves. They slowed their pace when they saw fifteen werewolves heading toward them.

“Great,” Erica snarled, extending her claws. Cora did the same while the other three took out their wands.

They saw Morrell pull out her wand as well and she shot a spell at two werewolves blocking her path. Two werewolves flew into the wall and Morrell jumped over them to continue chasing Blake.

“Take care of them!” Morrell called out, continuing to run.

 

“She’s crazy,” Allison shouted. The fifteen werewolves ignored Morrell and stayed rooted to their post.

Allison bared her teeth and with her wand cast a large fire spell. The werewolves stepped back, trying to get away from the flames. “Help me!” She shouted to Lydia, who was already uttering the spell.

The flames grew along the wall and they both noted the walls had been spelled to be fire resistant. It caused them to put more energy into their spell, making them step back when they could feel the insistent heat flicking against their face. Cora and Erica were forced to step back as well, but as the flames grew, Allison faltered. She glanced back to make sure Cora was not distressed by the fire, but in Allison’s grave distraction, her flames wavered. A werewolf saw his chance and jumped as high as the ceiling would allow.

The flames licked his black boots, but he was otherwise unscathed. He dashed forward using his momentum and weight to slam Allison against the wall. Allison choked out a painful gasp as her back met hard brick. Her grip on her wand slipped and she watched it clatter and roll a few feet away from her. Allison fell against the floor, and when she turned her neck, she saw black, soot-covered army boots. The werewolf walked to the wand and crushed it beneath his foot.

Allison gasped softly, her eyes darting quickly to the others.

She saw in Lydia make the split-second decision to banish her flames. The fire could not reach very far, wasting time rather than helping. Erica and Kira fought against the first werewolves while Lydia was already muttering other spells.

Allison turned back to her werewolf. His eyes were a bright yellow against his pale face. The sharp contrast made him look sick. His arms and shoulders were broad, and he nearly reached Boyd’s height. He bent down to her with claws out, but before he could grip her robes, he was shoved onto the ground by Cora. She struck first at his face with claws.

Allison reacted quickly and let her hunter instincts control her. The dagger fell from her pocket, and with a press at the crest, she fastened it to its long blade. She charged at the first werewolf coming at her, a green haired man with Asian features. She aimed the longsword straight for his head, but the werewolf simply grinned at her fierce display.

He sunk to the ground, avoiding the tip of the blade, and pushed up with his shoulder, knocking the sword out of her hands. Allison stepped back. As quick as her hunter instincts had taken hold of her, they vanished. She suddenly realized something: All of the werewolves she had fought against in their pack had been unaccustomed to fighting. These werewolves, though, showed through the unity of their movements that they were members of a pack who had instilled at a young age the art of fighting and eradicated the natural fear of pain. These werewolves knew from experience that their wounds would heal, so they had no hesitation in battle. They did not care for scratches and punctures—their bodies would handle it—their only mission was to stay on their feet and keep fighting.

The werewolf grinned at Allison, shaking her from her realization.   

“What are you going to do now, human?” The werewolf snarled only a foot away from her.

Without hesitation, she punched the werewolf straight in the nose. His eyes widened in surprise at her direct attack. Taking advantage of the werewolf’s temporary distraction as he adjusted his broken nose, Allison rolled to the ground to grip her sword again. Allison did not even give him the time to bare his fanged teeth. She sliced forward on instinct and felt the sword meeting resistance against flesh, muscle, and bone as she dug it straight onto his neck.

The werewolf gasped in pain as Allison slid it back out and kicked him down. Allison breathed deeply and turned to the others.

Cora and Erica were struggling the most as the werewolves focused on them. Each one of them had four werewolves trying to attack them from all sides.

Allison lifted her sword, rushing to aid them, before her attention caught on Kira. The kitsune tucked her wand into her pocket as she summoned her mask. She unsheathed her sword, and with fascination, she saw lightning crackling around her and emanating from the blade. She let out a cry that sounded more animal than human, and using the blunt side of her _katana,_ she struck out at a male werewolf. The lightning hit his back, knocking  him down. Allison heard him cry out and saw him dance upon his front as Kira continued pressing down with her sword. His arms beat against the floor like a drum, his muscles twitching like the flesh of a hippogriff stung by too many nargles. When Kira finally pulled back her sword, the werewolf’s face was gray, and he was breathing shallowly.

Several of the werewolves backed away from Kira after the impressive display, but one dark, redheaded female had no such qualms. She growled loudly. Allison noticed that whatever Kira had done had taken a lot of energy, so she was left unguarded. Allison leapt in front of her to block the werewolf's attack. With as much strength as she could muster, the hunter pushed the werewolf off-balance, causing her to whack her head on the floor and temporarily lose consciousness.

Allison glanced to Erica, who had knocked three werewolves unconscious. “Erica! Go with Lydia after Morrell! She needs help!”

Erica nodded and went to Lydia, who was dealing with her own werewolf. Erica grabbed Lydia and flung her over her shoulder.

Cora tried to stop the werewolves from chasing after them, but three of them managed to dance around her and go after the pair.

Allison turned to Kira, who looked a little more composed after having a moment to recover. “Can you do that lightning thing again?”

Still breathing hard, Kira shook her head. “Not for another ten minutes.”

Allison nodded. “I’ll deal with the rest, then. Focus on recovering.”

 

|~~***~~|

 

“Put me down!” Lydia demanded.

“Not a chance, sweetheart,” Erica snarled. She heard a growl behind her and glanced over her shoulder to see the three werewolves running to them. One of them was a small Asian girl with obvious blue glowing eyes, and the other two were pale-faced men, one sporting yellow Beta eyes and the other’s glowing blue as well. “Any chance you can cast anything to give us some distance?”

Lydia pulled her arm under her body and tried to steady her hand from the jostle. But before she could think of a spell, the Asian girl caught up with them, and with a showy flip, let her foot collide with Erica’s head.

Erica grunted in pain and fell face first. Lydia dropped with her, and with her wand cast at the ground, shouted, _“Bombarda!”_ The Asian girl gripped her wand, but the spell was already cast. Lydia watched her own wand splinter against the force of the spell, but thankfully the explosion still had some effect.

The Asian girl flew back several feet, crashing against the men. Taking the momentary pause to glance around for an exit, Lydia spotted a door a few feet away. She rushed to Erica, and with her wand now useless, she dropped it to the ground and used both hands to drag Erica to the door. She pushed it open and threw Erica inside gracelessly.

Lydia shut the door and locked it, knowing it would be of little use. Looking around the room frantically, she noticed a small bookshelf against a wall and dashed to it. The bookshelf screeched against the ground as she used it to block the door, but that still was not enough to keep the werewolves out. She hurried back to Erica and dug inside the blonde’s sweater for her wand. When she grasped it, though, she immediately felt sharp currents of electricity running up her arm; the wand was rejecting her. Lydia gritted her teeth through the pain and shot a complicated warding spell at the door. When she was finished, she threw the wand to the ground, feeling like she had been electrocuted by it. She looked at the door and saw the outline of the ward had very clear cracks because the spell wasn’t cast with a wand that worked with her magic. It wouldn’t hold for long, but it would have to do.

Finally, she kneeled beside Erica and checked her pulse against her neck. Thankfully, it was still beating normally. She pulled her hair out of her face and leaned down to listen to Erica’s breath, too. She was still breathing, so she must be knocked out. _Great_.

Lydia licked her lips and let her mind race. “How the fuck am I going to…” She jumped as she saw the door rattle. Another small crack appeared on the ward. _“Fantastic.”_

She took deep breaths. “Okay, no use in freaking out. Let’s think this through.” Looking around the room, she suddenly realized she was in a potions lab.

She stood up and rushed to the several potions lingering around. She realized with dismay that she didn’t recognize any of them; all of the vials and cups were labeled with numbers instead of their names, and none of them looked or smelled recognizable. _Of course_ , she thought. This was the Department of Mysteries. All of these had to be experimental.

She heard the door rattle again.

Lydia took another deep breath and tied her hair up in a bun. “Okay, Lydia, time to play Potions Master.”

 

|~~***~~|

 

There was a lingering musk in the room. Stiles was positive that if he could smell it, then Derek must have been drowning in it. The room was filled with Stiles’ heavy pants and groans coupled with Derek’s guttural grunts. The sound of skin hitting on skin and the wet slide of it was so downright dirty that Stiles let out a loud, high-pitched whine.

The young man had one of his legs almost completely hooked over the Alpha’s shoulder while the other one was threaded under Derek’s arm and around his waist, his heel digging into Derek’s lower back to urge him on. Derek made a mental note to thank Jackson for their flexibility training for Quidditch.

Derek moaned against Stiles’ neck as his cock slid against Stiles’, their combined precome making every thrust deliciously slick. “Fuck!” Stiles cried, his fingers gripping tighter onto Derek’s biceps as Derek continued thrusting. Derek gave a cocky grin, and Stiles groaned in frustration.

“How are you even real?” He demanded, letting go of one of Derek’s arms to yank Derek’s short strands of hair and pull him into a bruising kiss.

They both moaned into each other’s mouth, and their kiss turned messy, saliva coating their mouths and dripping off their chins. Merlin, Stiles sure had missed this. He was so grateful that not only had Derek decided to share a room with him that night, but he had also remembered to cast a silencing charm, because the sounds the both of them were making would have woken the whole manor.

Derek shifted his angle to slide his cock against Stiles’ balls. Stiles broke their fervent kissing to throw his head back and shout Derek’s name. Derek thrusted forward again, one hand sliding down to grab a handful of Stiles’ ass while the other gripped between his shoulder blades. He rocked them together even harder, and Stiles’ brain immediately conjured up the image of a permanent indentation in the shape of Derek’s dick on his nutsack.

The thought made him laugh.

Derek slowed a little, “What?”

“I want a tattoo of your dick on my balls.”

“Oh my god, Stiles,” Derek whined, but he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yes!” Stiles cried. “With a little flourish of a note saying, ‘Derek comes on this fine pair of testicles.’”

“Please stop,” Derek laughed.

“Why? They say your orgasm harder when you laugh,” Stiles grinned.

“How do you even,” Derek paused to moan at the continuing slide of skin on skin, “Know this?”

Stiles grunted even as he continued to smile. “Slytherins have no filters.”

“I noticed,” Derek moaned again. “Fuck, how are you still talking coherently?”

“Maybe you should shut me up,” Stiles laughed through heavy pants.

Derek raised a brow. “Is that a challenge?”

“Anytime Person A says shut up and Person B says make me, it is automatic permission for Person A to ravish them.”

Derek laughed and then hiked Stiles’ legs up higher, changing his angle again. On the next thrust, his dick brushed against Stiles’ ass cheeks, making the young man whine high in his throat. Derek leaned down and nipped Stiles’ ear, “Oh, I’ll do more than ravish you.”

“Fuck,” Stiles cried, rocking with the motion.

Both of them could feel their orgasms approaching, but before either of them could tip over the edge, they both heard the door open.

 _“Oh fuck!”_ They heard five voices shout, the door immediately slamming shut.

Derek stopped moving and looked incredulously down at Stiles as the Slytherin shouted, “You didn’t lock the door!”

“I did!” Derek shouted back.

“Danny unlocked the door!” They heard Isaac shout.

“Sure did,” Danny confirmed unabashedly. “Nice ass, Hale!”

“Merlin’s fucking Beard.” Stiles bemoaned.

“Hey, both of you guys get dressed, right now. We need to talk to you,” came Boyd’s no-nonsense tone.

Derek and Stiles shared a significant look. They reluctantly broke away from each other, standing as their erections softened from the interruption. They rushed around for their clothes.

“We’re good!” Stiles yelled once they were dressed. The door opened and the werewolves all groaned.

“Fuck, it smells disgusting in here!” Jackson gagged, covering his nose.

Derek rolled his eyes and sent everyone into the hallway, shutting the door behind them.

“What happened?” He asked.

“The girls are missing,” Boyd said seriously. “Kira left a note.” He brought the parchment chest level. Derek reached out and snatched it out of his hand. Leaning around his boyfriend, Stiles read the document over his shoulder. It read:

_Lydia and I had some vision about Lycaon? Rising we think. We are going to the ministry to talk to Stiles’ dad. Be back in a few._

_-Kira_

“We need to go to the ministry now,” Derek ordered.

The guys nodded. They sprinted outside the apparition wards.

“Wait!” Isaac yelled against the rain and wind that was picking up. “I can’t apparate. Neither can Stiles or Jackson.”

“Yeah, and I’ve never been to the ministry.”

“I’ve got Jackson,” Danny said, knowing the guest entrance from his father who worked as a cursebreaker.

“I’ve got Stiles and Boyd,” Derek said. “Scott, can you take Isaac?” Scott nodded.

They shared one last look between each other before apparating to London.

Much like the girls, they grunted against the downpour of rain as they arrived outside the entrance. Derek eyes flashed red, and without hesitation, he bounded to the telephone box. It was way too tight a fit for all of them, and the grating sound of the automated voice set them all on edge, but they got through it and soon were sinking into the ministry.

They landed in the Atrium with no clear indication of where to go.

“Stiles,” Derek ordered.

Stiles understood without being told. He took a deep breath, calling to his magic, and felt around for the girls. He gasped when he sensed something unexpected. “There are a bunch of werewolves downstairs.”

“Where?” Derek questioned.

“They feel pretty far below us” the Moonwalker replied.

Derek ran to the nearest lift with the others. Seeing the sign for Department of Mysteries, he pushed the correct floor button.

They reached the lowest floor, and when the lift doors pulled open, Derek took in the scene before him.

Ignoring the several werewolves lying unconscious on the ground, the pack went ahead to find the girls. When they turned the corner, they saw Cora dig her claws inside a werewolf's skull and slam his head against the wall. Allison was shooting spells from Cora’s wand, which had surprisingly accepted her easily. Kira was in the middle of taking a werewolf down, lightning crackling all around her. When the last werewolf fell, the boys stared at the girls in awe.

“What the hell took you so long?” Cora growled as she wiped her bloody claws off on the shirt of the closest unconscious body.

“What’s going on?” Derek asked, choosing to ignore his younger sister.

Cora glared at the boys. “We saw Blake and Morrell. Morrell is chasing her, and we sent Erica and Lydia after them to help.”

“Lydia,” Jackson gasped. He took off running ahead.

Derek looked to Allison, Cora, and Kira. “You good?”

“Broken hand, but that’s it,” Allison panted. Derek looked down and saw her wand hand completely purple. Adrenaline was clearly the only thing keeping her going.

“Okay, let’s go.”

 

|~~***~~|

 

Lydia felt the room fogging up quickly as she stirred a potion. She had a very vague idea on what she was doing; she just hoped it would work. She heard a groan as she worked.

“Finally!” Lydia cried as she saw Erica sit up. “I’m going to need your help.”

“What?” Erica groaned. She looked around in a haze, but startled fully awake when the door rattled under the force of the werewolves outside.

“How many are out there?”

“Three.”

Erica glared at the door from her place on the floor. “I can take them.”

“That’s nice, but I don’t want to take any chances.” Lydia grabbed a test tube and began to shake it furiously as she made her way around the table to Erica. She helped the girl stand. “I’m gonna need you to throw this in the cauldron when I open the door and pull us out right away. Think you can do that?”

“Of course I can,” Erica snarled.

Lydia grinned. “Good, we are going to need that confidence,” she commented. She handed the test tube to Erica before pushing the bookshelf out of the way, the ward beginning to splinter even more. “Ready?”

Erica stood crouched by the door. “Bring it.”

Lydia pulled open the door, and the werewolves, not expecting the door to be opened voluntarily, stumbled inside the room. Erica pushed Lydia out first and then threw the test tube into the cauldron as directed. She jumped out and shut the door quickly.

“Oh, hi Jackson,” Lydia greeted calmly, looking completely unrattled. Jackson jumped out of his skin when a large explosion sounded on the other side of the door. “Are the others here?”

Jackson took a while to compose himself before replying, “Yes, they’re right behind me.” Concerned, he caught her gaze. “Are you okay?”

Lydia smiled at his attention and nodded proudly. “I have everything under control.” There was a second explosion. Lydia hummed then looked at the bottom crack of the door as smoke began to seep out. “Oh, that wasn’t in my hypothesis.”

“Lydia! Erica!”

Both girls turned toward the noise and saw the rest of the pack running down the corridor. When they reached their friends, Lydia rolled her eyes before they could ask about the girls’ well-being and spoke sternly, “C’mon, we have a fox to chase.”

Derek shook his head and gave a small smile at his pack member’s continued focus.

Once more, the pack took off, this time running with Lydia and Kira leading the way. They ran past a room with hundreds, if not thousands, of glowing blue orbs, then slid into another corridor.

“C’mon!” Lydia yelled when they saw the familiar black door. She yanked it open, and everyone stumbled inside the dark room. No sooner had the door clicked shut behind them than a great rumbling echoed as the walls began to revolve very fast.

When it was finished, there were six doors all around them and everyone spun in place, trying to figure out which one to open.

“What’s the problem?” Boyd asked. “Let’s just try all of them.”

Cora shook her head. “No, my sister warned me about the Department of Mysteries; they have all got sorts of rooms designed to get people lost. We have to choose carefully.”

“Stiles, can you sense anything?” Derek asked.

Everyone turned to the Moonwalker, but Stiles was finding it difficult to concentrate in the dark room. For some reason, he couldn’t sense anything out of the doors. It was as if the room was isolated from the rest of the world. Embarrassed at his inability to help, Stiles simply shook his head.

Derek tried to hide his frustration when he asked, “Lydia, what room is it?”

She shrugged. “I’m not sure…In our vision, we looked up, and the ground disappeared beneath us.” Lydia pushed Jackson and Danny to the side as she approached the door on her left. “But…I sense something here.”

Derek huffed in frustration at her vague statement. “Like what?”

She glared at his impatience before focusing on the door once more. “I don’t know how to describe it…It’s like something that’s dead stops being dead.”

“Like it’s coming back alive?” Derek questioned.

“No, like…It disappears?”

“That sounds like our door then.” Derek decided. The pack stood behind him as he approached the door, his wand raised.

 

|~~***~~|

 

The room was larger than they had expected. It was dimly lit and rectangular, the floor sinking into a great stone pit some twenty feet below them. They were standing on the topmost tier of what seemed to be stone benches running all around the room and descending in steep steps like an amphitheater. At the center, there was a raised stone dais, upon which stood a stone archway that looked so ancient, cracked, and crumbling that Stiles was amazed the thing was still standing. But as he looked closer, his amazement morphed into horror. The swirling mass within the archway was moving so hauntingly that it seemed alive.

His eyes then quickly drew to the three figures standing by the archway. Peter, Blake, and Morrell looked to be in an intense conversation, when suddenly, Peter shoved Morrell to the ground and pointed his wand at her.

The pack scrambled down the benches as quickly as they could All of them were trying to shoot spells, and Stiles was attempting to cast his mountain ash at the trio, but all their efforts ricocheted off a shield Blake casted to guard them from the pack.

Peter looked on the verge of hysterical laughter, looking down at Morrell as he shouted, _“Avada Ked—”_

 _“Expelliarmus!”_ Derek screamed, managing to get a spell past Blake as she excitedly watched Peter’s every move.

Peter’s wand flew through the air, falling against the benches.Peter’s smile quickly faded. From within his robes he pulled a vase with wolves painted along the trim. He opened the vase, revealing ashes, and took a step back.

The pack took a collective step forward, but they weren’t quick enough to stop the crazed werewolf.

They watched in horror as Peter tossed the ashes through the archway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think of this chapter! Sorry for the cliffy.
> 
> For you tumblr peeps [sullenalpha](http://sullenalpha.tumblr.com/) has opened up an RPG blog based off my story, and they are currently accepting applications to join. You should check out the link to the [RPG page](http://sullenalpha.tumblr.com/post/140470807847/wizards-and-wolves-a-harry-potterteen-wolf)
> 
> And again thanks to [stucky-is-unbroken](http://stucky-is-unbroken.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Follow me at [twinklingpaopufruit](http://twinklingpaopufruit.tumblr.com/) for updates on my story, if you have any questions, or just want to talk.


	57. The Prophecy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The direct aftermath.

After Peter threw the ashes, the veil twisted into a giant, dark scab. It seemed to fight against the intrusion as the stone archway’s pebbles sprinkled to the ground. Despite its effort, the archway’s ancient, vulnerable magic succumbed to the ashes’ power. They sunk into the veil like heavy, muddy sand and swirled around until the veil was clear again.

The pack froze at the bottom of the amphitheater, breathlessly watching the nightmarish scene unfold before them.

Suddenly, the archway released a rumbling moan. Everyone could feel the magic beginning to fill the air around them. Even Peter and Blake, who has been so sure of themselves only moments before, could not will their bodies to move.

Stiles felt the hairs on his arm stand on end. He didn’t know what would emerge from the archway, but he knew that from the suffocating static of magic crackling around them it could only be something rooted in dark magic.

His heart skipped a beat as he saw the veil stretch like putty, warping as if something was trying to rip through.

The veil shrunk back to its original shape momentarily and then stretched further, its shape morphing until a claw suddenly tore through the barrier. It caught on the veil and pulled hard, the creature on the other side letting out a deafening roar as a small slit formed in the magical barrier.  The creature’s hand shoved at the torn fabric from the other side until a pale arm escaped its confinement.

Everyone in the room dropped to their knees, their hands flying up to cover their ears as piercing roars and howls echoed through the room. The cacophony of noises ground against everyone’s bones painfully, and they all squeezed their eyes shut against the sounds.

Only Stiles dared to look up. He saw another arm escape the veil. With two arms now free, the thing tore the veil in two as it squeezed its way out into the world. First, came a head of sandy blond hair, followed immediately by the rest of the creature’s form.

Instantly, the roaring stopped and the magic in the room evaporated, leaving behind an unsettling silence. Everyone slowly rose to their feet, each examining the figure cautiously.  

Stiles’ jaw dropped when he got a good look at the creature before them. Thanks to the Moonwalker book, his mind had conjured several horrid images of Lycaon, including depictions of ten-footed beasts or grotesque-looking wolves. The one thing the book had never prepared Stiles for was Lycaon taking the form of Deucalion, his body standing regally before them in Greek clothing.

Lycaon’s face mirrored Deucalion’s the night of the ritual, everything exactly the same except for the eyes. Deucalion’s had always been cloudy due to his blindness, but now they were a brilliant shade of bright blue. Stiles knew sight was not an issue for the creature from the way he observed the pack below him with much confusion. His blue eyes shifted to red when he saw Derek, presumably sensing Derek’s Alpha spark. The creature above took a step toward them.

Stiles and the pack flinched.

However, Deucalion—or Lycaon, or _Merlin knows_ who—was still anchored to the archway by his neck. He grunted in frustration when he saw a rope of the veil’s substance attempting to tug him back into the barrier’s hold. .

Peter’s giddy laugh broke everyone’s trance. He gave the creature a fatherly smile. “Let me take care of that for you,” Peter offered kindly.

He shuffled slowly toward the creature, gauging his reactions. The creature tilted his head, observing Peter more like a beggar than a threat.

“Who are you?” The creature questioned with distaste. Again, Stiles’ expectations were completely wrong; instead of a haunting, mystic voice, the creature simply used Deucalion’s voice.

“Your savior,” Peter replied confidently once he was sure the creature would not harm him. He gestured at the creature’s bound neck as if to prove his point.  “I can grant you the freedom you’ve desired; I can sate the bloodlust coursing in your veins; but first you must allow me to help.”

The creature thought it over. Meanwhile, Blake, in the form of the professor she once posed as, was gasping in relief, acting as if she had been granted salvation herself. Morrell continued to lie on the floor with a blank face as she eyed the body of her dead husband. The pack still could not find their voice; the werewolves felt incredibly weak as they stood below the creature, and that meant the others felt even more helpless.

“State your conditions,” The creature finally commanded.

Peter chuckled, “Oh, you are wiser than I expected.”

Lycaon narrowed his eyes. “I am a King, and I know better than to accept aid from peasants so foolishly; they all desire something in return.”

“Is that what you think I am? A peasant?” Peter laughed hysterically, “I am a werewolf, just like yourself. Your own magic courses through my body, too.”

The creature’s eyes widened, now sensing Peter’s lycanthropy. “How will you free me?”

Peter smiled beatifically at him. “I can cut the veil, but I need to sever its ties within you to set you free.”

“And why would you do such a thing?” The creature asked. “Even my own followers would not free me. They all feared me, as all should.”

“And so do I,” Peter confided. “But I need your strength and cunning to murder the people who have done my own flesh and blood wrong. I need your power. You give me that, and I will set you free.”

The creature inhaled sharply through his nostrils. “Then, I accept your conditions. Vengeance for Freedom.”

Peter dropped his theatrics immediately and thanked the creature. He finally stepped behind the creature. He grew his claws and placed them around the spot where the veil connected to Lycaon. Without warning, Peter sunk his claws at the creature’s neck. The creature grunted in pain, falling to one knee. Peter, grinning maniacally, bent over him and in his ear loudly declared, “But remember this: you may be the King, but I am your ruler.”

The rope snapped back into the archway. The creature struggled under Peter’s sharp hold, but Peter held firm. Both released a terrifying scream. Blake took a step forward, but Peter growled through clenched teeth, “No! I’ve almost gotten him to submit.” Blake nodded tentatively even as her eyes hardened, her hand tightening against something inside her robes.

Lycaon’s eyes began to droop, and Peter let out a weak laugh as the creature stopped thrashing and bared his neck willingly. Peter panted in exertion but released him.

Peter sauntered around Lycaon until he was directly in front of him. “Lycaon, King of Arcadia!” Peter addressed loudly. “Who is your ruler?”

Lycaon growled under his breath.

“Who is your ruler?” Peter shouted again, grabbing Lycaon around the neck to meet his eyes. Peter’s eyes glowed blue again.

“You are, my master,” Lycaon finally yielded.

Peter grinned and turned away from Lycaon to observe the unmoving pack. They all stood together, wide-eyed in their shock, unable to make any sort of move against him. His grin doubled in size.

“It’s too late, children. Lycaon is free.” He glanced over his shoulder as Lycaon rose to his feet. “Nothing can stop us now.” He gave a curt nod to Blake, signaling that it was safe for her to approach. She walked cautiously to the pair as she removed a cloth-covered chalice from the pocket of her robes.

Suddenly, the only door in the room slammed open. A team of aurors, including Stiles’ father, barged in, and when they saw Peter, Blake, and Deucalion’s suddenly-revived body, they all automatically began firing spells.

Peter only rolled his eyes and ordered, “Roar.”

Lycaon immediately let loose an ear-splitting roar, accepting Peter’s first command without question.

The roar affected everyone in front of Lycaon. The aurors and the pack once more collapsed to the ground, clutching at their heads and screaming in fits of pain. None of the aurors could fire a spell or do a damn thing but watch as Peter and Blake touched the chalice and disappeared with Lycaon, the roar coming to an abrupt halt when the creature vanished.

There was a long moment of utter silence as everyone slowly got back to their feet. Stiles felt everything within him shaking, almost like the beginning of a panic attack. Through the fog of the oncoming breakdown, he barely felt two strong arms wrap around him. A hand cupped the back of his head and brought his face to a neck. He thought it was his father for a second, but then he felt stubble rub against his temple. Stiles clutched at Derek’s waist as his body gradually stopped shaking. He sagged into Derek’s embrace, wishing they could stay like that forever, but unfortunately, Derek did not let the hug linger. With one last comforting squeeze to Stiles’ neck, he pulled back to check on the rest of his pack. Stiles’ eyes fell to Morrell, who was climbing down the stone dais.

Her eyes were vacant and unfocused, and her trembling hands were holding the sides of her robes in a death grip. She looked--well, she looked like someone who had just seen her dead husband’s body playing host for Lycaon.

Stiles jumped when his father broke the silence. “I want every auror and trainee out there looking for them. Now.”

Several of the aurors left with only a nod of acquiescence.

“And you, sir?” Auror Parrish asked.

John sighed deeply. “I am graced with the task of telling our Minister.”

Parrish’s eyes widened. “And you’re going to tell her what, exactly?”

“That the most dangerous werewolf has been set free,” John stated simply.

“Good luck, sir,” Parrish responded. He looked around at the shaken pack and did his best to give them a reassuring smile before he left.

When the door closed, John looked at the pack with a blank face.

Derek spoke up first. “Cora and the other girls came to the Ministry to search for you and warn you of Lycaon’s rising, but there was an incident. I'm sure you saw their welcome gift at the entrance of the Department of Mysteries.”

“Yes,” John sighed. “The werewolves were apprehended and are now in custody.” He looked at Lydia inquisitively. “Did you have a vision of him rising?”

Lydia nodded softly.

John took a deep breath. Stiles could see his father was maintaining a façade of calmness, but inside he was dead tired. The deep breaths signaled he was barely holding it together.

“All of you did well,” John said.

“Lycaon was raised,” Boyd said bitterly, being the first one of them to voice it aloud. “I wouldn't call that doing well, sir.”

“You all survived. That is doing well, considering…” John took another breath.

“Considering that we failed?” Erica snapped next.

“None of you are to blame,” John interjected, cutting her off quickly. “If anyone is to...the other aurors and I should have been here to help, but we were tricked. The ministry had been ambushed. More werewolves than we could count raided the place, and we were forced to evacuate everyone. Diagon Alley was hit as well, so we took a team there while the other aurors were still busy with evacuation. Auror Parrish was the one to suggest all of this was a distraction, but by the time we got here…”

No one knew what to say to the man’s obvious guilt, so there an uncomfortable pause.

John just plowed through the silence. “C’mon then, let's get you all back home.”

They all wordlessly agreed and began the climb back up the steps to make their way back to the Atrium. They passed through all the same corridors and rooms, and when they were in the room of glowing orbs, the pack began to separate into their individual friend groups for comfort.

Allison was walking with Lydia, each with an arm wrapped around the other. Lydia had laid her head on Allison’s shoulder, and Allison was doing her best to distract herself by focusing on her surroundings. Something caught Allison’s eye, and she came to an abrupt halt, causing Lydia and subsequently Jackson to stop with her.

“Is that...?” Allison questioned, stepping closer to one of the orbs. “How do you even pronounce that?”

Jackson looked over her shoulder and let the familiar name fall effortlessly from his lips. “What the hell?” He muttered. He looked to the pack, who was still walking down the corridor.

“Stiles!” Jackson shouted. His voice was jarring in the room’s solemn silence. Everyone suddenly stopped. “Come here.”

Stiles scrunched his face and made his way back. “What?” He asked distastefully, decidedly not in the mood to deal with Jackson’s antics.

Jackson scoffed at Stiles’ rudeness and just pointed to the orb on a shelf in front of them. Stiles’ eyes widened at seeing his real name printed on the orb.

“What is this?” He breathed, reaching for the glowing sphere. And he really should have known better than to touch anything within the Department of Mysteries, but he unthinkingly reached out and grabbed the orb.

Everything went out of focus as he heard a voice emanating from the orb. Stiles gasped when it finished and he felt his eyes already brimming over with tears.

“What?” Jackson asked. “What is it?”

“You didn’t hear it?” Stiles asked, voice cracking.

Jackson shook his head confusedly. “Hear what?”

Stiles’ hand began to shake as he looked around at everyone’s concerned faces. Had no one really heard that pile of bull? His eyes landed on Morrell, who was looking at the orb rather than him.

“You!” Stiles shouted, marching to her. “Do you know what this is?” He held the orb to her face. She didn’t even blink.“I have an idea,” She said coldly.

“An _idea_?” Stiles demanded, his anger quickly rising. Without hesitation, he slammed the orb to the ground. It shattered immediately, and everyone’s voices rose, trying to get him to calm down. “Do you know what I heard?”

“Most likely,” she said again, her voice and face not betraying anything.

Stiles temper flared stronger. “Oh, that’s just great!”

“Stiles,” His father chided. “What’s going on?”

“Everything,” Stiles told his father as he glared at Morrell.”You know, don’t you?”

“Yes,” She said.

Stiles clenched his hands into fists. “Who else knows?”

“Several people; most of them are already dead,” Morrell said, and for a moment he saw something in her eyes, but she hid it so quickly that Stiles could not attach it to any emotion. “So does my brother.”

“Deaton!” Stiles screamed in her face.

“I had tried to tell you, but—”

“No!” Stiles yelled again. “I’m not having this conversation here. Take me to Deaton!”

Morrell shook her head. “Stiles—”

“No!” Stiles knew he was being childish and was scaring everyone, but he didn’t care. _Fuck_! How could they do this to him? “Take me to Deaton. Now!” If she had been a werewolf, Stiles would have had no qualms of ordering her around. He was past that particular point of morality.

“Stiles. You need to calm down,” John ordered his son.

“Mr. Stilinski,” Derek spoke. “I think we should let Stiles go.”

“What?” John demanded, scandalized.

“Stiles needs to speak with our emissaries.” His eyes scrunched as he tried to read Stiles. “Alone.”

“Thank you,” Stiles mouthed.

John narrowed his eyes at the pair of them. “If you think I am going to let you out of my sight after Lycaon was just set free—”

“He will be safe with me,” Morrell interjected. “And with my brother. We will send him back home via floo. Do not worry.”

She placed a hand on John’s shoulder.

John clenched his jaw but consented regardless. The walk back to the Atrium was an awkward one. Everyone could feel the tension, but no one wanted to say anything. Finally, at the main floor, Stiles grasped onto Morrell’s arm and hauled her to one of the mantles. They made direct eye contact before she spoke Deaton’s name and home.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Stiles stormed through the flames, not caring that they had not diminished yet.

“You—you— _Merlin_ !” Stiles shouted as he spotted Deaton in his kitchen making tea. “You knew, didn’t you? All this time, you fucking _knew_!”

Morrell was standing awkwardly in the living room. Stiles didn’t break his gaze as Deaton’s eyes fell to his sister. “You told him?” Deaton asked solemnly. Stiles was face morphed into disgust when he saw that he didn’t even have to say what he was angry about.

“No, she didn’t.” Stiles’ voice grew venomous. “I had to find out from a blue glowing orb that fit in my palm. Why didn’t you tell me?” He directed at Morrell.

“Because he told me not to,” Morrell said simply. “For years I buried my head and turned away. And then we stopped the ritual, and we thought there would be no need to tell you.”

Stiles made a strangled noise of disbelief at her excuses. “Well, look at what’s fucking happening now. Peter fucking Hale, who is under _your_ watch by the way, raised Lycaon. And because _you—”_ At this, he whirled around to glare at Deaton, whose face had filled with immediate panic at the news. “—chose not to tell me, I am now going to pay the price. So all I’m asking is why you decided to withhold this information. I deserve an answer.”

Deaton looked at his sister in bewilderment. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and sighed. “He’s telling the truth; I saw Lycaon rise with my own eyes. Peter stole Deucalion’s ashes threw them into some sort of spiritual barrier. I had been made aware of the situation too late and couldn’t stop Julia.”

Deaton sighed and turned his head away. “Stiles, this is not a simple situation and you know it.”

“I don’t know _shit_ about this, thanks to you!” Stiles cursed. He stomped closer. “This is my _life,_ and you kept it from me!”

“Your mother did as well.”

Stiles reared back at the sudden conversation change. “What?”

Deaton’s face became detached and impassive as he elaborated, “She told you not to walk on the moon. She tried in her own way to dissuade you from following this path—from spouting hateful werewolf propaganda to making you fear them and despise them, everything she did was for you. She did everything to keep you safe, and she probably paid with her life.”

“ _Stop it!_ ” Stiles screamed, pulling at his hair. “Stop trying to twist your words around and make me forget. This is about you. Why didn’t you tell me about any of this?”

Deaton shook his head. “Because I thought I could keep it all from happening.”

Stiles scoffed in disbelief. “Well, you certainly did a fantastic job of that.”

“I made a mistake,” Deaton claimed, his voice sounding pained.

“Forgetting to write your name on an essay is a mistake. Handing out a wrong grade is a mistake. _Hiding information about my life_ is something else entirely.”

“Stiles,” Deaton started, holding out his palms to try to calm him down.

“ _No_ ,” asserted Stiles, “you don’t get to defend yourself. How long have you known?”

“About the prophecy?” Questioned Deaton, his eyebrows raising slightly. “Years before you were even born.”

Anger and disgust finally gave way to emptiness. Stiles’ shoulders slumped, and he shook his head in defeat. He looked up at Deaton to find regret in his features. Though Stiles knew there was an apology wanting to emerge,  Deaton was an adult who knew a transgression like this couldn’t be fixed with a simple apology. Stiles sighed, deciding he was done trying to deal with the situation.

“Thanks for everything and nothing,” Stiles chose to say before he parted.

He went back to the mantle and, taking a handful of floo powder, Stiles vanished into smoke.

When he arrived home, he expected to see the pack waiting for him. Instead, he only saw his father pacing in front of the fireplace. His father’s distraught face changed into one of relief as he came to his son with open arms. Stiles hugged him tightly, but his mind was blank, so he couldn’t register much of his father’s feelings.

John pulled back and held his son at arms’ length. “Stiles, what happened back there?”

Stiles ignored the question, avoiding eye contact with his father. “Where’s the pack, Dad?”

“I sent them upstairs to rest,” his father answered.

Stiles almost smirked at that. If he knew his friends, they weren’t going to be resting like his father hoped.

“—the orbs?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Stiles blinked, realizing in his musings he’d missed his father asking a question.

His father let out a resigned sigh and repeated, “At the Department of Mysteries, what happened inside the room with the orbs?”

Stiles’ mental walls went up. “Nothing. I just overreacted to watching all that—”

“Stiles,” his father interrupted, stopping the lie before it really got started, “I may not be an Unspeakable, I may not have access to secrets like those, but I have a vague idea of what that room is. They call it the Hall of Prophecy, and Jackson said one of those orbs had your name written on it. What did you hear, Stiles?”

“Noth—”

“Don’t you dare lie to me, Stiles,” his father warned

Stiles met his father’s eyes. They were puffy and red, and the bags underneath them were darkly prominent.

“It was about mom,” Stiles lied. He looked away from his dad; lying was easier when he didn’t have to look his father in the eye. “It talked about how she was meant to die. That’s it.”

John’s face softened, and he pulled Stiles into his arms again. “Stiles, you know you don’t have to keep anything from me, right?”

“I know, dad,” Stiles replied, voice cracking. He wrapped his arms around his father’s back, breathing deep into his father’s neck, memorizing the warm, homey smell of him just in case.

John held him for a few more moments before he reluctantly pulled away. “I have to go back to the Ministry and debrief the aurors and the Minister.”

Stiles rubbed his eyes and suppressed a yawn in reply. John forced a smile and said gently, “Go up to bed and rest, son.”

Stiles nodded. “You should too.”

“I need to take care of this, first,” sighed John. “I’ll come back home as soon as I’m done speaking with the Minister.”

“Fine,” Stiles conceded with a warning glare. His father had a bad habit of not taking care of himself when shit hit the fan.

His father stepped around him to go the fireplace. Stiles watched him go and stared at the empty fireplace for a long minute. His mind slowly whited out into the staticky blankness that had consumed it since his conversation with Deaton.

How could he process what he had learned from the orb? It couldn’t be real, could it?

Stiles’ fingers dug deep into his hair as he tilted his head back. The wallpaper on the ceiling grew blotchy and blurry as tears collected in his eyes. He fought to hold them back as the voice replayed again and again, but they spilled over and ran down his face in streaks. He stood rooted in place for Merlin knows how long, letting the hopelessness he felt wash over him until he felt a little less like he was drowning. He took a shaky breath or two and then headed up the stairs to his room.

As he pushed open the door, he nearly tripped as Scott threw himself at Stiles. Stiles caught his friend round the middle, and when Scott tried to pull back to look at his face, Stiles only held on tighter. He buried his face in Scott’s neck, wishing he was a werewolf so he could scent his friends when he needed it most.

“Stiles?” Scott whispered, trying to loosen his hold so he could make eye contact.

Stiles just shook his head and tightened his arms, silently begging him to not let go. Scott spun them around and looked over Stiles’ shoulder at what could only be the rest of the pack gathered on the bed.

Stiles’ breath hitched as he felt a familiar hand at his lower back. The hand slid gently around his waist and gave a very soft nudge away from Scott’s body. Stiles let Scott go and immediately latched onto Derek instead. His arms went to Derek’s waist, but Derek softly pried them off and hooked them around his neck instead. Stiles  felt Derek’s hands behind his thighs, tugging him upwards. Stiles’ legs wrapped around Derek’s waist, and he let himself be carried to the bed.

Derek set him carefully in the middle of the mattress, still holding on to Stiles. Stiles felt the bed shift as a few of his packmates climbed off to make room. Derek maneuvered them so he rested against the headboard with Stiles straddling him, Stiles’ face tucked into his neck. The world was reduced to the soft, woodsy smell that was purely _Derek_. Stiles wanted to stay like this forever.

Derek placed two heavy hands on his waist and nudged his cheek with his nose.

“Stiles?” Derek whispered in his ear.

“No,” came the muffled reply.

“Stiles, you need to tell us what happened?”

Stiles burrowed even further into the crook of Derek’s neck. “No.”

Derek’s thumbs began soothing circular strokes onto Stiles’ ribs. “You need to tell us so we can help.”

“No,” Stiles said petulantly.

“Stiles, please,” Derek begged. Stiles rolled his head back and forth along Derek’s shoulder.

“I’m going to die,” he stated.

“What?” Derek’s hands tightened around his waist in shock.

Stiles pressed his hands to Derek’s chest, pushing himself away to slowly climb off his lap. He sat beside Derek, who laid his hand on Stiles’ thigh reassuringly. Stiles finally looked at the others. Scott was sitting right next to him, and the others were precariously balanced on the edges of the bed, as if they were scared to spook him. The only ones sitting comfortably were Jackson, Danny, and Lydia, who were sitting horizontally on the guest bed pushed against the wall.

“I’m going to die,” Stiles repeated in the same blank voice. His hand sought out Derek’s thigh, trying to anchor himself. “The room we were in with the blue glowing orbs is called the Hall of Prophecy. Apparently there’s one attached to me.”

“What sort of prophecy?” Isaac questioned softly.

Stiles lowered his gaze to where Derek’s hand rested on his thigh, letting his gaze go vacant. Hearing the prophecy once was more than enough to burn it into his memory forever. He took a deep breath and repeated the prophecy to his pack, “ _The one with the moon flowing in his veins comes to vanquish The Once King of Arcadia brought forth from vengeance...he will be born on the eighth moon...lovers and mother will set the pieces before him...surrounded by one forged from silver, a lightning guardian, a creature that screams for death, and chasers of the moon...the King will overpower him, but he will die to kill, for the spirit must rise no more...the one with the moon flowing in his veins comes to die.”_

The uncomfortable silence that followed set Stiles more at ease. It was a relief to know that his friends didn’t know how to react any more than he did.

Finally, Scott said, “Maybe it’s not talking about you.”

“Uh...really, Scott?” Stiles turned his head to look at him, disbelief etched into his features. “How many people do you know who are Moonwalkers and are surrounded by werewolves, banshees, kitsunes, and hunters?”

Scott shrugged and looked down apologetically.

“What if it’s not true?” Allison whispered next.

Stiles scoffed and rolled his eyes, finding he still had the energy to argue after all. “It’s a prophecy. It doesn’t get more legit than that. I’m gonna have to die, and everything in my life has been leading up to that, which is kind of suckish.”

“I thought we stopped the ritual, though,” Lydia spoke up. “The prophecy shouldn’t even be happening to begin with. Why is Lycaon risen even after we stopped them?”

“Maybe they found a new ritual,” Erica suggested.

“They couldn’t have,” Derek said. “That was all they had.”

Kira raised a hand in question. “Maybe you didn’t stop the ritual like you think you did. What exactly did you do?”

This time Cora jumped in to reply, “We stopped three Alphas from sacrificing fifty werewolves under the lunar eclipse. That should have stopped it.” Her voice betrayed her bitter feelings toward the trials the pack had had to face that night. “I really do think they must have found another ritual, because we definitely stopped that one. Fifty werewolves didn’t die that night; we made damn sure of that.”

“Fifty?” Kira asked with a gasp. Stiles saw fear in her eyes, but he didn’t think it was due to such a high number of sacrifices. She stood slowly. “Why fifty?”

“Because Lycaon murdered his fifty sons,” Lydia explained.

Kira shook her head, “Lycaon _tried_ to sacrifice all his sons, but not all of them died.”

Everyone’s heads snapped to face her.

“What are you talking about?” Lydia demanded.

Kira pressed her lips into a thin line before saying, “Schools in Japan and Korea are required to take a course on Western and Asian Religions, including those that people consider myths, and in them we learned that all religious texts have different manuscripts and stories. Lycaon did have fifty sons, and he did murder them...all but one. His name was Nyctimus, and Gaia saved him from being killed.”

Realization seemed to dawn on Jackson’s face. “Only forty-nine werewolves died that night."  

“We fucked up,” Stiles whispered.

Everyone felt as if they had been stabbed through the chest.

“Great,” Jackson complained as he slouched onto the bed, “all that bullshit we did was for nothing. All we did was help them complete the ritual.”

The pack seemed at a loss for words. When Derek looked at the state of his pack, it was obvious that everyone had been shaken by Lycaon’s resurrection and  the news that they had only aided in itl. It was too much for one night. Derek climbed off the bed, and everyone looked to him for guidance. It was a little intimidating, but the pack clearly needed their Alpha.

“We will deal with this tomorrow. Everyone go back to their own rooms and get some rest,” Derek ordered.

The pack was slow to move, but they listened. Stiles was the only one to stay, but he just continued to stare vacantly at his lap. Derek sighed.

“C’mon,” Derek said as he dragged Stiles out of bed and into the bathroom. Stiles was lifeless and complacent, unnerving Derek. Derek went to the towel rack and grabbed a random hand cloth from the stack. He ran it under the tap, and when it was soaked, he slapped the towel onto Stiles’ face with a wet splat. Stiles jerked out of his state and shoved Derek, demanding, “What the hell was that for?”

“You can’t act this way,” Derek said, knowing he was being rough. “At least not in front of the pack.”

“Why?” Stiles whined.

Derek placed his hands on Stiles’ shoulders, willing him to listen. “Because they don’t only look up to me for guidance, and you know that. We both have to be strong for the pack right now.”

“Strong? Derek...” Stiles felt like crying again. “I’m going to die.”

Derek held onto Stiles’ shoulders tightly, saying fiercely, “I’m not going to let that happen.”

Stiles pulled away and shook his head. “Derek, it’s a prophecy. It’s going to happen no matter what.”

“Prophecies aren’t real,” Derek said, voice urgent. “Lydia has told us that countless times before--visions of the future don’t exist.”

Stiles stared disbelievingly. “Seriously? Does she even have any right to say that when she’s pulling death visions out of her ass? She saw Lycaon rise, Derek. And then she’s going to see me die.”

“And I am telling you,” Derek said slowly, “That we aren’t going to let that happen. We will find another way to stop him.”

“How?” Stiles’ voice cracked. “Because I’m the one who usually has a plan, and I have nothing, Derek. And you aren’t exactly The Master Plan Maker, so what idea can you possibly have?”

Derek ignored the jab, saying, “We are going to keep fighting. And…” Derek took a breath. “Tomorrow we are going to go investigate. Peter didn’t take everything back home. Maybe there is a clue as to how exactly their ritual came about, and we will work from there. Got it?”

Stiles nodded reluctantly. Derek gently dragged his thumbs under Stiles’ eyes, catching the tears that had gathered there. “Let’s go to bed,” Derek suggested, kissing him earnestly on the forehead.

Stiles followed Derek back to his room. They both shed their clothes down to their underwear and threw them on the floor. Stiles climbed into bed first and only got comfortable when Derek laid beside him. He curled into Derek.

“Derek?” Spoke Stiles tentatively. Derek hummed sleepily in response. “Can I trust you won’t think less of me if I’m weak in front of you?”

Derek looked down at his boyfriend, expression soft. “Of course not.”

Stiles felt himself break again. He had lost count of how many times he had broken down over the past few hours. He clutched tightly onto Derek’s chest and sobbed with little coherency, “I’m so scared, Derek.”

Derek held onto him and pulled Stiles nearly on top of him. “I know, me too.”

 

|~~***~~|

 

Stiles walked into the breakfast room with Derek, running a hand down his face tiredly. The pack members were slowly emerging from their rooms, some dressed and some still in their nightwear, yawning and colliding as they reached for juice, tea, or coffee.

Stiles sat at the table and buried his face in his arms. He lifted his head slightly, peeking at Derek. The werewolf was tired too, but still he reached into the pantry and began making breakfast. His movements betrayed his exhaustion, making Stiles feel ashamed and guilty. Stiles forced himself to his feet and help Derek prepare food for the pack.

The pack sat around the table, and when Lydia appeared, she used Jackson’s wand to transfigure some objects into another table and extra chairs to accommodate everyone.

No one was really speaking; there were hums and whispered exchanges, but no actual conversation. After Stiles fried the bacon and was loading it onto a large family plate, he saw his father walk into the kitchen. A quick glance at the clock revealed that it was eight in the morning. Stiles knew he had only gotten about four hours of sleep, but he bet his father had gotten even less, judging by the bags under his eyes.

Stiles handed his father his coffee and patted his shoulder, turning back to the food to help Derek load the toast onto another plate.

Derek and Stiles finally sat at the table with the others and began to eat. Stiles looked at his father and saw him nibbling on some toast and staring out the window above the stove.

“Dad?” Stiles started. Everyone turned to them. “What’s going to happen?”

“Extra security is going to be set up around the country,” his father answered without turning around.

“What happens to us?” Boyd asked suddenly.

John finally turned toward them and set his cup down before asking, “What do you mean?”

“When something like this happens, people tend to blame an entire group. Everyone is going to hate werewolves now more than ever.” John picked up his mug and sipped his coffee again before continuing, “The Minister hasn’t announced anything official yet. The top priorities right now are to track down Lycaon and kill him and to bring in Peter Hale for questioning.”

Cora dropped her fork, suddenly looking horrified. “Everyone knows about Peter now. That means they know that our family are werewolves. They are going to be hunting us down—and school—fuck, I can’t even—”

“Nothing has been released to the press yet regarding who was responsible for Lycaon’s revival,” John interjected, quick to reassure the now-terrified pack. “I’ll ask the Minister if she can keep that quiet under the pretense it would interfere with auror investigation. An auror’s first priority is always to keep the public safe, and that includes werewolves, despite what others may think.”

Cora let out a breath, and Stiles saw the tension in Derek’s shoulders melt away.

“Scott,” John said, “your mom won’t be home till the afternoon; several people were injured during last night’s attacks. St. Mungo’s is swarmed right now.”

“Were people turned?” Allison asked fearfully.

John shrugged. “Nothing’s has been reported yet, but it is highly unlikely. There weren’t any Alphas reported at the scene.” He looked over to the clock and nearly choked on his coffee. “Is that the time? I need to be back at the Ministry in five minutes.”

Stiles made a noise of protest. “Dad, you need to eat something.”

His father simply waved away Stiles’ worries. “I’ll eat at the office. All of you, stay put,” he added as he rushed out of the room to use the floo.

The pack waited for a few seconds before engaging in their own conversation.

“So what are we going to do?” Scott asked.

“We’re going to go to my place to investigate the ritual Peter used,” Derek said authoritatively.

“Well, _I’m_ not going to be doing anything,” Lydia said, smiling sardonically. When everyone looked at her curiously, Lydia rolled her eyes and reminded them, “I’m going to be useless. I have no wand, remember? I’m assuming Diagon Alley is shut down after the attack, so I can’t go to Ollivander and get a new one. Same goes for Allison.”

“You can use mine,” Jackson said, sipping his tea. “You’ve always been able to use it.”

Lydia narrowed her eyes, “Of course I’m going to be using yours, but using someone else’s wand never works as well as using your own. I want mine.” She put her utensils down.

“You can use mine, too, if it lets you,” Isaac told Allison. “I can’t use it outside of school yet anyway.”

Allison gave him a soft smile.

 

|~~***~~|

 

The pack had gone to the Hale home shortly after they ate. All of them were squeezed into Peter’s room, looking for anything that would help them find him. All they found was random nonsense scattered around. His room held nothing really worth mentioning other than his apparent strange fascination with Witch Weekly. Stiles was nearly ready to give it up, but then he remembered the pensieve. He pushed off Peter’s dresser and walked to the full-length mirror at the side of the wall.

He pulled out his wand and tapped the frame. The mirror popped open.

Stiles stepped back and the rest of the pack looked on curiously.

“Where’s the pensieve?” Derek spoke behind him.

“Morrell came for it,” Cora answered. “At least, that’s what Laura said.”

Stiles ignored them and reached blindly inside the mirror. His fingers grazed a knob for a compartment, and he caught it and yanked it open, pulling out a drawer with wads of paper.

“What’s this?” Stiles asked, holding the drawer and shuffling through the papers.

Lydia stepped forward and took the papers from Stiles.

“What the hell?” Lydia asked, clearly annoyed.

“What?” Derek asked her.

She rolled her eyes. “Peter left a note saying, ‘Have fun with this now-useless document. It’s a set of instructions on how to raise Lycaon along with our analysis of them. None of these notes point to a way to stop Lycaon, but by now I am sure you have a vague idea of what stopping him will entail. Signed, Peter.’”

Derek growled low under his breath and snatched the paper to read it himself. Meanwhile, Lydia and the others were looking through the large amount of notes on the ground.

Lydia found the document Peter referred to in his note, and when she finished reading it, she handed it silently to Stiles. Stiles gave her a confused look and read over the ritual.

_A night of cold air and unseeing eyes_  
_The King of Arcadia shall rise_  
_The Father of Wolves carrying vengeance so unconstrained_  
_A master waiting to take the flame_  
_Unfulfilling power of will_  
_Has the spirit wandering in the between still_

_The death of his sons remade_  
_Along with the blood of the ones he swayed_  
_Dropped on the marks drawn of his temple_  
_On crowded trees so dense and so gentle_  
_Blood of that who slain_  
_And screaming blood in veins_

Stiles felt like someone punched him in the gut.

“You get it?” Lydia asked coldly.

Stiles nodded, rubbing his forehead. He placed the paper in the middle of the rest, and everyone to read it.

“I don’t get it,” Erica said. “What does it mean?”

Lydia sighed and pursed her lips. “Well, it explains clearly why Lycaon took so long to revive. ‘The Spirit wandering in the between still.’”

“The veil?” Kira asked.

“Exactly. Someone with strong will had to pull him out, and that was Peter...but that’s not the worst of it. ‘Blood of that who slain, and screaming blood in veins’ means the ritual is calling for the blood of a Moonwalker and a Banshee.” Lydia finished.

Stiles continued for her, “Kali and Ennis had sought us out. They could have killed us both but only chose to spill our blood during the ritual. If we hadn’t been there, Lycaon would had never come back alive.”

Derek sensed the aura in the room grow morbid again. He hurried to put a stop to it, saying, “What’s done is done. Everyone get up, let’s move downstairs.”

The pack listened, Cora immediately dashing downstairs. The pack followed her at a slower pace and settled around the living room as Cora went in search of the wireless.

“What are you doing?” Allison asked as Cora kept shuffling through stations.

“Trying to see if there’s any updates on the Lycaon thing,” she replied, fiddling with the contraption. She smirked in satisfaction when the static cleared and they heard a whiny male voice.

“All wizards living in southeast London should set up wards or evacuate to a safer location. Eye witnesses have seen numerous reports of werewolves in the city. Aurors are in the area trying to control the situation—”

“Southeast London?” Erica asked, very terrified. “Boyd’s and my parents live in Brixton area. We need to warn them.”

Boyd saw her evident panic and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, saying in his calm voice, “We’ll call them; tell them to stay put.”

Erica nodded as Cora went out to go search for the rarely-used home phone. She came back with it, and Erica immediately dialed her mother’s cell. She bit her lip as the phone kept rang out and went straight to voicemail. “She’s not answering.” She tried her father next, receiving the same result. She handed the phone off to Boyd, who tried his parents but got no an answer either.

“The aurors might have cut off the communication centers for muggles,” Stiles said. “My dad said that in national emergencies, aurors do that to protect the International Statute of Wizard Secrecy.”

Erica got visibly more panicked.

“I’m sure they’re safe,” Isaac offered, going to Erica and trying to comfort her.

Stiles looked up at Derek, who licked his lips in contemplation. He stood up and went to the closet by the door, grabbing his wallet and a set of his keys. He tucked them in his pocket as he said, “Erica, Boyd, c’mon. We can’t apparate to such a public location, but I’ll drive you both there to make sure they are okay.”

Erica and Boyd stood quickly. In their rush, they ran straight past Derek and outside to the parked car on the driveway, waiting impatiently for their alpha to come outside. Derek glared at the others before he left, saying, “The rest of you, stay put.” He slammed the door and the pack listened to the car start up and quickly take off down the road.

“You really think their parents are safe?” Danny asked Isaac as they continued to listen to the wireless drone on.

“Boyd’s and Erica’s parents recognize magic. They’ll be smart enough to stay out of it, hopefully,” Isaac answered. His attention shifted to the wireless as the announcer’s voice grew louder.

“Breaking news: It has now been confirmed, aurors have fired spells in muggle residence…”

“We need to go help,” Scott automatically said, expression fierce.

“Why? The aurors are there to handle it,” Danny said, watching in confusion as the others were already standing and grabbing their things.

“Because we are the ones who caused this mess,” Stiles retorted.

Danny sighed and reluctantly stood. “How are we getting there then?”

“I can take my bike,” Scott said quickly. “I’ll see you guys in ten minutes.”

Stiles consented and watched Scott rush to the fireplace to floo to his own home.

Allison spoke next. “I’m gonna go get my bow and my dad’s other weapons,” she said before leaving as well.

Stiles looked over to Cora and asked, “How are we getting there?”

“We can take the underground,” she responded easily.

“The what?” Stiles asked cluelessly.

Cora rolled her eyes. “It’s a transportation system muggles have under the city.”

All the wizards looked at her in disbelief.

“Are you telling me muggles have a secret underground city?” Isaac questioned.

Cora knew explaining would be useless, so she just huffed and said, “Yes. There is a secret city, Isaac.”

Allison appeared through the fireplace again, carrying a large old trunk. She dropped it on the coffee table and clicked it open.

“Whoa,” Stiles remarked, looking at all the shiny lethal weapons.

Allison only smirked at him over her shoulder. She pulled out her bow first and secured it behind her back. Next she took some random Chinese daggers and tucked them in her robes. Stiles had no Earthly idea what the other stuff was, but Allison was tucking it into all of her available pockets. She grabbed a few more daggers, looking like she wanted to hand them to Stiles and Isaac, but then she seemed to reconsider, turning to the rest of the pack instead.

“Lydia, Danny” Allison called, handing over two small daggers.

“Where’s ours?” Isaac complained.

“Um…” Allison hesitated, smiling awkwardly.

“She doesn’t trust you with a knife, you idiot,” Jackson mocked.

“Hey, that means she doesn’t trust you either,” Isaac shot back. He then glared at Allison. “I offered up my _wand_.”

“You did, and thank you for that.” Allison tried to laugh it off.

Stiles saw the smile forming on Isaac’s lips. His eyes narrowed between the two of them, and he caught Danny's eye, Stiles' eyes widening when the observant Slytherin only nodded. Stiles shrugged it off and waited for Scott to come back.

Scott made it in seven minutes, which meant he probably broke a few laws to get there that quickly. They heard the bike’s engine rev, and they rushed outside.

Scott pulled up the visor of his helmet. “I can only take one,” he stated.

Stiles knew Allison would be the most logical choice to go, and he was about to suggest it, but Allison spoke first. “Kira, you should go. Your magic is the only thing that really harms werewolves, apart from Stiles.”

Kira nodded confidently and hopped behind Scott on his bike. She made sure her katana was strapped securely on her back before she took the extra helmet Scott offered.

“We’ll keep everyone safe,” Scott assured.

Stiles stepped up to him and clapped his hand on his shoulder in support. “Keep yourselves safe, too.”

Scott nodded, and Stiles stepped back when Scott lowered his visor and drove off, Kira’s hair flying in the wind.

Stiles took a deep breath and turned the others with a confidence he definitely didn’t feel. He exhaled slowly before saying, “Let’s go.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not an hp au without a prophecy...
> 
> Tell me what you think of this chapter!! 
> 
> For you tumblr people [sullenalpha](http://sullenalpha.tumblr.com/) has opened up an RPG blog based off my story, and they are currently accepting applications to join. You should check out the link to the [RPG page](http://sullenalpha.tumblr.com/post/140470807847/wizards-and-wolves-a-harry-potterteen-wolf)
> 
> And thanks always to [stucky-is-unbroken](http://stucky-is-unbroken.tumblr.com/) I really need to build a shrine to her or something cause she's an amazing beta. 
> 
> Follow me at [twinklingpaopufruit](http://twinklingpaopufruit.tumblr.com/) for updates on my story, if you have any questions, or just want to talk.


	58. Skyscapes, Tinged with Dread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pack decides to take matters into their own hands and John is not having any of it.

Stiles yelped as Cora’s hand latched firmly onto his flannel shirt. He nearly tripped as she tugged him into the street. The others hurried behind them with fierce determination. Once they left the neighborhood and entered the commercial district, Stiles noticed the amount of eyes that followed them.

Parents pulled their children close and the elderly stared distastefully at Danny and Jackson. A few teenagers passing them on bikes giggled under their breaths. 

“Why are they all staring?” Jackson asked Cora snootily. Although as he caught an old woman’s stare, he unconsciously tugged on the collar of his robes, self-consciousness betraying his tone. 

Cora paused to read the street signs before turning on the next block. “You and Danny and are wearing wizard robes,” she explained. “Muggles think they look like dresses, which men don’t really wear.”

“These aren't dresses!” Jackson exclaimed. 

A few feet in front of the pack stood three teenage muggle girls loitering in front of a fish and chips bar. They laughed obnoxiously at Jackson’s exclamation. When they saw Cora, their red lips upturned into smirks.

“Hey Cora!” One of the girls shouted. She had dry, curly blonde hair in a high ponytail, her dark brown roots standing out in sharp contrast. “Back from boarding school?”

Cora halted abruptly in front of them. She immediately felt conflicted. If she ignored the three girls, they would draw more suspicion and alert the authorities, especially with the large crossbow strapped to Allison’s back. If the authorities came, they would waste even more time. She sighed, resigning herself to an uncomfortable conversation.

“Yeah,” Cora grimaced in response. 

“Who are these folks?” A girl with black hair asked. She appreciatively looked Jackson and Danny up and down, despite the fact that, in her eyes, the two were wearing women’s clothing. 

“Friends from boarding school,” Cora said simply.

“Really?” The blonde girl questioned, eyebrows shooting up. “They’re a strange bunch, aren’t they?”

Cora rolled her eyes internally. “Yes. Now if you don’t mind, we have to go.” 

“Go where?” The blonde pouted. “We haven’t seen you since primary school, and here you have such interesting friends. We should catch up!”

“Hey!” The third girl interrupted rudely. “Where’s your brother?” She smirked, and from the leer on her lips, her intentions with Derek were disgustingly obvious.

“Taken,” Stiles interjected, eyes narrowing at the trio. 

The three girls’ heads snapped to Stiles, smiles breaking out on their heavily made-up faces. They all squealed in delight.

“You’re Derek’s boyfriend?” The black haired girl gushed. 

“Yes,” Stiles stammered, crossing his arms in front of his chest defensively.

“Oh, that’s great!” The blonde cheered. “See! We have a lot to catch up on. I would love to meet all your new  _ friends _ from that fancy boarding school your sister, Laura is always bragging about to Mahaj at the Indian joint a few blocks down.” As she said the word ‘friends,’ her hand reached out to slide against Jackson’s arm.

“Excuse me,” Lydia sassed, “before you start manhandling other people’s boyfriends, use your eyes and intellect to read the situation. We aren’t interested in ‘catching up;’ in fact, we must be going. So step  _ aside _ .”

“Who do you think you are?” The blonde sneered.

Lydia took a predatory step forward. “I am Lydia Martin,” she said lowly, “and I could destroy all of you without even trying.” 

Cora groaned. She yanked Lydia away. “We don’t have time for this. Amber, I promise we will catch up later. We gotta go.” 

She pushed Lydia ahead and hoped the others would follow.

“Who were they?” Allison asked, looking over her shoulder. All three girls were wearing identically scandalized faces. 

“Amber, Jeannette, and Brianne,” Cora answered. “We went to school together.”

“I thought you lived in Sherwood Forest, though?” Stiles asked, nearly tripping over a passing biker. 

Cora sighed. She reached for Stiles and dragged him to her right side, away from the street. “I did. But my dad had wanted me to receive a muggle education, so when I was eight, I moved in with my aunt and uncle. The home we have now used to belong to them.”

“Oh,” Stiles said a little sadly, recalling her family’s faces. 

Allison stepped in and redirected the conversation. “How much farther?” 

“Just past that overhead bridge,” Cora informed. 

They all nodded and increased their pace. They passed the bridge and arrived at a large, brown-bricked building with a red circular sign bearing the word ‘UNDERGROUND.’

Cora went inside first, but when she noticed Jackson and Isaac standing stupidly in the doorway and marveling at the abundant technology, she rolled her eyes and turned back. She grabbed their wrists and marched forward, catching up to the rest of the group. She grumbled under her breath and maneuvered the group to the ticket stations. 

Using the little muggle currency she carried, she paid for their fares. She considered handing each one their tickets, but decided it would take too long to explain how the tickets worked, so she held onto them. 

She dragged the others to another area of the station. There was a set of stairs leading up, but in front of them was a gate with turnstiles. She made them go in a single file line so she could swipe their tickets and get them through one at a time. As she swiped Stiles’ ticket, the idiot crashed into the turnstile, the handle hitting his groin hard. Stiles groaned loudly and cupped his crotch. She rolled her eyes and pushed him forward as she went through herself. 

They rushed up the stairs and barely made it on time to board the train. They took the cart furthest back and sat together. Cora examined the train. Considering it was still morning, it wasn’t very full. They had the cart to themselves, and looking through the window in the hallway leading to the next cart, she only saw an elderly couple and a tired mom with her rambunctious child. 

“Why is it called the underground when we are above ground?” Isaac asked Cora curiously. 

“I don’t know, Isaac,” Cora grumbled, scrubbing a hand over her face. She was growing increasingly worried for the others and was struggling to keep it together. 

She watched as Stiles crashed into Danny once the train began to move. Danny complained and shoved Stiles into his seat. 

Cora shook her head and ignored them. Lydia leaned over Jackson to speak with Cora, asking, “So how do we know when we get there?” Cora saw her looking around the train with thinly-veiled disgust. Cora held back a snort at Lydia’s delicate sensibilities. In Lydia’s defense, it wasn’t the cleanest place to be. 

“Just five stops ahead. We get off at Victoria Station and board another one to Brixton to cross the Thames,” Cora said, pointing to a map printed overhead.

“And how long will that take?” Danny asked her.

Cora shrugged. “About thirty minutes.” She turned to Allison, spotting the bow. She pulled out her wand, deciding to cast a concealment charm on her bow. They had forgotten to in their haste to get to Brixton as quickly as possible. 

“Thirty?!” Isaac shouted. “That’s way too long!”

“It’s the fastest way there,” Cora remarked, tucking her wand back in her pocket and crossing her arms over chest. 

The pack rode the train the rest of the way in silence, and when Cora stood, the pack followed her lead. They boarded another train, this one traveling underground. It was much more crowded than the last. None of them could find seats, so they were forced to stand by the doors. 

“This is ridiculous. How can muggles stand to be treated like sardines in a can?” Lydia whispered. She caught a random man looking at her strange, tight wizard robes. attire a little too intensely. She sneered at the attention and placed herself between Jackson and Danny to avoid the man’s leering. 

“I don’t know,” Cora grunted, pushing a teenage muggle boy out of the way when he got too close to Allison. “I never liked riding these.” 

The muggle boy flipped her off; Cora just rolled her eyes and turned her back to him. 

“How many stops do we have left?” Stiles asked Cora a little anxiously. 

“We are already past one, we have two more.” 

When the train arrived at the second stop, a few people exited the train. The pack sighed as there was more breathing room. Jackson was appalled with the way all the male muggles were looking at the girls, so he made sure that the three newly empty seats in front of them went to the girls. The guys formed a barrier around them. 

“Okay, one more stop,” Cora said as the train once more began to move.

Cora frowned as she saw the lights on the train begin to flicker. She heard a loud screech and held onto Lydia and Allison as the train jostled in its hurry to stop. The guys held on tightly to an overhead rail and nearly toppled over. The train finally came to a halt and the lights went out. The pack looked around in confusion before a voice came over the speaker 

“This is your conductor speaking. I'm sorry riders, but there appears to be some technical difficulties up ahead. Please hold tight. We will resume our trip shortly.” 

“These aren't very reliable, are they?” Lydia admonished.

“No, they are usually pretty good,” Cora said distractedly. “They might be stopping us because of Lycaon. The aurors might be communicating with transportation to shut it all off.”

“What does that mean?” Danny asked. 

“That we won’t be moving anytime soon.” 

Jackson glared at Cora. “So how do we get there?” 

Cora looked to the door at the end of the cart, her mind working quickly. “I’ve got an idea, follow me.” She stood up and used her werewolf strength to push through the dense crowd. When they made it to the door, Cora took a moment to debate making such a stupid move. It would draw a lot of attention, but when she recalled the danger her pack was most likely in, she decided it was worth it and gave in to stupidity. She ordered Jackson to help her pull open the train doors. 

They took opposite sides and tugged as hard as they could, but it only opened a crack. The mechanical doors were much too heavy for them to open all the way. 

A few teenagers near them shouted in surprise, but when they saw their intention, they cheered the two on. Cora blocked out their annoying screams and asked Isaac to help them out. With Isaac’s help, the doors finally broke open. The three werewolves were left panting and staring at the empty tunnel now in their line of vision.

“C’mon,” Cora huffed. She jumped out and her shoes hit the gravel and train tracks underneath. She looked up at the pack. “Hurry up!”

They got over their shock and jumped below. A few rebellious muggles followed their lead and exited the train as well. The werewolves jumped onto the station platform and then crouched low and extended their arms to help the others.

Once the pack was safely on the platform, Cora noticed the obvious dissray and commotion: Muggles were rushing up the stairs, many of them shoving those who were too slow to keep up with the crowd.

“Is this normal behavior for muggles?” Isaac questioned.

“No,” Cora breathed out, very much confused. “C’mon.”

They followed the crowd up to the city. Arriving on the street, they were even more shocked at the organized chaos of muggles all running in one direction. 

 

Stiles held tightly onto Isaac as they nearly got separated. He desperately looked around for Lycaon, concluding this was the only reason why everyone was in such a fright. His eyes were drawn to Auror Parrish standing on top of a vehicle. 

Immediately, Stiles could tell that his voice had been charmed to speak over the muggles. None of the muggles took notice of his charmed voice, their minds focused solely on escape. “Repeat, everyone please evacuate in a clean orderly fashion,” Parrish ordered. “There is a toxic gas leak, everyone must evacuate.” 

Stiles saw a few muggle law enforcement officers helping evacuate as well. Stiles speculated his father must have gotten in touch with the head of Scotland Yard and gave him specific instructions to avoid any major casualties. The head of the Scotland Yard was one of the few people aware of the presence of wizards. Whenever he got orders from any high ranking official in the Ministry, he was forced to obey. 

Watching the chaos in front of him, Stiles barely realized he was being pushed with the crowd. He tightened his grip on Isaac’s arm. He spotted Lydia a few feet away from them clutching on to both Jackson and Danny. Stiles pushed forward to make sure they didn’t get separated. He stood on the tips of his shoes to look over the crowd for Allison and Cora, but he couldn’t spot them anywhere.

Stiles grunted in frustration. He continued moving with the push of the crowd until he saw that officers up ahead were directing everybody to a nearby church. 

He knew that once they were there, it would be difficult to escape unnoticed, so he grabbed onto Lydia’s shoulder and pointed to a nearby alley. Lydia nodded, and when they were near it, they slid inside quickly. 

They continued to watch the crowd as they took a moment to breathe.

“I saw Allison and Cora go the opposite way,” Lydia said once they had caught their breath. “They made it through the crowd.”

“Great, what about us?” Jackson complained. 

Stiles vibrated with energy as he was struck with an idea. “Follow me,” he said excitedly, moving further down the alley. The alley took them to a deserted street with several cars left unattended and still running. Stiles spotted a light blue car with black doors near the intersection up ahead, unblocked by other vehicles. 

Stiles ran to it and the others hurried to keep up. 

His body hit the car as he struggled to stop. He looked at the car and his eyes caught the word ‘JEEP’ imprinted on the side of the driver door. 

“C’mon,” Stiles breathed as he pulled open the door.

“Are you kidding me?” Lydia shouted, scandalized. “You want me to get in that?”

Stiles groaned, annoyed at Lydia’s attitude. “Do you have any other plans? This is the quickest way to the others. I think I can still sense them.”

Lydia’s jaw clenched. She sighed and went over to the passenger side. Danny and Isaac climbed in the back. 

Jackson walked over to Stiles. “Move over,” he said, shoving at Stiles.

Stiles shoved right back.  _ “What?” _

“I’m going to operate this thing,” Jackson said slowly, as if it was obvious.

Stiles scoffed. “Why you?”

“ _ Because _ ,” Jackson said in his usual pretentious voice, “I’m the only one of us here who has taken muggle studies. They taught us about these vehicles.”

“It’s called a car, you pretentious—”

_ “Stiles!” _ Lydia shouted at him. “We don’t have time for your little lovers’ quarrel! Just let him drive!”

Stiles rolled his eyes and climbed into the back seat. Jackson smirked a little too smugly and hopped in the driver’s seat. 

“You sure you know how to drive this?” Lydia nervously asked. 

“Of course,” Jackson grinned, all confidence. He reached for the keys left in the vehicle and turned on the ignition. The vehicle roared to life. Jackson smiled at Lydia. “See, not that difficult.” He looked down at the gear shift and his face froze. 

“Jackson?” Lydia questioned when Jackson remained immobile for quite some time. 

He flinched in the seat. “What?”

_ “Let’s go.” _

“Right.” Jackson nodded. “Ok, Professor Burbage said this is called the prndl and R stands for ride,” Jackson said with not enough confidence for Stiles’ taste. 

He moved the gear shift to R and pressed the gas pedal. Everyone in the car shouted as the car reared back. Jackson hit the brakes quickly, and everyone was jostled forward. 

“Umm…” Jackson muttered.

“Great Salazar!” Stiles shouted. “That’s it, I’m driving. I’ve seen Melissa drive enough times to at least know that’s not supposed to happen.” He shoved Jackson to the back and awkwardly climbed to the front. His jittery fingers tapped the steering wheel as he examined the gear shift. So if R was for reverse, then...He moved the gear shift to D as he had seen Derek and Melissa do and finally had the car move smoothly forward.

The pack calmed as Stiles began driving down the street. He tried to focus on his driving and sense the werewolves simultaneously, but he was having difficulty multi-tasking. 

Suddenly, he was hit full-force with the sensation of heat. He stopped the car immediately, and everyone groaned as they hit various parts of the car again. 

Stiles tilted his head up and he felt his breath quicken as he saw Lycaon standing in the middle of the road. Stiles’ hands tightened against the steering wheel. Lycaon didn’t appear to be an immediate threat as he observed everything around him. 

After a long moment, his eyes fixated on the car and its passengers. Lycaon took a deep breath through his nose, scenting the air, before his eyes turned red. He lowered his head and stalked forward.

“Stiles, you need to drive, right now,” Lydia commanded.

Stiles heard her clearly, but his body refused to cooperate with his mind. All he could see was Lycaon standing over him, ready to kill him.

“Stiles!” Everyone in the car shouted simultaneously.

Stiles jolted his seat. His hands gripped on the wheel to turn the car around. As soon as he pushed on the gas pedal, Lycaon chased after them. 

“Holy shit!” Stiles screamed incoherently, the car barreling down the street.

“Jackson!” Lydia shouted. “Your wand!” Jackson fumbled in his pocket and handed it over to her. Lydia lowered down the window and narrowed her eyes in concentration as she aimed the wand.  _ “Bombarda!” _ She exclaimed. Her spell hit against a fire hydrant and it immediately ruptured. The water gushed out, colliding against Lycaon and throwing him back several feet.

It bought enough time for Isaac to lean over and shout at Stiles, “Sharp left!” 

“What?!” Stiles shrieked. 

“DO IT, YOU’RE GONNA MISS IT!” 

Stiles spun the wheel, the tires screeching and skidding against the pavement as he turned. Everyone was painfully snapped to the left with the car’s momentum. 

“Okay Isaac, where are we going?” Stiles asked breathlessly.

“Not really sure. Turn right on the second light.”

Stiles pressed hard against the pedal, maneuvering around the abandoned cars. Before he could turn right, though, Lycaon jumped from one of the shop’s roofs and appeared in front of them.

“Fuck!” Stiles screamed. He slammed the breaks. 

“R! R!” Jackson screeched. He reached around Danny sitting in the middle to move the gear shift.

Stiles hit the gas pedal again, and once they were a safe distance away, Jackson shifted the car back to drive as Stiles made a sharp U-turn.

“He’s still after us!” Isaac moaned in fright. 

Danny groaned and pulled out his wand. He cast a spell, vanishing the window behind him. Through the window, Danny fired an assortment of offensive spells. Lycaon dodged each one with his speed. 

“Why is he after us?” Lydia shouted.

“Uh, he’s a crazy lunatic! Does he need a reason?!” Stiles yelled back. 

“Yes!” Lydia screamed. She leaned out the passenger window again and tried to shoot at Lycaon. She missed, and her spell caused a stop sign to melt. “Isaac, we could use your help.” 

“Allison has my wand,” he told her. “Holy Helga! Stiles, turn! Turn! Turn!”

“Where?!”

“I don’t care! Just turn!”

Stiles turned right just in time to avoid a car flying at them. 

“Oh fuck, he’s strong,” Jackson whispered in fright.

“Shut up, Jackson!” Stiles shouted, looking at the rear view mirror. “Where did he go?” 

In his distraction, Stiles didn’t notice that the train bars were lowering up ahead. When he finally looked at the road, Stiles screeched as he saw the train coming. In his distressed state, he pushed on the gas pedal harder. Those in the car with him were screaming loudly as he barely skidded past the train on time. He hit the breaks as soon as he passed through, taking a moment to breathe. 

“Can you sense him?” Lydia whispered. 

“Yeah, I don’t know where, though,” Stiles whispered back.

Before they could say anything else, Lycaon jumped out of nowhere onto the front of the car, crushing the metal with his weight. He crouched low on the hood of the car, glaring at everyone with his red eyes. Lycaon suddenly shoved a fist through the front window, and everyone’s arms flew up to protect their faces from the shattering glass. 

Stiles froze. He felt like someone was crushing his windpipe, making it impossible to breathe. He cowered under his arms. 

“Stiles, use your magic!” Lydia yelled.

Stiles went on autopilot. He extended his arm, eyes firmly shut, and shot a wall of mountain ash at Lycaon. It should have sent him rearing back in pain, but all it did was slide off his body. Stiles opened his eyes and stared at Lycaon in shock.

Lycaon’s eyes grew wide as well. He scrubbed a hand through his sandy blond hair to shake off the mountain ash. “You’re a Moonwalker,” He accused, his face growing vicious. 

Stiles started hyperventilating at the creature’s menacing tone. He could hear himself wheezing as the words of the prophecy echoed in his head: ‘ _ the one with moon flowing in his veins comes to die.’  _

_ “Stiles!”  _ Jackson shouted, his arm coming forward and gripping his shoulder tightly. 

Stiles gasped out in shock as he was thrust into reality. Immediately, red balls of light shot forward at Lycaon. The creature hissed at the pain and rolled off the hood of the car as Stiles hit the gas pedal, the pain obliterating his sense of balance. 

The car sped forward. Stiles, still reeling from shock, didn’t notice a river up ahead and wasn’t able to step on the brakes in time to stop them. The car crashed through the small fence easily. 

Everyone in the car shrieked as they tumbled into the river. Water engulfed the car quickly as it sunk to the bottom. They were all trying to hold their breath, but they were losing oxygen quickly and already sucking in water. Panic took over. Stiles turned to the side and saw Lydia with her eyes scrunched tight, reaching for him.

Before he knew it, Stiles was falling against the cobblestone ground and coughing out water. When he finally took a clear breath, Stiles grunted in pain.  _ “Fuck!” _ He pulled up his soggy pant leg. Three inches of his calf had been splinched in Lydia’s emergency apparating. 

Stiles looked up to see Lydia kneeling beside him, holding onto her forearm. Blood was drenching her hand and dripping onto the ground in sickening splats.

“Lydia,” Stiles panicked, reaching out for her. She shook her head, face pale, and reached out for the wand she had dropped. She muttered a healing spell, and Stiles watched her gash close messily. The skin on her arm now looked rough and bumpy. She pointed her wand at him next. His skin healed, but much like Lydia, the wound was disgustingly scarred.

Lydia took deep breaths and let her head hang between her shoulders.

Stiles breathed out deeply and finally examined his surroundings. He realized he was in the back alley of the Leaky Cauldron in Diagon Alley. 

His heart rate was staring to return to a normal rhythm. “Where are the others?”

“I saw Danny apparate first with Jackson and Isaac. I don’t know where he took them.” She stood up, her robes drenched and making a loud squelching sound as she moved. 

Stiles pushed himself up as well and hissed at the sharp pain in his leg. Lydia looked apologetic. “Sorry,” she murmured. 

“It’s fine,” Stiles insisted. “Hey, you think you can dry us?”

She sent him a nasty glare. 

He flinched, backing down in the face of that glower.

She took a breath, choosing to ignore Stiles’ stupidity. “I hope Jackson’s okay.”

“They all are,” Stiles said, remembering Derek’s words to stay strong. “Danny passed with flying colors on his apparating test.” 

Lydia nodded quickly, trying to calm down. “I need a wand.”

Stiles saw she was trying to prioritize the situation, so he agreed. “Yeah, you do.”

He pulled out his wand and tapped the bricks. The brick wall wriggled and a small hole appeared. It grew wider until they were facing an archway leading to a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight. 

The two of them stepped through and the wall shrank behind them. They sucked in a collective breath as they saw the state of Diagon Alley. 

All of its liveliness had been snuffed out. The usual bright lights that guided the path were all knocked down. Shops had their windows shattered, roof tiles were littered the ground, and the streets were in disarray. Shop owners were walking around, trying to repair as much as they could, but their magic could only fix so much. They would need to call in specialists, something that would cost many of these small business owners money they did not have. 

Stiles walked with Lydia down the street. No one paid them any attention. Many of them were too wrapped up in their own misery to notice that of others. 

Lydia and Stiles still felt deeply guilty for this destruction, so they kept their heads down until they reached Ollivander’s.

Outside his shop, Stiles noticed the sign had been blasted off and lay in a pile a few feet off with other rubble. The windows were cracked and chipped, and the door was barely hanging on by its hinges. Lydia and Stiles shared a glance before stepping through the door. The bell overhead fell off its rope and clinked to the ground, startling Mr. Ollivander, who had been crouching behind the desk.

He popped up, looking even more disheveled than usual. 

“Mr. Greenberg, I have told you I do not have a ladder—Ah! Ms. Martin, I haven’t seen you in years—and Mr. Stilinski, how do you do?” He made no mention of their wet state. 

“We’re managing,” Lydia spoke truthfully. “I need a wand.”

“Ah, what happened to the old one?”

“It got splinched with a spell.”

Mr. Ollivander’s thick grey eyebrows shot up. “That’s unusual for—applewood, am I correct?”

“Yes,” Lydia said, nodding. “It got splinched when I fired a spell and someone else grabbed it.”

The man clicked his tongue and shook his head. “That couldn’t have been too nice for the other individual.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Lydia agreed.

Mr. Ollivander clapped his hands together once. “Well, I’m a little busy trying to clean this place up, but you are free to roam around and see which one takes to you. I will help you in a bit, I just need to figure out this shelf.”

Lydia thanked him and stepped behind the bookshelf to peruse the wands in the back. 

“Would you mind helping me with a spell, son?” Mr. Ollivander asked Stiles nicely.

“Sorry, I’m underage,” Stiles replied with true remorse. Mr. Ollivander was a nice man; Stiles wished he could help. It was the least the guy deserved for putting up with overeager eleven-year-olds at the start of every school year.

“Oh, shame. I could use a Dogwood wand at the moment. Very talented wands with a very strong calling for Transfiguration.”

“Sorry,” Stiles repeated, shrugging his shoulders regretfully.

“It’s fine. It’s fine.” He waved him off before looking at Stiles with big wide eyes. “Your mother possessed a Dogwood wand, too.”

“I know,” Stiles said. 

Mr. Ollivander nodded sadly. “Very kind witch.”

Stiles sighed and peeked into the back. He saw Lydia fumbling through boxes. He winced preemptively when he saw a box rattling before knocking several to the ground. Many of them fell on Lydia, and she groaned as she tried to step out of the way.

“Sorry!” Lydia called out.

Mr. Ollivander couldn’t care less about the mess as he observed a wand shaking and spitting white gold sparks. “I believe that one’s yours, Ms. Martin.”

Lydia looked down and saw the wand. She bent down, and as soon as she picked it up, a rush of magic surged through the shop. Several of the shelves repaired themselves, and many of the wands’ boxes returned to their proper places.

Stiles leaned against the desk and stood breathless in that moment. Orange light shimmered around Lydia, making her unbearably beautiful. She was like a sunset. But in those few seconds, Stiles also noticed the darkish haze at the edges of the light. She was tinged in dread. Certainly there was a level of awe surrounding her, but Stiles did not know whether he was watching her surrounded in wonder or dread. He didn’t know what he was watching, or what it meant. 

Mr. Ollivander didn’t share the same uncertainty. “Well, I’ll be. I’m the luckiest wizard to live.” 

The magic dispersed elegantly. 

Lydia looked up at Mr. Ollivander and said with no small measure of confusion, “I’m sorry.”

He asked to be handed the wand. Lydia did, and he examined it. “Vine with Dragon Heartstring. Very unusual wands. I’ve only seen a vinewood wand react in such a manner at the presence of it’s owner twice in my lifetime--three times, now. A very rare occurrence. It seems you have been destined for this one, Ms. Martin.” 

He handed the wand back to her, and Lydia pocketed it in her robes. “How much?”

Mr. Ollivander simply waved her off. “Free for a sight like that.”

“I can’t—”

“Ms. Martin,” Mr. Ollivander began with a smile. “It’s fine; you’ve nearly repaired my entire shop. Trust me, it will not be a loss.”

“Thank you.” Lydia smiled. 

“You are very welcome my dear.” 

Lydia and Stiles bid the elderly man goodbye, and right when they were about to leave, Mr. Ollivander called out to them once more, “Be safe on your journey, children.” He held eye contact with them a little longer than necessary, making both of them wonder if he knew what they were up to.

“We will, sir,” Stiles decided to say.

The man’s serious face grew into a large smile. “Take care, then.”

Lydia and Stiles finally exited the shop and went back into the streets. “Back home, then?” Stiles asked her.

Lydia nodded. “Yeah, let’s hope the others are okay.” 

They made their way back to the Leaky Cauldron, and this time, they flooed to Stiles’ home.  

 

|~~***~~|

 

Stiles stepped out of the fireplace, noticing gratefully that his clothes had finally dried. He stepped into the living room first and was immediately accosted by Scott and Derek. Scott used his best friend privileges to hug Stiles first. Stiles’ arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders. Looking over Scott’s shoulder, Stiles could see Allison checking over Lydia. 

Stiles yelped as he was suddenly yanked back from Scott’s embrace. He whirled around to see Derek staring at him with concerned intensity. 

“Why do you smell like blood?” Derek demanded.

Stiles looked down at his pant leg. The blood on his jeans had dried a nasty crusty brown. “I got splinched,” Stiles said, looking to Lydia.

Derek was already pushing him toward the couch. He shoved Stiles onto the cushion and rolled up his jeans to examine the wound.

Scott hovered behind Derek, hissing when he saw the nasty scar running up Stiles’ calf. “Guys, you aren’t supposed to use magic to heal yourself from a splinch. There are special potions for that.”

_ “I know,”  _ Lydia seethed. “I wasn’t going to leave us bleeding out in the middle of Diagon Alley.” She looked at the rest of the pack sitting around the living room, eyes widening when she noticed there were some people missing. “Where’s Jackson?”

“We thought he would come with you,” Boyd answered, brows furrowing. 

“Shit,” Lydia cursed. She sat on the couch and rubbed her forearms.

Stiles tried to console her. “Danny is with him and Isaac. They are going to be okay.” He looked at the pack members. While none of them had any visible injuries, all of their clothes were disheveled, and Stiles noticed that Allison was missing all the arrows from her quiver. “What happened?”

“Someone died,” Derek said bluntly. 

“Who?” Stiles immediately questioned.  

“Your Dad won’t tell us,” he replied, sounding annoyed. “He’s really furious right now. He went to the Ministry after he sent all of us back here, then sent Auror Parrish to watch us and make sure we wouldn’t leave again.” Derek pointed with his thumb to the corner of the living room. 

For the first time, Stiles noticed Auror Parrish standing there, leaning against the wall. He was watching all of them dutifully. Stiles made a face. 

He ignored the auror as best he could and looked to Erica and Boyd. “Are your parents okay?” 

“Yeah. We helped them evacuate on time, but just barely,” Erica said, shivering at the memory. “Peter and Lycaon were there tearing every home apart. It was almost as if they were looking for someone, though, cause they didn’t kill any civilians. Aurors came and tried to fight them, and we jumped into help. Scott and Kira appeared a few minutes later and helped too. By the time Allison and Cora got there, we were losing badly. None of us were a match for Lycaon. He was playing with us; the only reason we aren’t dead is because Peter ordered him to not kill us. Blake appeared at that point and said she found “him”...whoever “him” is...then we smelled you approaching, and that was when Peter ordered Lycaon to go after you.”

“Your dad went crazy after that,” Derek continued for her. “He ordered the aurors to go help, but by the time we traced your scent, all we found was a car in the Thames—with none of you in it.”

Cora cut her brother off to remark coldly, “We thought you died.”

Stiles scoffed. “Yeah, well, we almost did.” He rubbed the back of his neck and Derek moved to sit beside him. “We stole a car and Lycaon chased us down the streets. I accidentally ran the car into the river, so Lydia had to apparate us out of there.”

“Wait,” Derek interjected. “You were driving?!”

Stiles eeped under Derek’s intense stare.

He was saved from further interrogation when the fireplace lit. In came Danny, Jackson, and Isaac. Lydia jumped up and embraced Jackson, pulling away only to passionately kiss him. 

Allison went to Isaac and got him settled comfortably on a couch to rest. Danny went on his own and collapsed next to Boyd. 

Lydia and Jackson finally parted, and the first thing Jackson did was shout at Stiles. “You asshole! You almost drowned us!”

Stiles irritation suddenly flared. “Fuck you! I at least I was able to drive the car!”

“You drove the car straight into the river! I wouldn’t call that driving!” 

“Better than a wall!” Stiles shouted back. “Mr. PRNDL!”

Derek growled a warning under his breath. Jackson and Stiles both shrinked and gave up the fight. 

There was a moment of tense silence until Cora scoffed. “Prndl? You mean the gear shift?”

“Shut up,” Jackson hissed.

Cora rolled her eyes. 

Stiles leaned against Derek and listened distractedly as Isaac explained to Allison that Danny flooed them to their summer home in London. He tried to pay attention, but he couldn’t shake the nerves still prickling under his skin. Jackson had every right to yell at him, he had almost killed them because he panicked. 

Derek squeezed his shoulder. Stiles looked over at Derek’s encouraging expression and nodded.  _ Be strong. _ That’s right. He could pretend that. 

As soon as Isaac finished his recounting, Stiles turned awkwardly on the couch to look at Parrish. “What is my dad doing at the Ministry?”

Parrish looked startled to be addressed so suddenly. “I shouldn’t be telling you.”

Stiles blinked. “Uh...you do realize I will find out anyway, right? Let’s just make this easier on everyone.”

Parrish sighed, knowing he was right. “He has to explain to the Minister why there were Hogwarts students at the scene. The Minister is not happy a bunch of kids were firing spells and waving around swords.” He looked pointedly at Kira and Allison. Neither girl look embarrassed. 

“I wasn’t waving my sword,” Kira said seriously. “That’s dangerous.”

Parrish merely sighed again. 

“Hey, Allison,” Lydia spoke up. “That reminds me. Ollivander’s is still taking customers. We should get you a new wand.”

Allison nodded in agreement. Both girls stood up and walked over to the mantle. Parrish pushed off the wall and hurriedly stood in front of them. “You two aren’t going anywhere. Auror Stilinski said all of you were to stay put.” 

Lydia raised a delicate eyebrow and shared an amused glance with Allison. She turned slowly to the pack. “Is this guy serious?”

“Oh yeah,” Jackson and Stiles said in tandem. Both of them knew Auror Parrish well, and the man took his duty very seriously  _ all  _ the time. 

“Right.” Lydia smiled, facing Parrish again. “You’re funny. C’mon, Allison.” Lydia side stepped Parrish and walked inside the fireplace. 

“Wait,” Parrish commanded, putting a hand over the floo powder before Lydia could reach for it. 

Lydia rolled her eyes. “The faster you let us go, the faster we come back, which means you are less likely to be reprimanded by your Head Auror. So…”

“No, Auror Stilinski specifically said—”

“—I really don’t care.” Lydia laughed. Parrish was taken aback as Lydia flicked his hand away to reach for the floo powder. She dropped it to the ground, saying, “Diagon Alley.”

Allison looked apologetically at Parrish but went after Lydia anyway. 

Parrish looked distressed. “Okay, no one else is leaving. I’m closing the floo right now.” 

“If you do that, then they can’t come back. And neither can my Dad,” Stiles reminded the auror. 

Parrish looked conflicted, but he eventually settled on sulking in the corner. 

Derek stood up with a grunt. “We should get cleaned up.” 

Everyone agreed and headed upstairs. 

While the others were milling about in the other rooms for a change of clothes, Stiles went with Derek to his own. As soon as the door closed, Stiles sagged against it. He pulled Derek against him, holding him there like an anchor.

“I froze, Derek,” Stiles suddenly said. 

Derek pressed his forehead against Stiles’ and looked into his eyes searchingly. He pleaded silently for Stiles to continue.

“My mountain ash didn’t do anything. It fell off him like nothing, and now Lycaon knows I’m a Moonwalker. He’s going to actively look for me now, and I don’t have any way to defend myself. Mountain ash is all I have.”

Derek cupped his face. “Like I said, we will think of something.” Derek rubbed his thumb against Stiles’ cheek. “We jumped in today without thinking. If we come up with a plan, we can take him down, _ together _ . We’re a pack, remember that Stiles. We will protect you.”

“But how am I going to protect  _ you _ ?” Stiles’ voice raised an octave.

Derek’s hand wrapped around the back of Stiles’ neck and guided his head to rest on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about me; I’m the Alpha.”

That didn’t sound nearly as comforting to Stiles as Derek wanted it to be. He knew Derek was a capable Alpha, but from what Erica had told them, they weren’t able to fight Lycaon even with the pack  _ and _ trained aurors at their disposal. This entire battle was beyond their comprehension and strengths. 

Regardless, his hands came to Derek’s waist and he took deep breaths to calm himself, trying to ignore the negative thoughts racing through his head.  _ He was going to die _ —no.  _ Be strong. Be strong.  _ He pushed gently away from Derek and walked to his bathroom, deciding he needed to wash away the layers of dirt from the day. Derek followed him.

They both shed their clothes and entered the shower. Stiles leaned against Derek to put weight off his splinched leg and let the warm water strip away sweat and the river’s grime.

Stiles wanted to stay right there, but his body picked up on the pack members returning to the living room. He sighed and finally began to clean himself properly.

Fifteen minutes later, Stiles and Derek returned to the living room. He paused at the doorway when he saw not only the entire pack, but his father, Scott’s mother, Auror Parrish, Chris Argent, and Noshiko Yukimura. 

“What’s going on?” Stiles questioned hesitantly. 

His father glared at him. “Sit,” He ordered.

Stiles nodded obediently, not wanting to test his father’s patience. He sat with Derek in between Scott and Jackson. His father walked directly in front of him. 

“You and your pack are not getting involved,” His father said sternly. 

“Excuse me?” Stiles automatically snapped. 

“You heard me. You are not getting involved--any of you.” He turned his harsh eyes to the rest of the pack. The pack sunk into the furniture and tried to avoid his gaze. “Do you understand the lives you put in danger by being there? Not only yourselves, but everyone around you! The muggle officers trying to evacuate everyone, the aurors trying to create a safe space to fight Lycaon, the muggles in the city. You endangered everyone’s lives because you do not know the protocols to handle a situation like this.”

Stiles tried to bring in some humor to lighten the situation. “There’s a protocol on how to handle an evil spirit brought back to life?”

_ “Stiles.” _

When Stiles realized his father wasn’t going to be swayed, Stiles stood from his seat and met his father eye to eye. “No! You do realize out of all your trained aurors, we have been in the front lines of this entire mess more than any of you. We deserve to help stop Lycaon as much as anyone.”

“You have put yourself in the front lines because you didn’t listen. Several of you nearly died today because of it!” He looked pointedly at Derek. Stiles looked at Derek in shock. Derek gave him a significant look, and Stiles knew he would tell him privately. He faced his father again when the man raised his voice. “You almost died today!” 

“He’s right,” Lydia spoke up. Stiles snapped his head to her and looked at her with disbelief. Lydia sat up straighter. “ _ What? _ You froze up back there, if it wasn’t for Danny or me apparating out of there we would have died in that river. And need I remind you how dangerous apparating without a proper wand is? We got  _ splinched _ , Stiles!” 

At the mention of that, Melissa’s eyes widened. Stiles could see she wanted to go into Healer mode and examine their wounds. 

“So what, you don’t want to help now?” Stiles snapped rudely. He was deeply upset; she had brought up his mistake in front of everyone—even his Dad. She was undermining his entire argument and making him appear like a child. 

“That’s not what I’m saying, and you of all people should know how I feel about being left on the sidelines when I can feel everything that’s about to goddamn happen,” she hissed. Jackson let go of Lydia’s arm, giving her silent permission to attack Stiles if she pleased. 

Chris Argent’s eyes narrowed, and he looked at Lydia pointendly. “And what exactly are you sensing that’s going to happen?” 

Lydia took a breath. “I can’t sense any one person in particular about to die. I’ve had this lump in my throat since Lycaon rose. I’m not sure what that means yet; it could be that several people are going to die, or it could be that everything is still left undecided. However, based on prior experiences, I can only infer that it's the former. If anyone is going to die because I made this—” She scrunched her eyes shut and then opened them again, moving on from that train of thought. “I want to help. It’s as simple as that. I know all of you have said it's useless once I sense someone about to die, but that doesn’t mean I want to sit around doing nothing.” She glared at Stiles’ father without any fear. “I can feel it happen, you know--the life snuffing out of their bodies. If you don’t allow me to help, you are the cruelest man I have ever met, Mr. Stilinski.” Her gaze neutralized as she looked back to Stiles. “Still, I see your dad’s point. We acted in conflict with the aurors and endangered people’s lives. If, perhaps, we worked with their protocol, it would be safer for everyone.” 

“And that protocol involves you staying out of the aurors’ way and returning to school once the term resumes.” His father said pointedly, ignoring Lydia’s requests. 

“Why can’t you just let us help?” Stiles pleaded. “We will follow the rules.”

The pack held in the urge to snort. His father sighed. “We all know you won’t.” 

“John is right,” Melissa said. “Scott, I don’t want you getting in this mess.”

“Mom,” Scott said disbelievingly.

Melissa suddenly raised her voice. “No, Scott! I have allowed you to work behind the aurors’ backs several times before, but not this time. This is beyond each and every one of you.”

Scott didn’t have the same will to fight against his mother as Stiles did against his father. 

“Dad!” Stiles shouted, still trying to make him see reason. “We need to help. All of us know you need werewolves on your side to beat this, and you need me!” 

“But your magic didn’t do anything, Stiles.” Danny said bluntly. “You threw mountain ash, right? Nothing happened.”

“Nothing?” His father looked startled. 

“I just didn’t do it right!” Stiles tried to lie. “I’ve been training with Yukimura. Tell him! I’ve gotten better in control of my powers!”

Yukimura couldn’t deny that fact. “He’s right, John—”

“No,” Danny interrupted. “I saw what happened. He threw mountain ash at Lycaon. It did nothing to him. I agree with your Dad, Stiles. I’m not getting involved.”

“What?” Jackson shouted, taken back by his friend’s stance. 

“Hey, don’t look at me like that. We both know I’m not part of this pack. I’ll help when you guys need it, but getting this involved is asking too much. Well all nearly died back there. I’m out.”

“Good, I’m glad I’m able to make sense with at least one of you,” Stiles’ father stated. “But all of you need to do the same, your first duty is with school—”

“I’m sorry, John,” Noshiko interrupted. She stood regally and folded her hands behind her back. “But I am going to disagree with you. You do not have the authority to decide what duty my daughter shall take. I brought her here with the possibility this might occur. Kira will follow her path as a kitsune and stop Lycaon.” 

“You can’t place your daughter in such a situation,” he said, very much appalled. 

“I can, and I will. I have faith in her.” She looked down at Kira and gave her a soft smile. “She was trained by me, after all. I’m sure her friends have already seen the effect of her fox fire. With the right cultivation and training, it should be sufficient to restore Lycaon’s spirit and return it to the spirit world.”  

John stared at her. “You’re crazy. She’s a child. She doesn’t—”

“You are not her father, John!” Yukimura said sternly.

“No, I’m the reasonable adult here,” John said firmly. “Melissa, help me talk some sense into her!”

“Stop!” Kira shouted suddenly. “I will decide.” She drew her brows together and directed her gaze to the floor. After a moment, she looked at Stiles’ father. “I will help--but only because they are my friends,” then at her mother, “not because it is my  _ duty _ .” 

“Same,” Allison spoke, looking at her father.

Chris Argent nodded with a satisfied grin. “You know I’ve supported your beliefs since you were a child. You handled yourself well back there; the aurors informed me you saved two aurors alone and that was without any magic. I can trust you will do fine if you choose to involve yourself in this battle.” 

Stiles’ father shot a glare at Chris Argent. “You may condone your children becoming involved in this case, but the law states—”

“They are overage, John,” Argent reminded him. 

“Well, they can be arrested for interfering with an ongoing investigation, then.” 

“Then I guess we will have to find a way to help without your knowledge,” Derek spoke, meeting the auror’s eyes. John looked at Derek like he had been betrayed. “My pack will continue to find a way to stop Lycaon.”

Stiles’ father faced Stiles, with panic. He felt as if everything was slipping between his fingers, and he fought to control at least his own son. “You are not getting involved. You are underage.”

_ “Dad!”  _ Stiles protested.

“And neither are you!” John told Jackson. “You live under my roof, you follow my rules.” 

“Stiles, you need to listen to your father,” Derek said.

Stiles was about to retort, but when he looked at Derek, he understood his intention. They needed to convince his father that  _ Stiles _ wouldn’t get involved. “Fine,” he conceded. He sat beside Derek and made a show of glaring at him. 

“I’m sorry, sir, but it seems I have overstayed my welcome,” Derek said with authority. “My pack and I will be out of your way for the remainder of the break. Thank you for having us.” He turned to the pack. “Everyone, pack your things. Stiles, Jackson: go to your rooms.”

The pack did not fight against the orders of their Alpha. They silently all went upstairs to follow his orders. John glared at Derek. “Son, do not do this. You do not know what you are getting into.”

Derek blinked, and his eyes glowed red as he stood. Auror Parrish raised his wand at Derek, but John told him to lower it. Derek spoke firmly. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think  _ you _ know. My pack and I are responsible for this mess, and we have come to the agreement that we will fix it. We will not get in your way, I promise you that. Again, thank you for allowing us stay in your home, but it seems my decision has created an awkward rift between us. It is probably best if we take our leave.” 

Melissa marched right up to Derek and pointed a daring finger in his face. “Don’t you  _ dare _ take Scott away from me. I entrusted you to keep him safe.”

Derek shifted his eyes back to their normal color. “I will not force him to follow me if he does not wish to, just as I will not force Danny to join our cause. But Scott is of age; he can make his own decisions.”

“How can I be sure you aren’t ordering him?” Melissa asked, voice cracking.

“Because I am not his maker,” Derek replied simply.

Melissa’s jaw tightened, and in defiance, she marched up the stairs to go talk to Scott. 

John looked coldly at Derek. “I know what you’re doing,” John said. “You think I believe you are still not going to drag Stiles into this? You are the one who dragged him into this entire mess in the first place. You are the one who activated his magic; you got him involved in  _ your  _ world.”

Derek blinked rapidly to hide the hurt he suddenly felt. He knew that; he believed it to his very core. He had brought Stiles into this entire mess, just like he did with the rest of his pack members. He had condemned his pack to a life of danger.

He could hear a rational voice speaking in his head, reminding him that not everything was his fault. His mind’s voice of reason sounded suspiciously like Stiles; it calmed him enough to look John in the eye as he spoke. “No. I believe that your wife was the one who brought your son into ‘ _ my  _ world.’”

John sucked in a breath. The man had no retort. 

“Derek,” Chris Argent said when John balled up his fists. “If you need any assistance, you can always contact me.”

“Thank you, Mr. Argent.” He awkwardly met John’s eye once more before his pack returned. He saw Cora floating his suitcase behind her. 

Melissa was pleading with Scott, but Scott was holding his head up high, and he kept repeating, “No, mom. I have to.” 

Derek’s eyes searched for Stiles, but he wasn’t there. Derek nodded, took a breath and created a metaphorical forest between him and John. “Goodbye, Mr. Stilinski.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop! Whoop! This has been an amazing year for me. I just found out today I got accepted into my teaching credential program, I'm graduating college next month (will update more regularly after May), I just got a promotion at work, and I'm genuinely happy with this chapter. Tell me what you think and try to catch the reference in here to a random show! 
> 
> Tell me what you think of this chapter! Sorry for the cliffy.
> 
> For you tumblr people [sullenalpha](http://sullenalpha.tumblr.com/) has opened up an RPG blog based off my story, and they are currently accepting applications to join. You should check out the link to the [RPG page](http://sullenalpha.tumblr.com/post/140470807847/wizards-and-wolves-a-harry-potterteen-wolf)
> 
> As always, thanks to my lovely beta [stucky-is-unbroken](http://stucky-is-unbroken.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Follow me at [twinklingpaopufruit](http://twinklingpaopufruit.tumblr.com/) for updates on my story, if you have any questions, or just want to talk.


	59. Polyjuice and Chess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pack tries to figure out Peter's next move.

Derek’s bare feet pressed against the creaky wooden staircase. He descended them slower than usual to avoid waking the others. 

He glanced toward the living room and spotted Scott nearly toppling off the couch in his slumber. In different circumstances, he would have snorted at the sight. Instead, he quietly maneuvered around the living room furniture to the kitchen. The lack of plates in the kitchen sink told him that Laura had not arrived home. In the commotion of Lycaon’s rising, he had nearly forgotten about his older sister. If he recalled, she had been in the Ministry the day Lycaon rose. Knowing his sister, she was fine and most likely dealing with political bureaucracy. So he tried not to worry. 

He sighed deeply as he looked out the kitchen window. A sheen of light was peeking over the horizon. It was way too early to be awake. He silently cursed the hour. He dragged himself to the coffee machine to prepare a brew. 

It was going to be a long day—he could feel it. 

Once the machine started, he closed his eyes and begged for his thoughts to shut up. The sounds of Lycaon’s roar, John Stilinski’s and his own desperate screams as they searched for Stiles, and the image of a beat up Jeep in the river, kept replaying. He had almost lost Stiles just a few short hours ago. Stiles had almost lost him as well. Lycaon had nearly killed him and if it wasn’t for Kira’s and Scott’s good timing, the entire pack would have lost their Alpha.  

His eyes snapped open as the coffee machine dinged behind him. He summoned a cup and frowned at what his magic had chosen. It was an old black mug that was chipped along the rim and handle. Too lazy to summon another, he poured himself the coffee. He stepped out of the kitchen with his steaming cup and glanced toward the living room once more. Scott had rolled himself over and was now squished uncomfortably against the cushion. He stared at him for a moment before deciding to head outside.

He cracked open the french window enough to slip through. There was a light drizzle outside, barely noticeable unless one was actively paying attention. 

His feet squished against the damp grass as he made his way over to the table at the corner of the garden. He sat down and glanced up at the sky. 

Fresh air allowed his thoughts to narrow to one single thought—He was so goddamn tired.   

His attention averted itself to the house when he heard the fireplace. He smelled Laura. The tension in his shoulders immediately eased. He looked over his shoulder as he saw Laura approaching him. She blinked as a stray water droplet landed on her lashes.

“Is there a reason why Scott is sleeping in our living room?”

“We ran out of beds.” Derek answered. 

Laura sniffed the air as she sat down. He watched her face with fascination as she sensed each individual member of their pack. 

“Did you hear about Lycaon?” Derek asked, almost as if he was asking about the weather. 

“If I hadn’t, I would have been here sleeping.” She said bitterly, “Thank you for worrying about me by the way.” She reached over and snatched the coffee cup out of his hands. He let her do so and watched her chug the hot coffee in one go. 

“Sorry,” Derek said when she was finished. “I was busy fighting Lycaon.” He said blandly. 

Laura gave him a blank look, “Of course you were. I should have known” 

“Were you there when the Ministry got raided?”

“Yup.” She set the coffee cup down and placed her hands in between her crossed legs. Derek examined her state and noticed she hadn’t gotten much sleep in the past few days. “The raid was actually less worse than what happened after. After the aurors told us we were safe to return to the Ministry, the Wizengamot held an emergency meeting. And let me tell you, locked in a room for over 12 hours with werewolf hating wizards is worse than any werewolf attack.”

“What was the meeting about?”

“What was to be done about the Lycaon situation. The people in command weren’t acting very rational with their decision making though. They wanted to enforce these cruel laws against werewolves and...when I first heard them I wanted to wolf out and attack all of them or at least protest. But I kept my mouth shut, until I saw some on the Wizengamot defending the werewolves’ rights. We debated for hours and the arguments made against werewolves were ridiculous.”

“What laws did they want?”

“Cruel things, Derek.” She sucked in a breath. “We were outnumbered. The ordinances passed.” 

Derek met his sister’s eyes. 

The tension returned in his shoulders. “We’ll figure it out. Don’t worry,” Derek said. 

Laura’s eyes scrunched as she took in her own brother’s distressed state. She leaned over the table. “Derek, what happened to you these last few days?”

He wanted to pour everything out to Laura like he usually did. He desperately wanted her comfort, but for some reason he couldn’t find it in him to tell her. If he told Stiles he needed to be strong, he couldn’t be hypocritical. So with a straight face he said, “A lot. We saw Lycaon rise, we tried to stop him, failed, tried to stop him in Brixton, failed, and I’m no longer welcomed in the Stilinski household.” 

“Is the Head Auror against us?”

“No. He’s just upset we plan to get further involved.”

“Why are you?”

“Because it was my pack’s fault this happened...and you know mom would have taken this same decision.”

“Yeah.” She glanced to the house. “The others are awake. We should head inside, the Wizengamot was going to release their new ordinances to the public in a few minutes.”

Derek nodded and trailed a few minutes after his sister, leaving the empty chipped coffee cup abandoned on the table. 

Derek barely greeted his pack as they crowded around the wireless Laura was adjusting. Derek remained standing, glancing tiredly at the fireplace. 

He heard static and then a clear female voice that sounded much too fruity for the occasion. “Good Morning Wizards and Witches, this is Jennifer Walpole Head of the Beast Division in the Ministry of Magic speaking. I am sure you have read in the Daily Prophet that our safety and our very way of life came under attack in a series of deliberate and deadly terrorist attacks. Our victims were businessmen, secretaries, federal employees, moms and dads, friends, and neighbors. Hundreds of lives were under injury or risk by evil. By despicable acts of terror. The pictures you have seen in the papers of the mass destruction has filled us with disbelief, terrible sadness, and a quiet unyielding anger. These acts of terror were created to destroy the sanctity of the wizard race into retreat but they have failed. Our nation of wizards is strong and will not collapse against werewolf tyranny. We must take precaution to protect our homes from these acts. Therefore, the Wizengamot has issued a series of ordinances for werewolves across the country. The ordinances are as follows:

Werewolf Ordinance 01:All werewolves must register with the Ministry. Werewolves who fail to register with the Ministry, will be regarded as terrorists against the Ministry of Magic. Any werewolf found without any registration will be immediately be sentenced to Azkaban.

Werewolf Ordinance 02: All registered werewolves will receive an armband with a insignia of the moon’s shifts, an identification number, and identification card. All registered werewolves will be required to visibly wear their armband at all times, and wear their identification cards clearly around their necks. Registered werewolves who fail to abide by these rules will be issued a fine of 30 galleons.

Werewolf Ordinance 03: All werewolves must report back to their homes by 5p.m. Werewolves must follow the curfew from 5 p.m. to 9 a.m. Werewolves in need of traveling past curfew time, must receive a Movement and Curfew Pass issued under the authority of the Beast Division of the Ministry. To obtain a Movement and Curfew Pass, werewolves will need to obtain their identity card, their identification number, a verified stamp, and signature as issued by Werewolf Ordinance 01. Any werewolf breaking curfew will be brought to proper for authorities for questioning.

Werewolf Ordinance 04: All registered werewolves are to report to the Ministry of Magic 24 hours before a full moon. All registered werewolves will be detained for their safety and the safety of wizards. After 24 hours of the full moon, all werewolves are free to return home until the next full moon.

We kindly ask for all werewolf compliance and urge our fellow wizards to immediately report anyone they suspect of not following any of these ordinances. Thank you for your time. Again, this is Jennifer Walpole speaking; have a good day!”  

Laura immediately shut off the wireless.

The room was filled with quiet tension for a few moments. Erica broke it first. “They can’t do that!” 

“Yes they can.” Laura sighed. She sagged against the couch. “It’s considered a national emergency and the Ministry has every law on their side to take away people’s rights under these circumstances. There are no loopholes, believe me I spent my last twelve hours trying to find one.”

“So I was right?” Boyd questioned, glancing once at Derek’s quietness. “The wizarding  _ would _ blame an entire community.”

“They aren’t blaming though,” Kira refuted softly.

“The implication of blame is there.” Boyd snorted. “They’re scared and instead of going to the root of the problem they are going to marginalize even further our kind. It’s stupid. Not every werewolf is going to turn themselves in willingly and a result there’s going to be riots, which means more violence.”

“Perhaps not,” Scott spoke next. “A lot of werewolves are going to be scared at getting caught and to avoid having the government against them they would rather have the people.” 

There was a moment of silence at Scott’s words, until Isaac asked the question all the werewolves had been thinking, “Are we registering?” 

Derek finally faced the rest of his pack. He squared his shoulders and with confidence he said sternly, “no.” He looked at each pack member. “No one suspects us. The people who do know would not turn us in.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that...I mean, Stiles’ Dad.” Lydia began.

“No,” He cut her off. “He wouldn’t. We aren’t going to give in. We will continue working to stop Lycaon whatever means necessary. Is that understood?”

The pack gave a quiet unison, “yes.” 

 

|~~***~~|

 

Stiles was much too peeved to concentrate on the game laid out in front of him. He had thrown a pillow at the wireless after Walpole had given her commentary and now the wireless was lying in pieces on the floor.

Jackson had made no comment about the ordinances nor about the broken wireless. Instead, he pretended to be engrossed in his game of wizard’s chess with Stiles. It was their second game of the morning and Stiles was already bored. He needed to be out there helping. He  _ needed _ to fix his mistake. 

He prayed for some sort of distraction and his prayer was answered as his father and Auror Parrish flooed into the living room. 

His father wasted no time as he marched to his son. “We need your help.” 

Stiles felt his ribs turn inward at his hitch of disbelief. His entire face scrunched as he looked down at the chessboard. His queen was surrounded by Jackson’s bishop and knight. He didn’t want to look away from the game and meet with his father’s hypocritical stare. He held in a scream and instead moved his rook into position, hoping Jackson hadn’t realized he was close to winning. 

Jackson for once in his life, kept his goddamn mouth shut and continued playing. 

“Stiles, son, we need your help, please.” His father pleaded.

Stiles leaned back as Jackson called check. 

He licked his lips and willed his body to look up. His father wore a pleading face. “I thought you didn’t want me to get involved.” Stiles spat. He refused to call another move for his chess pieces, knowing that his next one would lead to his defeat no matter what choice he made. 

“I don’t.” His father spoke clearly. 

Stiles finally gave his father his full attention. “Then what do you need of me?”

“We need your Moonwalker abilities to track down Lycaon.”

“Is your auror team that bad you can’t find one werewolf that leaves destruction wherever he goes?”

“Peter and the others are keeping low. In one sense that’s a good thing, but it also means they are planning an even bigger attack. We need to stop them before they make another move.”

“And?”

“Your powers can find him, right? You can always sense when your pack is at all times. Or is that just a pack thing?”

Stiles sighed. “No it’s a Moonwalker thing, but I can’t—” Stiles paused briefly as he saw that he could sacrifice the king to save his queen. “I mean, I’ve never tried to sense a werewolf past a certain distance.”

“Can you try now?” 

Stiles had never tested how far his powers extended because he didn’t have to because he could just feel them. Still, what his father was asking him implanted a way to get out of the house. 

“I guess.” Stiles voiced. He gave Jackson a look when Jackson narrowed his eyes at him. 

Stiles stood up and made a show of flashing his Moonwalker eyes. He waited for a minute before replying. “Lycaon is somewhere in France. My powers don’t allow me to sense the exact location over such a large distance but I can sense he’s somewhere over the English Channel.” 

“Why would he go to France?” Parrish asked quickly. 

Stiles answered, “because that’s where the Argents live.” His father and Parrish gave him a questioning look so he continued. “Gerard and Kate might be in Azkaban but the source of all of Peter’s problems start with the Argents. He probably wants to wipe them all out.” Stiles blinked several times through his lie and he hoped his father didn’t notice.

“That’s right,” His Dad said. “We have to think like Peter. Parrish send for a letter to the French Republic of Magic to round up their aurors.”

“Yes, sir.” Parrish left via floo.

Stiles watched the flames burn out before turning to his father. Stiles stared at his father curiously. The man was shuffling awkwardly from foot to foot, appearing more like a young boy than the Head Auror of the British Wizarding World. His father found his ground and sincerely apologized to his son. 

“I know it bothers you being kept in here. But I just want you safe, Stiles. You have to understand you are all I have.” He glanced at Jackson, pleading him silently to leave so he could have a moment with his son. Jackson acknowledged John’s wishes, but he remained seated. John heaved a sigh. “I know your powers probably make you our best defense against Lycaon, but I would rather have you helping away from the battle. I can’t protect you if you go out on your own. You are untrained in combat, unaware of the dangers you can encounter in the midst of battle.” 

Stiles understood his father’s decision in wanting to keep him safe. However, his father couldn’t have been more wrong. Did his father honestly believe he would go out alone? He would never do something so reckless, especially with the prophecy hanging over his head. He suddenly realized his father saw him not as a nearing young-adult, but that same nine year old boy who had recently lost his mother. 

Stiles was no longer that lost lonely boy who would recklessly jump into mischief. He had battled Alphas, dementors, banshees, hunters, and so much more. Stiles would bet he had more experience in the battlefield than any trainee auror. 

More importantly, he was aware of the danger. Each time, his friends and him got roped into some fight all he could think about was the safety of his friend’s and he would move accordingly to keep them safe. 

His father knew all this. He had explained it to him the summer before his fifth year. His father listened to every story Stiles’ had to tell. 

And all of Stiles’ achievements—and failures, became marginalized in his father’s perception of his son. And that was it. No matter what Stiles’ would say to convince his father, it would not work. Everything came down to one fact: Stiles was Jan Stilinski’s son.  

He heard Jackson cough and became aware he had zoned out in his father’s long apology. 

He cut his father off, “I agree.”

His father reeled back in shock. 

Stiles looked at the board then again at his father. “I want to help and if this is the only way you will let me, then fine. I think if I keep concentrating, I can probably find a more exact location like a village or something.”

“You shouldn’t push your magic.” And that was Jackson in a rare moment voicing his concern and protest. Stiles understood Jackson’s worry, his fellow Slytherin had been witness to a few of his magic breakdowns. 

“It’s not.” Stiles assured Jackson and his father, “I have good control now. If you keep the floo open, I can floo to the Ministry and tell your secretary, Frances to send you a message when I find something.”

_ “Stiles—”  _ His father chastised. 

“—I promise I won’t go anywhere other than the Ministry.”

His dad bit his lip. Merlin, he hoped that was convincing because even Stiles heard his voice crack with the lie. 

“Promise me—” His father fumbled in his words for a moment, but used to moments of quick thinking, sternly voiced, “No. Promise on your mother, you won’t go anywhere else.”

“I promise.” Stiles assured, his voice coming out more monotone than he expected. 

His father nodded and tapped his wand against the mantle releasing the spell he had cast to avoid anyone underage from using it. “I hope you give us more news.” He hovered awkwardly next to the fireplace. 

Stiles wondered what his father had left to say. 

“You can sacrifice your king to save your queen,” John said, pointing to the chessboard. 

Startled for a second, Stiles took a moment to put together what his father was talking about. He glanced at the board, catching that play a few minutes prior. He could take it but— “It’s ok, I’ll let the queen die to start all over.”

“Alright,” John said awkwardly, “Take care both of you.” 

The rush of flames felt overly loud in the living room. 

“That was a low blow, Stiles.” Jackson said immediately upon his father’s leave. “Lying when it comes to your mother, I didn’t know you had it in you.” 

“She’s dead. There’s no point in making promises like that.” Stiles said sadly, “Plus, all of this bullshit could have been avoided if all the adults in our lives stopped keeping us out of things and keeping secrets.” He took a pause. “Especially my mother.”

He stood up and grabbed his wand. “Grab what you need, we are going to Derek’s.”

“Why?”

“Cause I know where Lycaon and Peter really are.” 

 

|~~***~~|

 

“So wait Lycaon is in France?” Allison asked again. 

“No! Haven’t you been listening?!” Stiles arms flailed. Those around him instinctively shifted away from him. “I lied to my Dad. Lycaon is going to Azkaban, because Peter wants to kill Gerard and Kate. Peter hasn’t been thinking straight so he wouldn’t plan to go all the way to France. He wants immediate justice!”

The pack scattered around the Hale living room thought over Stiles’ words. The general consensus agreed with him. Still, Lydia always had to offer a counterargument to everything. “Are you sure? Why waste his time in Brixton then?” 

“Cause he needed someone with the location to Azkaban,” Laura said in realization. She paced around the living room, deep in thought. “We were talking about it in the Ministry. Yorick Sterne was the man who died yesterday, he’s Head of Security for Azkaban. And he was the one who designed the spellwork for the movement of the island.”

Scott looked confused as he looked up at her. “The island moves?” 

Laura nodded. “After Deucalion and them escaped, the Ministry found it necessary to enforce a much stronger security system. They cast spells so the island moves and no one knows the pattern, but if Sterne was the one who designed it, he should know where Azkaban should be at any given time.”

“You think Peter looked for him to find this information?” Derek asked his sister. 

“Yes. Sterne is young, he wouldn’t have been involved with our family. I don’t see any other reason why Peter would target him.” 

“So then what?” Cora scoffed. She leaned lazily back against the couch. “We are going to stop Peter from killing Gerard and Kate? That doesn’t seem so bad if he’s ridding the world of those no-good-for-nothing Argents.” She peeked over her shoulder toward Allison, who was standing behind her. “No offense.”

“None taken.” Allison shrugged, “And I think I kind of agree.” 

Stiles shifted in the middle of the couch to look at everyone. “Well that wouldn’t be the main goal. It would be to stop Lycaon.”

“And how are we going to do that?” Jackson commented, folding his arms over his chest. He was standing presumptuously by the staircase. 

Stiles licked his lips and his right leg began to shake rhythmically. He said with feigned confidence, “You will have me there.”

“Stiles,” Derek reprimanded, sitting on the couch opposite of him. 

Stiles met his concerned look. Derek had told him to be strong, not stupid. But Stiles’ didn’t think this was. Despite a solid plan, stopping the others when they least expected was the best course of action. They could have the element of surprise on their side if they played everything correctly. 

“No. I’m more in my right mind now,” Stiles said to soothe Derek’s fear. “I won’t let him scare me—not anymore. I can take him,  _ you have to trust me _ .”

Derek seemed reluctant, but Stiles knew he could count on him. He knew Derek would follow him. 

Scott observed Stiles’ beside him. He could hear the rapid heartbeat and smell the stench of anxiety curling around him like smoke. Those emotions and reactions often lingered around Stiles to the point that Scott no longer became alarmed when he would sense them. Albeit, there was something different bubbling in Stiles. It was the smell of old leather and broom polish. It took him a while for his werewolf mind to associate it with bravery. 

With that in mind, Scott decided to trust his instincts. “How are we getting there then?” He questioned his best friend, showing his support. 

“My Dad can get the location.” Stiles sent a thankful look at Scott before looking back at Derek. “He’s required to know and so is his squadron.”

Jackson rolled his eyes. “How are you going to get your Dad to tell you the location?”

Stiles smiled awkwardly at the whole pack, “Uh...I didn’t think that far.”

Most of the pack was onboard, so they all mulled it over on how they would acquire such confidential information. 

“Oh!” Allison announced after a moment, “Polyjuice Potion. You can pretend you’re your Dad.”

Before Stiles could congratulate Allison on her brilliance, Lydia groaned loudly. “Yeah what a great idea! But how are we getting it? I can’t make Polyjuice Potion in a day; it takes nearly a month to brew.” 

“We can buy it.” Jackson suggested as it was obvious. 

Everyone slowly turned to Jackson in disbelief. Kira voiced everyone's thoughts, “No one sells Polyjuice, that’s illegal even in my own home country.” 

Jackson scoffed. “Not if you know where to look. There’s a shop in Knockturn Alley called Borgin and Burkes. They are known to sell illegal cursed objects and they run an illegal apothecary in the basement.”

Cora looked at Jackson with suspicion. “If this is known, why hasn’t it been raided by the aurors yet?” 

“According to my uncle, Borgin is a good snitch. Aurors don’t mind paying him off if it means solving a case. So often, they turn a blind eye to his antics.”

“Great, so let’s go!” Stiles cheered, standing up. “Jackson you know the place so you can get it—”

“—No. He would know something is up if he sees an ex-pureblood walking into his shop. It has to be someone unknown.” 

Erica stood from the couch next. “I’ll go.” She volunteered herself. “I’m muggleborn so he won’t have anything to attach my face to.”

Derek nodded slowly. He looked up at Erica, “If we do this. We need to take precaution. Boyd you should go with her to enter the shop and Kira should be there for standby incase anything goes wrong.” 

Boyd and Kira consented to their Alpha’s suggestion.

Lydia huffed out a long breath, “Ok we are doing this then.” She pulled out her wand and cast a summoning charm. Her purse flew into her hands. “Jackson, how much will it cost?” She asked her boyfriend. 

“To get into the shop and convince Borgin you know of his apothecary I would say three galleons. To purchase enough polyjuice potion…”

Laura looked at the young adults with dismay. She tuned out Jackson’s instruction on how to haggle and instead looked at her younger brother. 

He seemed to understand because he walked with heavy steps into the kitchen. Cora followed the pair.

“What’s wrong?” Cora asked, wasting no time.

Laura looked between her siblings. She leaned her elbows against the kitchen island and gnawed her lip. “I won’t be joining you,” She said decisively. 

Cora placed her hands on the table. “Why?” Her voice rose with fear.

Laura licked her lips and looked over her shoulder to the pack. All of them were too engrossed in their preparations and deciding whether they should impersonate another person. She sucked in her breath and whispered, “We both know you won’t stop Lycaon at Azkaban. All of you are entering without a plan. And how can all of you be so sure he is going to Azkaban today?”

“Because Stiles thinks so,” Derek replied obviously.

Laura was taken back. “You are going to place your trust in him that greatly? Derek, he’s not equipped to handle this.”

“He is. And while it may not seem so, Stiles can manage it; we know for certain he will be the one to kill Lycaon.” 

“Why?” She spat in disbelief.

“Because of the goddamn prophecy.” Cora groaned. 

“Prophecy? What prophecy?”

“Nothing,” Derek interrupted, before she could question any longer. “Stiles and the rest of us can do this. As a pack we are stronger, so come with us.”

“No.” Laura shook her head decisively. “It’s not that I don’t want to put myself at risk or don’t think any of you are strong enough, it’s just...I believe if we center all our resources in one fight we will be done for. We need someone outside the system making sure that when you get caught for breaking into Azkaban there will be pack members out there who can continue the fight.” 

“Or,” Derek began, getting an idea. “We have you fighting for us on the Wizengamot, while we take the physical battle.” 

“I don’t like that plan. I don’t like the Azkaban plan in general. We should wait it out and—”

“—And this is why you are not the Alpha,” Derek said sternly. Cora and Laura gave him wide looks. “You always wanted to wait things out or not get involved and it cost you weeks in a coma. We are fighting and if things fail we will adapt to the situation, that’s what the Hale pack has done for centuries.” 

Laura internally groaned. She hated to admit, but her brother was right. “Why are you such an Alpha,” was her only retort to her brother’s statement. She stood straight and glanced back at the pack. “Fine. But I’m still not going.”

“That seems fair.” 

“Just don’t come back dead.” 

Cora snorted, “Great motivational pep talk sis.” 

Laura forced out a breath of laughter before turning to the living room again as she saw Stiles approach. “The others are about to go and I need to go back home to collect a few hairs.” Stiles informed them.

Laura watched Derek carry the weight of the entire pack in that single nod. 

 

|~~***~~|

 

Erica and Boyd kept their hoods drawn close to their face as they walked around Knockturn Alley. They expected to be accosted upon arriving, but no one gave them a second look. Several other wizards sulked around the area in the same suspicious manner.  

Nervousness bubbled under Erica’s ribcage as they neared the shop. She saw the sign for Borgin and Burkes hanging neatly over the shop’s darkened windows. What was once looked to be a bright yellow was now a sickly pale mustard hue painted on the walls. 

Erica subtly glanced around and ascended the three stairs leading up to the shop.

Her hand paused on the doorknob and she considered backing out, but she felt Boy’s heavy hand fall on her shoulder. It gave her an extra breath.

She pushed the door open. The usual bell above their heads rang. Erica scanned the room quickly but found no one in the shop. Her eyes drew instead to the merchandise flooding the  main floor of the shop. She saw a glass case nearby that held a withered hand on a cushion, a bloodstained pack of cards, and a staring glass eye. Evil-looking masks stared down from the walls, an assortment of human bones lay upon the counter, and rusty, spiked instruments hung from the ceiling. 

Erica spotted near the cashier’s office a small assortment of seeds in a jar. Her feet had a mind of their own as she neared them. 

Boyd seemed to have read her mind and grasped her hand. “No.” He gently placed her hand back on her thigh.

Erica held in a whine. “But they are Devil Snare seeds. Do you know how rare these are?” 

“Good eye there young lady.” Came a sudden voice. They saw an old man with greasy hair emerge from the back of the shop. Erica was startled that she hadn’t sensed him earlier. She knew their must have been some spellwork down to the shop, but she wondered if that was before or after the werewolf raid in Diagon Alley. “Most can’t tell the difference between Devil Snare seeds and Angel Trumpet ones.” 

“The spikes curve in Angel Trumpet seeds,” Erica spoke, fighting the need to flash her eyes in warning as the man approached. 

“Yes they do,” The man smiled once he reached the counter. Up close, he didn’t look nearly as intimidating. “How can I be of service? Selling? Buying?” His voice rose an octave as he glanced at the seeds and back at Erica.

“No,” Boyd said firmly. “We are here to see the cauldron that never simmers.” Boyd said, remembering the passcode Jackson had given them. 

Borgin began to laugh. His sickly spotted hand pressed against his chest. “Oh the aurors need to keep up with our change of passwords. Are you two trainees? Most likely judging by your ages. They seem to be getting younger every year.” He grabbed the jar of seeds and placed them under his counter. “I’m sorry but I can’t let two young trainees enter. It would be bad for business.” 

Erica snuck a glance at Boyd. He nodded once. “We will give you three galleons,” She bargained. 

“Oh wow,” The old man leaned against the counter and leered at both of them.  “The person you received information from is really backtracked. Our prices have risen to five galleons if you want to browse around.”

The man was good. His straight poker-face betrayed nothing, if it wasn’t for the tick in his heartbeat, Erica would have believed him. She stood straighter and the hood of her cloak pulled back enough to reveal her face, “We aren’t here to be conned. You will let us in,” She ordered.

The smile from Borgin’s face thinned into a straight light. “And I’m not here to be ripped off. Since your last tip off, we have a received a greater selection of ingredients, which cost more money. I am only securing my profits, sweetie. Pay up or you will not receive whatever illegal potion ingredient you need for the Ministry. Merlin knows what you do with them each time an auror shows up in my shop, and let me tell you, it’s often enough for me to question the sanctity of our Ministry.”

Most of the pack found it difficult to distinguish a statement when it was laced with lies and truths, but Erica with much practice was able to pull the two apart. Since the man thought they were with the Ministry, she played along, “The Ministry’s business does not concern you. You either let us pass or we walk out.”

“Walk out then! I don’t need you. I have plenty of other customers.”

_ Lie.  _ Erica grinned and lowered her wand. “No you don’t. After the raid, you haven’t received a single customer.”

Borgin blinked rapidly and Erica heard the sweat slide down his wrinkly neck. 

“How presumptuous of you, young lady.” He leaned further against the counter again and Erica heard a click under the desk. She looked to Boyd to make sure he had heard it too. He stood taller. “You dare accuse me of having poor clientele.” 

“I didn’t accuse you of that. I only implied you need the business.” 

“I don’t need anything from you.” 

Erica was startled by the fourth heartbeat. She raised her wand in the direction of the back of the shop. 

_ “Expelli—Professor?”  _ _   
_ “Oh, it’s you two,” The man sighed. 

Erica was unsure whether she should lower her wand. There Mr. Old Mean Harris stood in the doorway. Immediately, she could see the difference in his features since the last time she had seen him. He was paler and his cheeks looked more sunken. He no longer looked like their potions professor and she really only called him that out of habit.

“You know them?”

Harris removed his glasses to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. “Old students.” He placed them back on and looked immensely displeased that his eyes were not playing tricks on him. “What are you two doing here?”

“We came to see the apothecary,” Boyd spoke, keeping the mission at the forefront of his mind. 

Harris shrugged. “Very well then. Follow me.” He turned their back to them and returned to the backroom.

Erica lowered her wand in confusion. She glanced quickly to Borgin who decided to ignore them and began to take stocks of a few silver spoons hanging by the entrance. She looked back to Boyd and the two shared a silent conversation.

Erica looked at the back area translating to: _ Should we follow him? _

_ I don’t know. Kira is out there. _

They began walking to the back of the room. Erica touched her ear:  _ You can’t hear anything down there. _

Boyd rubbed his throat:  _ We can take him. _

Erica agreed.

Harris was waiting for them in the store room. The place was ready to drown in merchandise. There were several stacks of black boxes pushed against the walls and each one touched the ceiling. There was a stack near the corner of the room that kept hissing.

Erica forced herself to focus. She faced Harris, who was standing by the staircase that led to the basement. 

He stood on the first step, looking in between them. The price is three galleons to enter. Each.” 

Erica and Boyd rolled their eyes, but pulled out from their pockets the money Jackson instructed they would have to pay. 

Harris pocketed the money before descending the stairs. “Don’t touch anything and I would avoid getting near the wolfsbane on the left side of the room.

Erica and Boyd parted the plastic drapes hanging in the entrance. The room was cast in a purple hue and Erica wondered how Harris worked in this lighting. However, when she saw the ingredients surrounding several cauldrons simmering in the middle of the room, she remembered that several potions were sensitive to light. Distilled vials hung from the ceiling. 

She kept her hand tight around her wand. 

“What are you doing out of Azkaban?” Erica asked.

Harris put on a pair of goggles over his glasses and continued on what he had been working on before. “I wasn’t sent to Azkaban. They can’t send someone to Azkaban with little evidence and such a petty crime. I was in holding in the Ministry basements.” 

Boyd had lowered his hood and crossed his arms. “So how did you get out?” 

“I didn’t escape if that’s what you two are wondering. Someone paid the bail and I was let go. Borgin is an old friend and offered me my old job before I became a professor.” 

“You should have rotted there,” Erica spat.

Harris measured a strange liquid in a vial before pouring it in the large cauldron. “Please Reyes, I only aided Julia in potions. Which seems to be why you need my services too. What can I help two meddling Hogwarts students with?”

Erica and Boyd shared another look. “We need Polyjuice Potion, enough for two people,” Erica ordered. 

“Polyjuice doesn’t work on non-humans.”

“It’s not for us.”

“Ah, that’s right. I forgot there were humans in your little  _ pack _ . I would have thought your impulsive Alpha would have converted them already.”

Erica growled low under her breath. “Shut up and give us the potion.”

“Fine, fine. Give me a minute.” He cast a spell on the cauldron and the ladle began to stir the brew. 

He walked over to a large cabinet on the right side of the room and searched through the contents. He came back with a large jar filled with green slush. It reminded Erica of vomit. He handed it to her but Erica refused to take it.

She pointed her wand at him. “Open it.”

“Are you kidding me?” 

“Open it. I need to make sure, it’s really Polyjuice.”

He rolled his eyes and opened the lid, holding it near Erica’s face. She smelled the potion and it made her want to throw up, “Yup that’s Polyjuice.”

“What are you using it for?” Harris asked curiously as he closed the lid. 

“None of your business,” Boyd remarked. 

“Whatever. That will be 30 galleons.”

Jackson had told them to bargain but Erica didn’t see that being appropriate considering they all knew each other. Erica handed him the money and received her Polyjuice Potion. 

The two left the shop without a word and searched for Kira.

“You got it?” Kira asked them when they crowded together.

“Yeah, felt too easy though.” Erica responded.

“Don’t complain,” Boyd growled under his breath. “Let’s head back.” 

 

|~~***~~| 

 

“Stop fidgeting.” Stiles scolded Allison. 

“Sorry.” Allison coughed awkwardly, “I’m not used to having  _ that _ hanging between my legs.” Allison hissed, subtling adjusting her wizard robes below the waist. 

“Oh Salazar’s Slimy Dick, that’s so weird.” Stiles looked at the buttons on the lift as they descended the floors into the Ministry of Magic. “You shouldn’t talk in Parrish’s body. I’m gonna have nightmares and you might give us away.”

“What about you then?” Allison rolled her shoulders. “You sound nothing like your Dad.”

“I will have you know I’m great at impressions!” Stiles’ raised his voice in the lift, thankful there was no one there with them. 

Allison smiled awkwardly. “Umm…”

“Hey! I am!”

“Scott’s good at impressions, you on the other hand—”

“—I can imitate my Dad, Allison.”

“Yeah, ok just, try not to use expressions like Salazar’s Slimy Dick in public.”

“Right, professional.” Stiles lowered his voice as much as he could, “I want none of you getting involved!” He said sternly. “How’s that?”

Allison scrunched her face, “Terrible, but it’s all we have.” 

The lift doors opened. Stiles stepped out first and Allison followed behind Stiles, the way she had seen Parrish do before to John Stilinski. Stiles seemed to know where he was headed as he maneuvered around several desks and cubicles with ease. Allison just tried hard to not trip over her larger feet. 

Stiles saw his father’s nameplate bolted to the front of his door just up ahead. He straightened his back and hoped his impression of his father would suffice for his father’s secretary by the door. 

He gulped and approached the lady. She was a blonde-haired woman in her early forties with a tattoo of a robin currently perched in the juncture between her neck and shoulder.

“John!” The secretary cried in surprise. “I thought you had sent a party to France.”

“Change of plans.” Stiles coughed out. Oh, Allison had been right. His imitation  _ was _ terrible. 

The bright witches’ eyes narrowed and the bird on her neck ruffled its feathers. Her hand reached slowly below her desk. 

Stiles fought hard to not let panic appear on his face. “You know how those go with you having to deal with Dorine changing her hair every second of the day. Poor wife of yours is gonna go bald with all those potions she puts in her hair.” Stiles said quickly. 

The witch brought her hand out from under the desk, less apprehensive but still cautious. “Yes. Last week it was a green; Jordan, what did you say her head looked like again?”

“Ah, he can’t talk.” Stiles saved Allison, “Raleigh cast a spell on both of us so our voices aren’t exactly the most pleasant. Jordan here is embarrassed by his.”

“Seriously? In the middle of all this.” All previous suspicion dissolved on the secretary’s face. “Ugh, that man has no tact, just last week he cast a spell in the breakroom to make all the food bite back.” 

“I know, I still have the teeth imprints.” Stiles remembered his father telling him this story. 

The witch shuddered. “Me too. That’s the last time I try to eat kidney pie. Although, the fear of it has slimmed my waist. Wouldn’t you say?”

“It’s always been slim, Frances.” Stiles teased her the same way he had seen his father do countless times. 

“Cute, but I still won’t take you on that offer for lunch.” She grinned. Allison nearly, saw Stiles break composure at that. “What would that fiery Healer, what’s her name again...Melissa McCall say?” She looked down at her papers and then back at John, “Anyway, what did you change your plans to? I need to make a note of it for the record logs.”

“I need to go to Azkaban.”

“What for?” Although the witch, had already stood and moved to one of the cabinets behind her. She tugged it open and the cabinet drawer stretched eight feet, nearly hitting Allison in the nose. 

“Confidential.”

“Confidential, confidential, of course.” She filed through some papers and pulled out a form. “Alright, just take this to Gilead and he will give you the portkey.” She checked her watch, and Allison could see instead of the face of a clock, it was one with the faces of several people with the designations saying, ‘lunch’ ‘out’ ‘etc’ “You might wanna hurry, he’s about to take his early lunch.”

“Thanks Frances.” Stiles rolled up the form and beamed at her. 

“Of course. And be sure to tell Raleigh if he pulls such a juvenile spell on me I will be sure to send my wife after him with a basket full of her fermented cabbages.”

“Will do.” He wasn’t quite sure how to end the conversation so he nodded awkwardly and began to rapidly walk away. Allison wasn’t far behind. They made it to the lift and when the doors shut, Stiles sagged against the wall. 

“Oh fuck, that was scary, I thought I was going to be caught by Frances.” 

“How do you know so much about them?” Allison questioned. 

“My Dad likes to tell me stories about his workplace.” Stiles said a little sadly, at the thought of his father’s trust and companionship. 

The lift doors opened and the pair cut their conversation short. Stiles pulled up his father’s persona once more and searched for Gilead in Security. He wasn’t that hard to find. He was a very large man with bright red hair. Now he knew what his father meant when he said Gilead looked like a tomato. Stiles received the portkey with little complication. The man explained to them they had ten minutes before the portkey activated and three seconds before it became invalid. 

It was enough time for them to make it outside the Ministry so Allison could apparate them back to the Hale home. 

Once they arrived, everyone moved efficiently. The Polyjuice began to wear off and the two were quick to change. The others were gathering weapons and other necessities. When they were ready, they had a few seconds to spare before gathering their breaths. They crowded around the pink feather and when it glowed gold, everyone touched the feather with a finger to make room for everyone. 

The familiar pull of a hook at his navel jerked all of them forward. Their feet left the ground and everyone banged against each other, They were all speeding forward in a howl of wind and swirling color and then—Their feet slammed into the ground. Cora staggered into him and Stiles fell over. The pink feather floated slowly into his lap. 

An icy chill encased his bones. He disentangled himself from Isaac, who had fallen as well, and got to his feet. They had arrived on what appeared to be a deserted stretch of misty shore. The crash of waves would have been jarring to his ears but his mother’s screams were keeping him plenty distracted. 

Stiles jumped as Derek placed a hand on his shoulder. The screams vanished and he was suddenly grounded. “Peter was here; I can smell him,” Derek informed the pack. “He’s inside.”

Everyone finally turned to look at Azkaban. It was a small fortress not very intimidating in size, but Stiles knew better. Azkaban and it’s most dangerous criminals were located in the dungeons. Stiles led the way. 

They walked through the massive doors of Azkaban and immediately felt the presence of dementors lurking about. Many of the pack members lit their wands to see through the darkness.

“Where are the guards?” Isaac asked cautiously.

“Probably with my father, they need all the aurors they can get.” Stiles walked over to a receptionist desk by the front door. He shuffled through the drawers and found a map of Azkaban. 

“So who's running the place?” Kira asked.

“The Dementors.”

The map of Azkaban was a strange one. The layout of the structure on the map looked nothing like the exterior of the shape of the fortress. Stiles had seen the map as a child and found it fascinating, now it was only frustratingly confusing. He searched through the cell doors and found the Argents name listed in the dungeons. 

Stiles rolled up the map and the pack continued to find their way around the fortress. Stiles led them down several winding staircases, the cries of miserable prisoners growing weaker as they deepened their descent. The smell of decay became stronger at each downward step, and Stiles felt that the cold creeping into his skin was  _ not  _ from the dementors. The atmosphere pressing on them in the bowels of the southeast dungeon was more depressing, and more soulless than anything a dementor could manage. This was where prisoners were brought when they had been sentenced to a dementor’s kiss. 

From the darkness and hopelessness of its depths, floated an eerie hum and the dim flicker of torchlight. The stench of death was thick enough to make Stiles want to gag, but he held it as he walked further into the chamber. 

He found it strange they had not run into any dementors but he understood why when he saw Peter, Blake, and Lycaon standing in the middle of the hallway. 

The pack hesitated enough for Peter to order Lycaon to roar.

The walls carried his roar and transformed it into a deafening echo. Immediately, from every corridor they heard a piercing cry and dozens of dementors flew their way. 

Stiles could only hear his mother’s dying screams as he fell backwards.    
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late upload! Was busy with finals and graduation.
> 
> Tell me what you think!


	60. Hiatus

Lately people have sent me nasty stuff on my tumblr page about this story. I haven't replied to any of them cause it's not worth my time.

But I just wanna say this story is going to be on **hiatus** for the following reasons:

1\. the nasty messages, which I will not mention.

2\. the lack of support I have been receiving for this story--I know a lot of people say you should write for yourself but this story is so much work that I do want recognition for it. It might be selfish but at this point I have the mentality it's my writing and I put so much heart into it and it feels pointless when I can't share that with others and I'm not getting feedback

3\. The fandom is dying and somewhat irrelevant (in my opinion)

**Questions:**

1\. Will you never write this story again?

I will continue writing it. Hell at this point, I have five chapters I haven't posted yet and probably won't anytime soon. I will continue writing it but will not post new chapters until I feel more comfortable sharing it again. 

2\. Can I pick up this story and write it?

No. I do not give permission for anyone else to write this.

3\. When will your hiatus be over?

I don't know. 

4\. What if you never pick this story up again?

If I reach a point where I no longer want to share this story again, I will not post the chapters I had written. Instead, I will post an outline of the remaining plot.

5\. What will you be doing if not Moonwalkers?

I am in the kpop fandom so I will be writing Seventeen fics or other kpop groups. 

So yeah, I think that covers most of it. Thanks everyone who has read my story and I wish you the best!


	61. Azkaban

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pack goes to Azkaban without a plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> News regarding the hiatus under the chapter.

Stiles was not the only one to fall to the ground. Most of the pack did as the dementors flew overhead. Stiles wanted desperately to protect his pack and cast a patronus, but the amount of dementors was too overwhelming. He leaned back on his elbows and watched as Derek lifted Allison to her feet.

Together they shouted,  _ “Expecto Patronum!”  _

A globe of light surrounded the pack and pushed outwards in a blast. The shrieks of dementors filled the air as they were scorched by the pure light. Those that remained encountered a strong wolf and panther. The animals either hissed and growled before pouncing on the dark creatures. 

In the commotion of it all, Stiles could see over Derek’s patronuses, Lycaon shielding Peter and Blake from any oncoming dementor. 

Soon, every dementor had fled to the higher levels of Azkaban. 

The two patronuses paced in front of the pack, baring their teeth to Lycaon before returning to their masters. They disappeared in a glassy mist. 

Lycaon stepped away from Peter and Blake. Peter tugged down his robes to regain his composure, “Well, I didn’t expect that to happen.” Peter chuckled humourously. 

The pack glared at him. Stiles quickly got to his feet and let instinct take over. His eyes smoked red as he walked in front of the pack. He could see Derek’s hesitation in having him in front, but he stepped down and readied his claws if the occasion called for it. 

Stiles raised his hands overhead, summoning a giant ball of mountain ash. It circled dangerously over Stiles. 

Peter smirked. “Mountain ash doesn’t hurt him, Stiles,” Peter called out. “I thought you had learned that already.”

“I know,” Stiles said, darkly. Months of training with Yukimura honed the accuracy of his magic. The mountain ash flew by Lycaon without touching him and instead made its way to Peter. It trapped him in a tight circle. 

“Lycaon, break the circle!” Peter ordered. 

Lycaon turned his back to the pack and Stiles used that moment in his favor. He created more mountain ash and shot it directly at Lycaon. He knew it would not hurt the creature, but he could still use his magic more creatively. He cast it around Lycaon’s arms and legs like binds to hold him down. Stiles grunted as Lycaon still tried to move forward. He tried to pull his mountain ash back but Lycaon was much too strong. 

Stiles saw Blake reaching down to break the line herself, but Stiles summoned his mountain ash without the use of his hands and cast it at her, aiming for her throat. It latched around her and yanked her to the wall. The mountain ash seeped into the cracks of the brick wall and trapped her against it. The woman clawed at the mountain ash, struggling to breathe. 

Stiles then heard a familiar roar behind him. The pack flew past him and ran down the hallway toward Lycaon. 

Kira was the quickest. She held her blade firmly in her hands. The air around her crackled in blue light. If she could just hit him with her lightning, it would be enough to subdue him. She raised her arm, ready to deliver the blow.

However, Lycaon bit through the binds on his arm and just in time, used his arm to smack Kira across the hallway. The girl fell onto Scott and Erica. The three of them crashed to the ground. 

The rest of the pack continued. 

Stiles tried to regain a hold on Lycaon, but each time a new wave of mountain ash would come at him, he would tear at it with his claws. 

As he broke through them, pebbles of mountain ash flew through the air, hitting the pack as well. When Stiles saw that, he tried to keep the smaller pieces in check to avoid them crashing into his pack. But in his distraction, Lycaon was able to handle the pack with little effort. 

He grabbed them and flung them into the walls and grounds.

The fight lowered to a simmering point when Lycaon managed to take Derek down. 

Derek’s head crashed against the wall, nearly losing consciousness. When Lycaon saw the entire pack could not rise, he calmly walked down the hallway in Stiles’ direction.

Stiles wanted to be strong but he remembered quickly the only thing that could hurt Lycaon. He let fear engulf all his senses. Stiles fell to his knees. Lycaon must have taken it as some sort of submission because he smiled, showing off his teeth. 

Thankfully, the red lights popped around him one by one. They danced around him, waiting for the next burst of fear to overtake him so they would fire.

Lycaon immediately stopped walking and looked at the lights with apprehension. 

“Lycaon, stop.” Peter ordered.

Stiles’ magic sensed the danger ease because the red lights disappeared.

Lycaon made his way silently back to Peter and the none of the pack dared to move from their position on the floor. 

Lycaon stood next to Peter and with the heel of his foot broke the connection. Peter gave Lycaon a curt nod. Lycaon then broke Blake’s. 

Peter stood straighter. “Now, is that out of everyone’s system?” He asked condescendingly.

His eyes stared straight at Stiles, “I’ll take a wild guess and say that you were the one who led the pack here. Brilliant boy, aren’t you? Tell me how did you figure it out?”

“You were the one who showed me what you did.”

Peter looked down at his shoes and back at Stiles, smiling. “I did. But you are ridiculous if you think you can defeat us with that poorly executed plan.”

Below Derek, Scott, and Erica growled. Peter laughed, “Don’t bother. I can have Lycaon slaughter all of you within a few seconds. None of you would see it coming and I would advise you, especially Stiles, to not pull any funny business like you did earlier.” 

Stiles only glared at him. He got to his feet to show he was not afraid of someone like Peter. 

Peter sighed and then his eyes fell on Derek. “Would you like to see them?”

“What are you talking about? See who?”

“The Argents. I was just about to visit them but your little boyfriend interrupted me.”

“I don’t want anything to do with them.”

“I can understand that, but I want you and Cora to come with me to speak with them. Where’s Laura?”

“No, thank you.” Derek answered, ignoring the last question. 

“I wasn’t offering.”

Derek in his show of defiance did not move from his position on the floor.

Peter rolled his eyes and ordered, “Lycaon, grab the human female.”

Lycaon was suddenly in front of Allison in a blink. He reached down, grasping for her arm. He pressed her back against his chest held onto both of her arms in a firm grip. Allison stood erect and looked down at Derek. 

Cora caved immediately. “I’ll go, leave her out of this.”

“I need your brother’s consent as well.”

Derek flashed his eyes but got up as well. “If I could, I would slit your throat.”

“I’m sure I would as well. Lycaon, escort the others to an empty cell, take Blake with you.”

“No.” Derek growled. “They stay here.”

“Derek, I will kill your pack.”

“I’ll keep them safe,” Scott assured Derek. He stood up next and helped the others to their feet. Stiles refused to move but a single look from Derek, had the younger sighing and following the rest of the pack. 

When they turned the corner, Derek looked at Peter. “Let’s get this over with.”

“You read my mind.”

They were only a few cell doors away from the Argent one and Derek thought Peter would be dramatic about it but he was quick to push open the door. He stepped in first with a crazed look in his eye and Derek was worried for a moment he would do nothing to stop Peter from killing them in a frenzy.  

But Peter did not move from the middle of the room. Derek shared a look with his sister, they both nodded and stepped inside.

He expected to see the Argents huddled in a corner as an empty shell, but they were seated together along the far wall, waiting. 

“Are you the reason for the commotion outside?” The elderly man asked. The man was much more haggard than when Derek saw him at his court trial. His face was more wrinkled and saggy. The little hair he had was now all gone. And the glimmer of defiance and rebellion in his eye was replaced with resignation and boredom. 

Peter ignored him. “Do you know who I am?”

“Should I?”

Peter growled. “Oh you better remember me like your life depends on it. Take a good hard look.”

“Life? I’m sentenced for a dementor’s kiss in three days. I would rather die. Do your worst.”

Peter growled again. He marched to Gerard and shifted in front of him. He lifted him off the ground and slammed him against the brick wall. Kate remained seated on the opposite wall. 

“You better rethink that because I can make a dementor’s kiss seem tame to what I can do to you.” 

“Then, do I get a hint? I’ve killed several werewolves in my day to keep track of who wants revenge.”

It was Cora’s time to growl. She stood by her uncle and Gerard. “We were the ones you could not kill.”

Gerard gave them a confused look.

It was Kate who answered. She stood on shaky legs. “Derek?”

Derek had refused to look at her the moment he walked in, but her direct address of him, made him give her attention. Kate was now twenty-two, but life in Azkaban had aged her considerably that she looked nearly forty. There was nothing beautiful about her anymore. Her long dark hair was in a nappy mess, her skin was pulled tightly against her bones, every inch of her was festering in dirt, and mold seemed to be growing on her head. She was revolting to look at. However, when she called his name and finally placed him, a smile pulled at her lips. Now that Derek was much older, he could finally see that her smile carried no comfort. Her smile only conveyed power she wanted to possess. 

“Look at you, you’ve grown so much.” She pushed against the wall. Her legs trembled violently as she neared him.

Derek stepped back. Panic overtook him. “Don’t come near me. I said don’t come near me!” He looked away from her and let his gaze focus on the gunk in between the brick floor. 

Cora sensed his anxiety and slammed Kate against the wall. 

“Kate? Who are they?” Her father asked, expressionless watching a werewolf pin his daughter. 

“The Hales. Remember? They’re the reason we are in here.” She looked past Cora’s shoulder. “Derek, you’re so big and tall. Beautiful even.”

Derek could smell deceit wrap around her like a snake. “Don’t speak to me.”

“Why? There was a time when all you wanted was to listen to me and talk.” 

Cora suddenly stepped away from Kate as the tiny scent of truth seeped off her. Derek looked at Cora, remembering she had not been given all the details of that night. She did not know how Derek betrayed them so openly. 

“You loved all of our conversations, you loved everything about  _ us _ . To the way I would stroke your hair, comfort you as you cried, kissed you.”

Derek wanted to growl but something was holding him down, preventing him from doing so.

He heard Gerard chuckle, “Oh, now I remember who you are. My daughter used you to get to your family. The Hale family, yes. It’s all coming back to me now. The screams of your family burning away, the scent of burning flesh, the wondrous noise of children’s tears. It was the most beautiful cleansing I had ever done.” 

Peter growled menacingly. He grabbed Gerard around his shoulders and threw him across the room.

Kate looked worried for a few seconds. 

Peter walked to him and stared down at him. “You disgusting excuse for a human. I should kill you where you lie.”

“Don’t.” Kate spoke for her father. “What satisfaction would you get from that? A quick kill? Wouldn’t you rather see us burn the same way your family was?”

Derek gathered courage to look at her again. 

Kate was staring longingly at her father. It hit Derek, that it must have been Kate, who had led the attack on their family. Even in Azkaban, she had an ease of demeanor and power.

“We should kill you anyway we please,” Derek spoke, finding his voice.

Peter smirked, “That’s why I brought you here Derek. I knew you would agree with me.” 

Derek hated to admit, but killing the Argents seemed perfect. 

“Kill?” Kate suddenly laughed. “Derek killing me? Oh that’s hilarious.”

Derek narrowed his eyes, “Why are you laughing?”

Kate smiled, “Derek, did you never stop to think why I approached you? I had been watching your family closely for weeks before I even dared to show myself to you. I thought at first of befriending your youngest sister, Cora, right?” She smiled fondly at Cora, “But then I saw you, and oh Derek, you were perfect. Out of everyone in your family you were the weakest.”

Cora growled to defend Derek, but Derek placed a hand on Cora’s shoulder. He pulled her back and let Kate continue. 

“And I’m not talking about your little cry over what’s her name? The girl you killed. That didn’t cause your weakness. You were weak before that and I could see that you would grow up to be this weak man. I’m good at seeing these things Derek. I have never been wrong, otherwise how would I have succeeded. Weak little Derek, that’s what I used to call you in the letters I would send to my father. And I thought you were beautiful because of it, weakness is so easy to take in your hand and nurture it with false hope before shattering it and crippling it even further.” She sighed then examined him up and down, “Weakness is still on you. Even if your physical strength is exquisite, that thing in your chest is beating so pathetically!”

“Derek,” Cora said to her brother, “Don’t listen to her. She’s crazy.”

Derek only shook his head and released a shallow chuckle. He had moved past this thing with Kate. He could handle this, “I think you’re confusing weakness with vulnerability.”

“What’s the difference?” Kate chuckled.

“That vulnerability allows one to become strong.” Derek looked at Peter and Gerard. Peter seemed to sense his intention and stepped away from the elderly man. He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “And you know what that means, Katherine? All those years back, you should have made sure you killed me before taking off.” Derek growled and he felt everything within him expanding.

His senses impossibly heightened and his thoughts dulled. Except for one.

Now as a wolf, he charged at Kate. The woman gasped and fell to the ground. Derek snapped at her neck—an inch away.

He pulled back and paced in front of her.

Kate began to laugh again. Her laugh was loud in the cell, echoing manically. “No, I’m pretty sure it’s weakness.”

 

|~~***~~| 

 

The door behind Stiles shut as Blake placed them all in an empty cell. He expected Lycaon and Blake to stand guard, but instead they joined them. Lycaon stood against the opposite wall while Blake paced in front of them. Stiles watched her closely. She was always a loose canon. 

“If anyone makes a move, I will unleash Lycaon on you,” Blake threatened all of them.

The pack shifted in worry, but Lycaon only rolled his eyes.

“I will not obey your will. Peter Hale ordered me and I will only follow his commands.” He then addressed the pack, “I will not hurt you unless my master wills it. You can be sure of that.” 

Stiles and the others didn’t know how to respond after Lycaon’s attempts at comfort. 

Lycaon’s eyes memorized each pack member, until his eyes landed on Stiles. “Your power is like Rhea’s.”

Stiles felt Scott grasp his shoulder and glare at Lycaon. 

Lycaon ignored Scott and instead asked, “Why do you have her power?”

Stiles took a deep breath, “We are distantly related.”

Lycaon nodded. “You smell exactly like her, it’s fascinating.” Stiles fought the urge to flinch as Lycaon moved to get more comfortable against the wall. “Her power was great, a formidable warrior. If she had trained with Hippolyta, I would have not crossed her path. Her magic alone was strong and if she had been trained in combat she would have been unstoppable.”

“She was. She stopped you.” Stiles shot out. 

“She murdered me in cold blood, that’s what she did. There is a difference.”

“There isn’t.”

“Then tell me? Is humiliation part of stopping me? I can still feel her magic burning me from within, while she laughed. She paraded my wounded body across several villages before killing me. I at least had the respect to kill my victims with mercy, quick and efficiently.”

“You lie.”

“And how would you know? Did Rhea give you the truth?”

Stiles almost lost composure. Lycaon was right, Rhea was biased. He knew that from reading her entries. If one thing was clear, Lycaon did not need to lie. “You were murdering people.” Stiles decided to say. “You deserved whatever punishment she gave you.” 

“It was out of my control. It was the price I had to pay.” Lycaon almost looked sad, but Stiles was not budging. 

“Bullshit. My friends have control. Don’t throw that around like some excuse.”

He expected Lycaon to lash out in anger, but he remained in the same position. “Your friends, I am assuming had someone to teach them to control themselves. I had no one.”

Stiles continued to press forward. The rest of the pack was sending him pleading looks to stop, “Pandia tried to help you but you betrayed her.”

“Pandia could not control the beast within me. It had a mind of its own. Pandia said that the only one who would be able to help was Zeus but he had already turned his back on me the minute he gave me this curse.” 

Stiles bit his lip mulling over Lycaon’s words. If he wanted sympathy, he wasn’t getting any. It still did not change the fact Lycaon had become a werewolf in the first place was because he tried to murder and sacrifice all his sons. So instead, Stiles tried to rationalize Lycaon’s speech, “So why do you have control now?”

Lycaon licked his lips and returned his eye contact with Stiles, “I’m not quite sure, but I believe it has to do with the vessel.”

Stiles didn’t have time to ponder that tidbit of information as suddenly they heard a woman’s laugh echo loudly in the dungeons. 

Stiles panickingly looked at the door. 

Allison was already walking to it. 

“Stop,” Blake told her.

Allison looked over her shoulder and only eyed the woman up and down before leaving. Blake was about to chase after her, but the rest of the pack growled in her direction. Lycaon did nothing to stop it. 

 

|~~***~~|

 

Derek heard the cell door open with a creak. He turned to the noise and saw Allison standing there. She didn’t seem perturbed that Derek was in his wolf form. 

Instead, she looked at Kate, who was still laughing against the wall.

“And who are you?” Kate wheezed, wiping her tears. It only streaked more dirt across her face. 

“Your niece.”

“What?” Kate stopped laughing and looked Allison inquisitively. “Allison?”

“Yes.”

Kate stood up quickly and so did Gerard. They went to her with the indication to embrace her. Allison refused both of them.

“What are you doing here?” Gerard nearly looked ready to burst into tears, “You are supposed to be in Beauxbatons.”

Allison sighed and looked to the pack and Peter. Peter was watching the scene calculatingly. 

“I don’t attend that school anymore. I go to Hogwarts now.”

“Hogwarts? Why would you go to such a school?”

“My father was appointed as a professor there shortly after my mother died.”

“Victoria? She’s dead?” Gerard lamented.

“Yes, the day of my hunter initiation.”

Gerard gasped, “I can’t imagine her dying. She was one of the best hunters I had known, but Allison—for you to survive over her—that must mean you are a stronger hunter than she is. I knew you would be.” He looked at her with so pride. 

Allison smirked. She stepped away from her family and made her way over to Cora and Derek. “I’m not exactly a hunter anymore.”

“What are you talking about?” Gerard asked.

Allison reached down and patted Derek’s fur at the top of his head. 

Gerard’s eyes opened wide, while Kate began to scream in random outbursts across the room. She pulled at her hair. 

“You are with that abomination!” Gerard shouted, foaming at the mouth.

Derek looked up at her as she smiled softly down at him. “He’s not an abomination. He’s my Alpha.”    

“He’s your what?!” Gerard shouted even louder.

“My Alpha. I’m part of his pack.” Allison looked back at her family. “It’s funny, don’t you think? All of you used to rage on how I was a prodigy and was going to bring this family into even greater glory. Well, it’s still going to happen. I’m going to restore the Argent name all on my own, it’s just going to be on my terms.”

“Allison!” Kate screamed hysterically. “How could you do this? You’re sleeping with that thing aren’t you! That disgusting disease.” Kate was now sobbing.

Allison kept her face neutral. “No, he’s my close friend. They both are and I am so grateful they allowed me to get close to them after the things my family did to them.”

Kate screeched loudly. Gerard looked ready to attack her but he seemed hesitant with the wolf by her side.  

Peter finally spoke. “Are you done?” He questioned Allison.

“Yes.”

“Why did you come in here?” Gerard suddenly snapped.

“Isn’t it obvious? Peter came here to kill you. I came here to see what decision my Alpha would make. Whatever it is, I wanted to see your faces.”

Allison sensed Derek tense under her fingertips. She scrunched her face, wondering if Derek had understood her in his wolf form. He had told her before that his language comprehension was severely limited. 

Peter snorted, “You aren’t going to stop me from murdering your family?” 

Allison looked at Peter, “Not really.”

Peter smiled. “Good. Then, I have nothing stopping me now.”  He extended his claws and walked forward. 

Despite the bravado Kate and Gerard had carried before, it all seemed like an act now as they retreated to the opposite wall. Peter marched to them slowly, enjoying the hunt.

“Wait!” Cora shouted, stopping Peter in his tracks. She looked at her brother. “Are we sure we want to kill them? Peter is doing it yeah, but by not stopping him we are accomplices. Do we really want to reach their level, Derek. Do we want to kill?”

Allison observed Derek carefully. Derek most likely only understood the word kill in Cora’s speech, but it was probably enough for Derek to think twice about it. It only took a second before Derek was stalking forward and growling at Peter.

Peter stopped and looked over his shoulder, “You have got to be kidding me!”

Derek’s response was to continue growling. 

“I don’t have time for this. I’ve waited and planned this way too long to have you stop me!” Peter shouted manically. “Lycaon! Come!”

Allison shrinked back as she heard a door slam open. Cora took her arm and herded her to a corner of the cell. Cora stood protectively in front of her right as their own cell door splintered open. 

Lycaon observed the scene quickly and his eyes fell curiously on Derek. The creature almost looked awed staring at the wolf before him. 

“Lycaon! Kill these two prisoners.”

Lycaon nodded. Derek launched on top of Lycaon. His mouth immediately latched onto his throat. Lycaon growled loudly in pain. Derek however, was still not strong enough to pierce Lycaon’s tough skin. Lycaon struggled to shrug Derek off, but Derek wasn’t letting go. Instead, he clamped down harder.

Allison heard a whimper and saw Gerard and Kate watch Lycaon in fear. The two were shaking and crying. Merlin, they looked so pathetic.

She then saw Peter continue walking toward them.

“No!” Allison screeched. She tried to step forward, but it was difficult, unless she wanted to be caught in the crossfire between Derek and Lycaon. The two were moving violently across the cell. Derek had finally managed to pierce his skin, and blood was covering Derek’s fur. 

Lycaon was shrieking in pain and had lodged his own claws in Derek’s side trying to get him to let go.

Allison’s eyes fell back on Peter and then she saw it. There was no teasing, nothing.

She saw him raise his arm once. Twice.

Blood splattered against the cell.

And that was it.

That was that.

Only blood.

Peter unlodged his claws from Kate’s throat and faced them. Allison thought she would be disgusted at the sight of his arm and front splattered in blood and grime, but she was too distracted by his face. He was crying. 

“All those years, after sacrificing so much. I did it. I killed them.” Peter suddenly let out a hoarse cry. Allison did not know Peter much at all, but she knew he had meant to laugh instead of break down.

He fell to his knees and pressed both hands into his eye sockets. The blood on his hands dirtied his face. 

Allison head snapped to the doorway as she heard several footsteps. She saw Stiles leading the pack and quickly apologizing to Derek as he summoned his mountain ash. He drew a line of it in between Lycaon and Derek. Derek was shot back away from Lycaon and collided against the wall. Allison ran to him and began to press her hands against his wounds. Her hands filled immediately with Derek’s blood. She pressed harder and she heard Derek whine.

She looked up briefly at Lycaon and saw his neck already closing up. 

The pack seemed frozen with their next move as they watched Lycaon head toward Peter, who was still crying. He picked the man up and brought him to his feet. Peter was still covering his face. 

“Out of my way!” Blake shouted, pushing past the pack at the doorway. 

She made it through and Allison could see a portkey already activating in her hand. She pushed the portkey into Lycaon and Peter right on time. The three of them disappeared in a pop.

When the danger disappeared, the pack rushed forward.

All of the werewolves crowded around Derek, each one getting their hands tangled in his fur. The veins in their hands and arms protruded as they sucked the pain away. Derek whimpered. 

“What happened?” Lydia demanded, grabbing Allison and hauling her up.

Allison only pointed to the corner of the room.

“Is that?” Stiles asked softly.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t get it, who is that?” Kira asked.

“My aunt and uncle.” Allison answered.

She shrieked and so did most of the pack as they heard a shot ring around them. 

Allison saw John Stilinski and a few of his trusted aurors appear around them. His eyes fell on Derek first. 

“Parrish, take Stiles home.”

“What! Dad, no!” Stiles shrieked and tried to move away from Parrish. He shoved him away and moved to the pack. Parrish was quicker and stronger. He grabbed Stiles and pinned his arms to his sides. Stiles shrieked louder. “No, I need to be with Derek. Dad!” Stiles voice disappeared with a loud crack.

“Graeme, contact Melissa McCall at St. Mungos. Tell her to set up a private room.” The woman nodded and disappeared as well. John looked away from the panicked werewolves who were huddling near Derek. His eyes fell on the Argents with their slit throats by the wall. 

“Sir, you know what this looks like,” Auror Clark said. She placed a hand on his shoulder. “There are werewolves here and two dead bodies, we have to report this.”

“No.” John spoke firmly.

“No?”

He nodded. The small Auror glared at him. “Then how are we going to explain two dead bodies!” 

“We didn’t kill them,” Kira spoke with fear. “We didn’t, we promise.” 

Auror Clark didn’t look convinced. Allison understood what she had to do. She stepped forward to John and the auror. “Have me take Veritaserum. I’ll answer any questions.”

“Allison,” John looked reluctant.

“I’m not a minor anymore. You are allowed to force Veritaserum under these circumstances!” John still didn’t seem to want to but Clark was already moving.

She pulled out a vial from her robes and pulled out the truth serum that all aurors were meant to carry. She handed the vial over and Allison took it. She downed the bottle quickly. 

“Who killed them?” Clark asked.

Allison felt the words slipping out like vomit, “Peter Hale.”

“Was Lycaon here?”

“Yes.”

“Where are they now?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can you not know?”

“They didn’t exactly tell us where they were going.”

“How did they escape? Only aurors can apparate out of here.”

“They had a portkey.”

“Why are you he—”

“Clark! Enough!” John ordered. “You are out of line. Allison, go wait outside the cell so you won’t be forced to answer anything out of your will.”

Allison did not want to leave, but she felt Lydia and Kira both take her hands and lead her outside.

“What happens to the werewolves then?” Clark asked.

“We will give medical treatment for Derek Hale first. The others take them back home.” John’s tone left no room for disagreement.

He walked steadily to the werewolves and placed a hand on Derek’s fur. He looked at the pack members. “I need to take him to Melissa. All of you need to let go.” 

All of them seemed reluctant, except Scott. Scott understood and immediately released Derek. When the rest of the pack saw that, they shakily untangled their fingers from his fur. John smiled at them gratefully before apparating away with Derek.

 

|~~***~~|

 

It took Parrish an hour to get Stiles to finally calm down. It took another hour for Stiles to sit down on the couch and wait for his dad to return home. And it took four hours after that, for his father to actually appear.

“Dad!” Stiles shrieked when he saw his Dad, go through the fireplace. “Where’s Derek!”

“He’s fine. Melissa was able to heal him. He’s at home resting now.”

Stiles fell against the couch in relief. He took several deep breaths. 

“You’re lucky your ex-professor informed the aurors that there were unregistered werewolves buying illegal potions in Knocturn Alley. He thought he would be compensated for the information, he’s an idiot and I’m glad he’s not teaching anymore.” John took several breaths before returning to his accusatory tone. “Derek could have bled out in Akaban.”

“I know, shit.” Stiles hissed, hands coming to tangle in his hair. He had caused this. He could have had Derek die because he went in there without a plan.

“You know what I’m gonna say.”

“Yeah, I know. You don’t want me involved. I got it.”

“But do you actually mean it this time?”

Stiles didn’t answer. 

“Stiles, go to your room, get some rest.”

Stiles was too tired to argue. He left and headed up the stairs.

“Jordan,” John began, dropping formalities. “I need you to watch my son.”

“Excuse me?”

“Make sure he doesn’t leave this house.”

“I’m sorry, sir. You want me to babysit?” Parrish squared his shoulders. 

“It’s not really babysitting…”

“Sir, I did not train in the academy for three years to watch some teen.”

“He’s not just any teen, Jordan. You’ve seen the trouble that follows him. I want to keep him out of it, please. You are the only one I trust with this job.”

“Fine, but you owe me a pay raise.”

“Deal.”

“I’ll come back in a few hours. Just make sure he doesn’t get up to anything.” 

 

|~~***~~|

 

“My dad is making you babysit me huh?” Stiles asked.

“Yup. Knight to E-5.” Parrish said. 

“Oooh bad move! Bishop to E-5!” Stiles took the broken pieces off the chessboard. 

Parrish sighed.  “Out of curiosity why aren’t you more worried about your, what’s the word…”

“Boyfriend?” Stiles sat more comfortably on the couch. 

“I was going to say Alpha, but sure.”

“My dad said he was okay.”

“And you believe him?”

Stiles didn’t even hesitate in replying. “My dad isn’t the liar in this family. Plus, the rest of my friends would have found a way to tell me if he wasn’t.”

“You really trust them don’t you?”

Stiles stopped to stare at Parrish. “Yeah. They’re my pack.” He saw Parrish smile at that. Stiles couldn’t help too as well. He had known Parrish since he had been appointed as an auror at twenty-years. He had been the youngest admitted into the department in over forty-five years. Now the man was twenty-nine, soon to reach thirty. And in that time Stiles had known him, Stiles always respected Parrish, even if he was tightly wound and took his job so seriously. 

“What about you? You always do what my dad says?” Stiles asked to keep the conversation going, even though he already knew the answer. 

“I have to if I wanna keep my job.”

“Ooh, does that mean you don’t always agree with him?”

“You would have to be crazy if you agreed all the time with your boss.”

“True. So what have you disagreed with him in the past?”

_ “This.” _

“Hahaha, I meant other stuff.” Stiles understood that babysitting duty wasn’t the most thrilling duty. 

“Just small things. Nothing big.”

“I’m guessing its confidential information so you can’t tell me.”

“Yup.”

“Well, I will have you know that I have direct access to all your documents.”

“How?”

“I have my ways.”

“I’ll admit, you have been getting better sneaking into the ministry since you military crawled through it that one time.” Parrish said with a chuckle. Stiles remembered that time as well. It was when he was eight trying to sneak into his dad’s office and military crawled his way across the floor. The auror department and secretaries had found it so adorable, they pretended not to notice him and let him sneak up on his dad. “Still, I’m not going to tell you.”

“Alright, I’ll get it from Frances, later.” Stiles attention drew to the fireplace as it lit up. He thought it would be one his pack mates or even his father, not Morrell and Deaton.

Humor drained from his face. He stood suddenly, knocking the chessboard off the coffee table. His hands balled into fists. 

“Get out.” Stiles demanded. 

“Stiles,” Deaton said. 

“I said.  _ Get. Out. _ ”

“Stiles, please listen.”

“No, get out!” Stiles faced Parrish. “Make them leave.” Parrish looked uncomfortable to escort the Headmaster of Hogwarts away from the premises. “You’re supposed to help me.”

“From danger,” Parrish said awkwardly. 

“They are dangerous. They lied to me.” Stiles seethed.

“Stiles,” Morrell said evenly. “Let my brother speak.”

“Why? So he could lie to me some more!”

“So we can have a civil conversation unlike the last one. Please.” The plead surprised Stiles, and he was positive that if Deaton had repeated anything Morrell had said, he would have flat out refused. But the fact it was coming from Morrell, the woman who acted like a mentor for him and a trustworthy confident, had Stiles conceding. 

His hands opened slowly. 

“Okay.” 

Stiles looked at Parrish hopefully. The auror understood. “I’ll keep watch outside. Don’t leave, please.”

“I won’t,” Stiles assured.

He watched Parrish head to the rarely used front door and shut the door softly behind him. Deaton and Morrell hovered awkwardly around the living room. Stiles gestured for them to sit. Deaton took the recliner chair diagonally from him and Morrell sat beside him on the couch. 

“What did you want to talk about?” Stiles wanted to have some semblance that he was in control here. 

“I wanted to apologize,” Deaton spoke. “Even if I know my apology is futile.” 

“Is that why you came? Just to apologize?”

“And to explain to you about the nature of Lycaon’s revival.”

“What do you mean?”

Morrell was next to speak, “Stiles, I was the one who had the vision of this happening, a long time ago, when the Hales were still alive. That many years has allowed my brother and I to determine how this would all play out. We knew a little of the ritual. It was a legend told to many old packs and then when your pack had found the actual documents of the ritual and how they had done them, it’s become clear to us how you will defeat Lycaon.”

Stiles felt like falling out of his seat. “Are you serious?! How!”

“Don’t get us wrong, it still carries out your prophecy,” Deaton said. “But it’s a way.”

“I don’t care, just tell me how.” Stiles was much too hyped with the possibility there might be an actual plan to defeat Lycaon. Death wasn’t that scary if it was guaranteed to work.

Deaton and Morrell shared a look. “The ritual Peter and the others made was imperfect. There is no way to revive the dead unless you are a Master of Death, but knowledge of that has been wiped from any textbook and mind of any wizard alive.”

“So Lycaon isn’t really alive?” 

“I’m getting to that. According to Noshiko, the reason kitsunes can restore a spirit’s soul and return it to the spirit world is because a spirit’s true essence still resides in the spirit world. Kitsunes only snap a spirit’s life like a rubber band. It pulls them back into where they belong, which is death. The spirit’s soul cannot cross over into ours. So what the ritual created is that Lycaon’s true spirit is still in the spirit world and only a part of him is here.” 

“That’s what Lycaon had been implying.”

“I’m sorry? You spoke to Lycaon?”

Stiles ignored Deaton. “He said he has a semblance of control because of his vessel. Which makes sense. Wizards have always theorized the deep connection between the body and soul, it's crafted in a way where someone’s essence rests between these two and with Lycaon’s body gone to time there’s no way to fully revive him.” 

Deaton nodded, “That’s a simplification of it, but yes that’s partially why Lycaon can’t fully come to life here.”

“Does that mean that Kira is going to be the one to kill him?”

“No,” Deaton sighed. “Kira is too weak. She doesn’t have all her tails, something she would need to restore Lycaon back into the spirit world.”

“So how do we kill him.”

“Like the prophecy says, you are going to have to die to kill him.”

“I don’t get it.”

“When you die you would kill Lycaon’s true essence in the spirit world.”

“Is that even possible?”

“It’s all theory, but that’s what the prophecy implies.”

“I thought you were giving me a clear way to kill him. Not some theory bullshit.”

“Stiles, please.”

“No, I’m not risking my life for something that may not even possible. I mean listen to yourself, killing something already dead in the spirit world. Where would it go then?” 

“It wouldn’t exist anymore. That’s it. Nothing would be left.”

Morrell finally spoke, “Stiles, we aren’t forcing you to do it. It’s only a theory we have. I’m sure there are other ways.”

“Yeah, sure there is.” 

Awkward silence festered.

“Stiles, may I use your bathroom?” Morrell spoke, rising to her feet. 

“Yeah. There’s one behind the main staircase.”

Morrell gave a curt nod and left Deaton and Stiles alone.

“I’m sorry I’ve upset you.” Deaton said. 

“It’s whatever now. Anyway, did you hear what happened?”

“About what?”

“Peter.”

“I—yes. Marin had told me. It was the reason, I decided to come here.” 

“And?”

“And...I feel very sorry for Peter. Sorry, I could not stop him from following this path.”

Stiles leaned in closer. “Were you close to Peter?”

“Very much so. I grew up with Peter and in Hogwarts, we were best friends. Along with Deucalion and Ennis.”

“I sometimes forget you were all friends.”

“More than that. We would have ridiculous discussions, fanciful ones more accurately, on how we would abandon all our pack ties and just merge as one. Deucalion, Peter, and I were the ones who held this belief strongly. We found pack on pack dynamics strange and cumbersome. It would be much easier to fight for werewolf rights together, but Talia did not see the point. She was the eldest and at your age, while I had hoped Peter would become the next Alpha for the Hales. I knew the right decision would be Talia. Although, sometimes I wonder if Peter had been made the Alpha, would he still be in this deplorable position today.” 

“I think there’s too many ifs in all this.”

“You’re right. Still, one cannot help but long into the past and admire a future that could have been.” 

Suddenly, the two flinched as they heard something clang outside. Stiles and Deaton both stood up in alarm.

Then they heard Parrish’s voice shouting,  _ “Incendio!”  _

Stiles ran to the front door. He pulled it open and stared dumbfounded as he saw Peter and Lycaon on his front lawn. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After some time of reflecting and reading your wonderful support in regards to my hiatus, I have decided to continue this story. But, I will not have a set time when I will be uploading, rather when a chapter is done will I do so and post it. Also, this story is no longer going to take priority anymore, but rather will take behind by current Seventeen fanfic. 
> 
> Also, while I have four chapters done I am going to go back to rewrite them as the next two are the most vital to this story. I am not happy with some characterizations and scenes and I really want to give my readers something I’m proud of, which basically means starting from scratch. 
> 
> And I just wanna say how much I hated the Azkaban design in the movies. It should have been a fortress, why would it be a long tower? Everything else has been based off of olden times a huge tower isn’t one of them. 
> 
> And the reason Allison's patronus is a panther is because panthers accept our dark shadow selves and I thought this correlates with Allison’s acceptance of who her family is and was
> 
> So yes, I think that’s it and I hope all of my readers take care!


	62. Ambush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lycaon and Peter make a surprise appearance but an even greater one reveals itself to the pack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance.
> 
> On another note, sexual content ahead.

Stiles’ eyes drew to Parrish rising from the floor and firing his wand. A jet of purple light flew toward Peter, but the werewolf blocked the attack with his own magic. 

_ “Out of the way!” _ Stiles was shoved against the wall, as Morrell ran past him. Her robes flew behind her as she charged in, wand at the ready. She stepped in front of Parrish to block a spell. 

“Peter, what are you doing?” Morrell raised her voice without shouting. 

Peter sneered distastefully at her, “What do you think, Marin?” He pointed his wand at Parrish. “To kill him.” 

“Me?” Parrish’s voice rose an octave in obvious confusion. 

Morrell shushed him, “Going to dirty your hands again?”

“Shut up!” Peter shouted, spit shooting out of his mouth. “I made an error. I’m not going to do it this time. Lycaon will kill him for me.”

Morrell’s eyes narrowed. She raised her wand and non-verbally cast a fire spell at Peter. Parrish felt the load lessen and turned his back to Morrell and cast a fire spell at Lycaon. 

Deaton left the safety of the house to help them, “Stiles, stay inside!” Deaton ordered. 

“Oh fuck!” Stiles mouthed, finally getting his bearings. He ran back to the living room. 

He slid against the carpet, his knees protesting against the burn. His hand gripped too much floo powder causing it to smoke excessively as he threw it into the fireplace and called out his father’s place of employment. 

His father’s secretary, Frances answered the floo. “Oh, Stiles. Pleasure to see you, how can I help—”

“Get my dad! Lycaon is at my house!”

He quickly ended the line and grabbed more floo. He coughed as Lydia answered the Hale fireplace. “Lycaon is here.”

Thankfully, that’s all he needed to say. Within seconds, Scott, Allison, Kira, and Lydia emerged from the fireplace. 

“Where are the others? Where’s Derek?” Stiles shuffled backwards on his knees before standing. 

“Trying to keep Derek from moving. He still has a few more hours for the wounds to completely heal.” Lydia stated. “The others are trying to keep him from moving.” 

All of them flinched as they heard something crash outside. Scott and Allison started heading toward the front door. Stiles shot his hands out quickly toward them, nearly tripping over the carpet.

“No no no no no, you guys can’t go out there.”

“Why not?” Scott’s eyes opened wide. “Lycaon is on your front yard!”

“Because we don’t have a plan and not having a game plan is what almost got Derek killed.”

The pack was silent as they mulled this over. “It was my fault that I dragged everyone there.” 

“So what do you suggest?” Kira asked, hand already at her katana in case Lycaon barged inside the house. 

“I think the only thing that can hurt him is your sword, we should—”

The fireplace crackled. Everyone jumped as John emerged. John looked at all of them with worry and he sighed slightly in relief as he saw Stiles was fine. “All of you floo to the Ministry now,” John ordered, running outside.

“He swears,” Stiles scoffed.

“Stiles!” Lydia shouted. “What are we doing?”

“We need to seperate Peter and Lycaon. Lycaon can’t do much if Peter isn’t there to order him. We need to knock out Peter.”

“How?” Lydia leaned a hand on her hip. “Lycaon is guarding him.”

“Allison can you distract him with your bows?” Stiles asked her.

“Think so, yeah.”

“Good. I’ll use my mountain ash to drag him. Scott, Lydia take down Peter with all you got. Kira once Peter is knocked out, strike at Lycaon. I’ll keep Lycaon down for you.” 

“Got it!” Kira said.

Stiles took a deep breath with the others. “No one does anything risky, got it. We all back out if someone is having trouble. Or otherwise Derek will kill us if we get hurt.”

Everyone flinched at the repercussions Derek would inflict on them if they did something stupid. So they all agreed and rushed to the scene.

Stiles stopped at the doorway as he saw his father building a fire barricade around Lycaon. It seemed to be working, because while the flame was not burning the werewolf, the lack of air within the bubble was proving to be a problem. 

Meanwhile, Morrell and Parrish were dueling with Peter, who was showing he was just as talented as a duelist.

Stiles directed the others to go with the plan.

Allison pulled out her bow and arrow and began to shoot at Lycaon. The arrows failed to pierce his skin, but they scratched against him painfully. Allison took a deep breath and kept her hands steady, firing an arrow directly at Lycaon’s eye. He growled and pushed out of the fire toward her. 

Stiles heard his father shout his name as Stiles jumped in front of Allison. Stiles concentrated and summoned his mountain ash. He drew it by Lycaon’s feet, successfully tripping the werewolf. From his periphery, Stiles could see his father freeze in surprise. 

Stiles continued pushing forward. He summoned more mountain ash and blanketed it over Lycaon’s fallen body. Lycaon growled as he struggled to get to his feet. Stiles felt his magic breaking and he exerted more force. He built the mountain ash over and over again, trying to keep Lycaon contained. Stiles then fell to his knees. His hands digged deep into the grass and the mountain ash traveled along the ground like a black river toward Lycaon. 

Stiles felt Allison stand beside him, readying her bow in case the mountain ash broke and she needed to guard him. Stiles kept his gaze steady on Lycaon. His Moonwalker eyes met Lycaon’s Alpha ones. Stiles wanted to glance over to his right to see if the others had taken down Peter yet, but he was scared if he broke his concentration, Lycaon would break free.

“Stiles! Now!” Stiles heard Kira shout.

Stiles sagged in relief and broke the mountain ash enough for Kira to step close. The air around her crackled in blue lightning. 

Her sword was raised, ready to deliver a blow to the middle of his back but before she could strike, Kira was blasted backwards from an unknown spell. Kira collided against the iron front gate. She was left conscious but was in obvious pain. She fell onto her stomach, keeping pressure away from her back. 

Stiles gasped. His momentary fear allowed Lycaon to break the mountain ash. It flew all around him and Stiles had to react quickly to avoid the mountain from flying toward Scott. 

Allison helped Stiles scramble to his feet as he tried to build the mountain ash around Lycaon again, but he was panicking too much to make any sort of barrier. Where had the spell come from?

Stiles saw Deaton firing his wand at the roof. Stiles followed the spell and saw Blake standing on the roof of his house, using her higher vantage point to direct spells below. One came at him and he ducked out of the way just in time. Beside him, the grass charred. 

“Lycaon!” Peter shouted. Stiles snapped his head to Peter, who was pushing off the ground, “Roar.”

Lycaon puffed out his chest ready to deliver the deadly sound, but Lydia was quick. She stepped away from Peter and started running toward Lycaon.

The pack shouted her name in fear, but Lydia could not hear them. Her face became blank and the color of her eyes swirled into a white storm. Suddenly, Lydia began to scream before Lycaon could. 

It was her banshee wail. 

Immediately, both Scott and Peter cried out in pain. They covered their ears and pressed their heads into the ground, grinding their teeth. It took a while for Lycaon to do the same. At first, he only grimaced but as Lydia keep screaming, she brought Lycaon to his knees. 

John saw a perfect opening. A powerful spell was falling from his lips, but Blake used that moment to apparate in front of John and disarm him. She sneered at all of them and touched Lycaon’s back before apparating away. Peter reached for his wand and apparated a near second after. 

Lydia sucked in a breath of air and stopped screaming. She fell to her hands and knees in exhaustion. Meanwhile, Scott despite his pain ran toward Kira to make sure she wasn’t badly hurt. She flinched as he touched her back. Steadily and carefully, he lifted her and placed her over his shoulder. 

“Stiles,” John said, breaking the silence. Stiles turned to his father, whose face was wrinkled in concern. “Go inside.”

Stiles nodded weakly. Allison helped Lydia to her feet and slowly the pack returned within the home.

Scott placed Kira gently on the couch. He ran his wand over her back and muttered a low level healing spell. Kira grunted in pain as her back cracked loudly, but relief came second later and she was able to sit up.

Lydia was sagged in the recliner chair, while Allison hovered over her. Stiles and Scott remained standing. 

“I’m surprised that worked,” Lydia breathed out, slapping Allison’s hands away. 

“Who did you sense die?” Stiles asked cautiously. 

“Some old man die in his sleep miles away.”

“You can do that?” Allison asked. “Find someone about to die?”

“Apparently. It was a gamble. Sorry about your ears,” Lydia told Scott. Scott smiled. 

“I thought we agreed not to do anything risky,” Stiles reprimanded her.

“It wasn’t that risky compared to our eardrums almost exploding in our heads if Lycaon had roared. You can thank me later.

“At least we found something to hurt him,” Scott defended her.

Allison agreed, “And Kira’s kistunes powers.”

Kira scrunched her eyes, “What do you mean? I didn’t attack him.”

Stiles nodded, seeing Allison’s point. “But it could have, and I think they understood that. Blake wouldn’t have shot you away if it wasn’t going to have some nasty affect. That’s why she didn’t stop any of the fire spells or my magic.” 

Lydia sighed, “I thought your Moonwalker magic would have had more of an effect on him.”

“I thought so to, but Lycaon isn’t like other were—” His voice trailed as he saw the adults enter the household. 

The pack listened intently to them. 

“I don’t understand, why do they want to kill me?” Parrish questioned. 

John stopped in front of the fireplace, crossing his arms. He shook his head, “Who knows, but we’re going to figure out why.” 

Morrell stood behind the couch and leaned her weight against it. Stiles could see the front of her robes were singed and covered in ash. “I thought it was obvious.” Everyone slowly turned toward her. She gave them a look like they were all idiots. “Peter just killed the Argents in Azkaban. They were the ones directly responsible for the Hale fire, but now, Peter wants to kill everyone even remotely involved.” 

“But I didn’t do anything to the Hale family!”

“Not intentionally,” Deaton answered. “When the Wizengamot was deciding what to do with the Argents, they found evidence that you provided, saying that the Argents were mentally unstable. That evidence stopped the Wizengamot from ordering a direct execution of them and instead they only got time in Azkaban.”

“Which is fair!” Parrish exclaimed. “They were unstable and I even said we could channel their ignorance into learning about werewolves, to remove that werewolf hate propaganda.”

Morrell snickered behind the couch, “Auror Parrish, excuse me but, you can’t educate people like that.”

“That’s right,” Allison muttered. She sat on the armrest beside Lydia. “They truly believed what they did was right. Even in Azkaban in their last moments of Peter coming at them to slash their throats, all they saw was a dangerous werewolf that reinforced their beliefs. My aunt and uncle were not going to stand for rehabilitation.” 

“But I don’t see why the Ministry couldn’t have tried.”

“Auror Parrish,” Deaton spoke. “You’re intentions were good, but Peter Hale will not see them that way.” 

“So he’s going to kill me?”

“Lycaon is,” Morrell interrupted. “Peter is irrational right now. He just killed two people with his bare hands. The only other time Peter had killed anyone was out of defense and he was distraught for months because of it. You cannot imagine what he is going through at this moment. He honestly believes if Lycaon draws blood, he is free from being labeled as a murder and being reduced to the same people who killed his family.” 

John leaned against the fireplace. Stiles saw his father give Morrell his interrogating look, “Why do you know so much about Peter?”

“You are forgetting that Alan and I were close to the Hales since we were young. They were our friends along with Deucalion. I was the Hale’s emissary after Deucalion died.”

“Emissary?”

Stiles jumped in, “I’ll explain what that is later.”

John continued to stare at Morrell carefully, “It sounds important to tell me now.”

Deaton coughed, “We are guides to werewolf packs. We choose the Alpha and act as an advisor to the Alpha in important decisions. We also help new werewolves with the full moon. My family has been emissaries centuries back. I am sad to say I haven’t been a good emissary after the Hale fire. Marin has been a better one to your son and his friends.”

John looked back at Morrell. “And you were the emissary to Deucalion?”

“Yes, as well as his wife.”

“What? We investigated that house after Deucalion’s family was killed, we found no mention of you in there.”

“For my safety, I destroyed any evidence that I was ever involved with the Deucalion family.” 

“Dad,” Stiles spoke up. Morrell’s past was always a sensitive subject. He hated bringing it up to her and he could see the way she gripped the couch, she wasn’t comfortable talking about this either. “Drop it. She’s helping us.”

John sighed and gave a tired nod. 

“So what do we do? I don’t wanna be killed,” Parrish spoke up again. 

“We fight,” John answered. “Stiles. Call your pack here.”

Stiles spluttered. “I’m sorry what?”

“Call your pack,” He said begrudgingly. 

“Wait, wait, hold on. Scott, did you leave your recorder at my house. I need to go over this one more time. Cause it seems like you actually want our help?”

_ “Stiles.”  _

“Sorry, okay. You want me to call them now or?”

“In a few hours. I need to go back to the ministry and gather up a team. Parrish, stay here.”

Stiles snorted, “You want the guy that is attracting an evil demon werewolf to protect me from danger?

John groaned, “Parrish, come with me. Deaton, Morrell, I know it’s too much to ask—”

“No need to ask,” Deaton raised his hand. “We will gladly stay here and keep them safe.”

“Thank you. I’ll be back in no more than three hours.” 

Stiles watched his father’s tense back as he disappeared through the fireplace. As soon as the aurors were gone, he turned to Morrell. “I’m sorry about my Dad. He didn’t mean to bring up anything from your past.”

“It’s fine,” She said in a monotone voice. Her arms crossed in front of her. 

“Stiles?” Deaton asked, stepping near him. “Does your home have any wards?”

“Yeah.”

“What kind?”

“If it senses anything is a threat, it’s not supposed to let them in... _ Merlin!  _ The wards broke. Someone broke our wards!” 

“Exactly,” Deaton said. He paced around the living room. “Question is who.”

“More like how,” Lydia interrupted. “Danny’s good with wards and spells like that. He’s told me before that wards that are cast to sense danger are not only extremely difficult to cast but nearly impossible to break.”

“Nearly?” Deaton asked curiously.

“They would have to be broken from the inside.”

“Interesting. Well, I’m sure you four can keep yourselves occupied. I’m going to step outside if you don’t mind. I want to see exactly what happened to your wards.”

“Do you need our help?” Kira questioned.

“No, stay inside and rest. Marin and I can manage.” 

Stiles saw the two make their way to the backyard. 

“Now what?” Allison asked.

Stiles shrugged. “Call the others, I guess.” 

 

|~~***~~| 

 

Stiles called the pack via floo a few minutes after Deaton and Morrell went to the backyard. He assured the pack everyone was fine and joked that no one got killed—Derek didn’t appreciate his humor. Stiles said when Derek’s wounds healed to come over and so he could explain the situation with Parrish and that Stiles’ Dad wanted the pack’s help.

Almost three hours after that, the pack finally came just in time for Deaton to come into the living room, while floating a strange looking plant. 

“What the hell is that?” Isaac screeched, backing into Erica.

“It seems like this is what broke through the wards. Marin, what is this plant?”

Erica dashed forward instead and smiled at the plant. She answered for the pack, “It looks like a type of modified Hemiepiphyte.”

“Which are?”

“Plants that begin growing up in the canopies and grow down to the ground. They grow slowly but once the roots reach the ground and eat into the nutrients, growth rates accelerate. But it looks like this one eats magic, from the little puff pod here,” She pointed at the purple flower expelling a green slime every few seconds. 

“It ate the ward.” Deaton said. 

“How?” Erica asked, “These only grew in tropical rainforests. And getting your hands on these isn’t easy.”

Morrell sighed. She cast a spell and the plant shriveled up into a single leaf, “I’m sure it wasn’t hard for Peter and Blake to find one. They sell illegal potions in Knockturn Alley; I wouldn’t be surprised if they also sold illegal plants.” 

Stiles licked his lips, “How did they get in here?”

Morrell shrugged, “The plant itself could have floated here. It would have passed the ward no problem.”

Everyone’s attention drew to the fireplace as John, Parrish, Chris Argent, Noshiko Yukimura, and four other aurors entered the Stilinski Manor.

Jackson, who had been sitting on the couch stood quickly at seeing his uncle back in his auror uniform.

“What is he doing here?” Jackson questioned, warily. Lydia stepped near Jackson and so did Stiles.

“Helping you lot,” His uncle said. He turned away from Jackson and looked to John. “Should I begin setting up?”

“Yes. Supplies are in my office.”

Jackson’s uncle nodded and spared one last look at Jackson before leaving. John sighed. “Alright everyone, as you know that was Auror Whittemore, that’s Auror Graeme, Auror Clark—Allison, you already met her, and Auror Cordova. They are going to be helping us in this investigation.”

“Should we be working with aurors with the whole you know, ordinances in place?” Scott asked hesitantly.

Auror Clark  stood straight and took a military posture. “My behavior earlier today was unacceptable. Forgive me. Head Auror Stilinski has informed me of all your situation. We are vowed to keep everything secret for the sake of the mission.” She glared at the pack however to mention, “I’m aware that you attend school with my younger sister, Hayden. I would advise for your own safety to keep away from her.” 

“Is that a threat?” Derek snorted haughtily.

“It will be if you give me reason to.”

“Auror Clark,” John spoke. “Stand down. I choose these aurors because I trust them with my life.” He snuck a peek over his shoulder as Auror Whittemore returned with a handful of parchment and ink. “And all of us will be working together to bring Lycaon down.” 

The pack nodded, resolute. None of them bothered to ask why they were suddenly being asked to help, after all looking a gift hippogriff in the mouth seemed rude. 

“So, Stiles,” John said, handing his son a quill. “What’s the plan?”

Stiles dropped the quill on the floor. “What? You’re asking me?”

“Yes, Stiles.”

“Why?” Stiles asked. He was prepared to listen to his father’s plan and modify it where necessary, not actually lead whatever the hell they were going to do.

“Because I saw your pack handle themselves well out there. And I saw you take down Lycaon on your own.”

“He did what?” Auror Cordova laughed. “That scrawny thing.”

“My son has lots of power, don’t be fooled Cordova.”

“But—”

“He’s a Moonwalker,” Yukimura spoke, hovering behind everyone. “He can do it.”

“What’s a Moonwalker?” Auror Graeme asked.

Yukimura smiled, “A killer of werewolves.”

All the aurors’ eyes turned to Stiles in shock. Stiles fidgeted under their stares.

“So that means?” Graeme slowly asked.

Stiles looked at his pack, he got several nods from them. Stiles turned back to the others and took a deep breath showing his red eyes. The aurors other than Parrish, jumped in shock. 

Stiles licked his lips, “I can make mountain ash appear out of thin air, order werewolves with my voice.”

“Order them?” Auror Whittemore questioned curiously. “Why don’t you order Lycaon?”

“Because I don’t like using that power. It works the same way as an Unforgivable. Plus, I doubt it would work if my mountain ash hardly does anything.”

Scott jumped into the conversation, “But his mountain ash is still strong.”

The pack nodded their consent. 

Feeling his pack behind them, Stiles nodded. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

The pack jumped into action. Lydia transfigured the coffee table in the center of the living room into a large round table. The others summoned several chairs and everyone sat at the table. The pack was on one side and the adults on the other. Stiles was seated between Scott and Derek, drawing out key plans.

The aurors and his father watched in awe as the pack worked together to make a plan, their voices overlapped and they spoke almost as one.

“We need to draw them in an open space.”

“Someone’s house will do.”

“Better to think of bait first.”

“Use Parrish, they want to kill the poor bastard anyway.” 

“Yeah and from there we can set into teams. One for Blake, Peter, and a large group for Lycaon.”

“Lycaon’s group should be the aurors.”

“No, we should handle Lycaon.”

“Aurors have stronger magic, Jackson, stop making that face. We’ll use them as conduits for Kira’s magic.”

“Spread them out more.”

“We need more.”

“That’s brilliant. A circle with Kira in the middle, everyone shooting magic into her sword.”

“Will it support it?”

“Yes.”

“But we need to calm Lycaon down first.”

“Your mountain ash and knocking out Peter and Blake.”

“Good.”

“What’s about Lydia’s scream?”

“As a last resort. Otherwise all of us will be caught.”

Stiles agreed and continued drawing everything out. He finished his drawing with a circle around a stick figure Kira and Lycaon by her side. “Ok, we’re done.”

The others were staring at them in silence. John was the only one to chuckle, “Close your mouths, aurors. Don’t drool over my son’s work.”

Stiles sent his father a grateful smile. 

“So what’s the exact plan, Stiles?” John asked.

Stiles went over his sketches. He took a deep breath and watched all the aurors, “Okay. We are going to strike in Parrish’s house. You live the outskirts of  Ottery St. Catchpole so there’s a lot of space for us to work there and we don’t have to worry about putting anyone else in danger. When they appear, we will break into teams. Cora, Jackson, Boyd, and Isaac will take down Blake. We need brute strength and speed to take someone like her down.”

“And how exactly will you take her down?” Cordova sneered.

Cora sneered back at him, “Let us worry about that.”

Stiles continued, “Deaton, Scott, Erica, and Auror Trollface,” Stiles coughed, “Sorry Auror Whittemore.” Stiles glanced at Jackson and saw his fellow Slytherin fighting to contain his grin. “Will take down Peter. Auror Whittemore, speak with Scott and Erica for more details.” 

Stiles took another deep breath. “Ok so this is where it gets tricky. Derek will turn into his werewolf form. You actually made damage to Lycaon in it. So you are going to be in a circle with Kira. You will keep her guard while her mom, Auror Clark, Auror Cordova, Morrell, and my Dad shoot lightning spell into her sword.”

Yukimura interrupted, “I hope you know while your plan to shoot more power into my daughter’s weapon is actually quite brilliant and I’m surprised no other kitsune has thought of that, oh I’m sorry, they have but realized how incredibly and stupidly dangerous that is. If anyone misses, you can kill her.”

“I know, mom,” Kira answered. “But we can do it.”

“Right!” Stiles defended her. Everyone in that circle has the steadiest hands for spells and it's been proven that Kira’s magic is powerful against werewolves.”

The woman still did not look pleased, but she consented when John told her everything would be fine. 

“Okay,” Stiles went on, “While Derek is guarding Kira, Mr. Argent you will be guarding the circle, making sure to keep anything away from them. I’ll be helping you keep Lycaon in place while Parrish guards me because Lycaon will come after me once I start throwing out my magic. Allison, you’ll take the high vantage point on Parrish’s home, making sure everything's running smoothly. Lydia you are our last resort. You will be guarding the others too but once everything goes to hell, you start screaming. Auror Graeme you are going to keep Lydia safe when she does that.”

“Well son,” John said when Stiles was finished, “It seems like you covered nearly everything but how are we getting them to Parrish’s home?”

Morrell spoke up, “I can draw them there.”

“You sure?”

Morrell’s eyes scanned Stiles’ drawn out plan, memorizing every sketch and note attached. “Yes.”

“Okay. We will strike tomorrow afternoon. Everyone get some rest.”  

Everyone consented and started vacating the living room. Stiles stayed in place with his father looking at the plan.

“I’m proud of you Stiles,” John said when everyone cleared out. 

“I’m surprised you are letting me do this.”

“Me too, but when I saw you fighting earlier today...you looked like an auror who had been fighting for years.”

Stiles snorted, “I’ve just been fighting for my life for two years, Dad, nothing big.”

“Oh, well, that’s very comforting to hear.”

Stiles laughed, embracing his father.

 

|~~***~~| 

 

Jackson did not really expect to be led outside so soon. His uncle had ordered them to talk and Jackson’s response was to roll his eyes. It only took a glare to remind Jackson that as much as he hated his uncle, he was still family and a man who had raised him since birth.

He followed him to the backyard and they sat on the lighted front porch. Jackson looked over his shoulder and saw his pack on the second floor, peeking out the window to spy on them.

Jackson scoffed. 

“Cast a silencing spell.” Jackson told his uncle.

“Why?”

“Everyone in this goddamn house is nosy.”

His uncle nodded, casting a barrier around them.

“Okay,” Jackson slouched against the patio chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “What did you want to talk about?”

“I wanted to ask how you’ve been doing.”

Jackson shrugged snootily. “Fine.”

“Is John treating you well?”

“Better than you would have.”

His uncle’s jaw tensed. “Jackson. What I said back at St. Mungos—”

“What? You didn’t really mean it? C’mon, don’t start bull crap. I’ve known you my whole life. You meant every word. The only reason you are here is because John gave you your job back. That’s it.”

“Fine, you caught me. I did mean it. I still think you’re disgusting to look at and I can’t believe you call those things in there pack.”

“Well they are. So what’s the real reason you wanted to talk?”

His uncle sighed, “Your aunt misses you.”

“Tell her to send her tears in a letter.”

“Jackson, that’s quite harsh.”

“Is it? It wasn’t just you who kicked me out. She did too. Where was she when I was packing my things? She wasn’t sobbing in the doorway. She was helping me move out. She did not want me there. So I’m not going to believe whatever apologies regurgitating out of that woman’s mouth. I’m not gonna believe in any of you.”  

“We thought we were doing the right thing. We were mistaken. We want you back. We’ll find a way to live with your condition.”

Jackson choked on a laugh. “No, I’m not going back ever again. I don’t see how I could move in with the two people who had abandoned me when I had nearly died in a fire. You weren’t there when I needed you. So I guess fuck you.”

Jackson pushed his chair back and stood up.  He left his uncle sitting alone on the porch and all Jackson could think was that it felt so good. 

He searched out Lydia. He caught a trace of her perfume on the third floor. He headed upstairs and found her sitting on alcove overlooking the backyard. Jackson glanced down and saw that his uncle was still sitting there. Jackson nudged Lydia and sat beside her.

“Feel better?” Lydia asked him with a smile.

“Much.” 

“I never liked him.”

“He didn’t like you either.”

Lydia giggled and leaned against Jackson. They watched the night sky in peace and after a long stretch of silence, Lydia looked up at him, “You are more than what your uncle thinks you are and you are more than your name, Jackson.”

Jackson hugged Lydia round her waist and scented her neck. He kissed her neck and planted his lips at her soft jaw, “I know that now.”

Lydia tilted her head and Jackson met her halfway, pressing his lips against hers. 

 

|~~***~~| 

 

Derek kept his senses alert. He watched Stiles get ready for bed and concentrated on his erratic heart rate and his anxiety-ridden stench. Derek didn’t say anything about it for a long time. He sat on the bed of Stiles’ room and kicked off his shoes and toed-off his socks. Stiles tripped over air and apologized to no one in particular as he made his way to the bathroom.

Derek sighed. He missed Stiles’ other scents. Yes, anxiety was a big part of him, but it usually evened out with excitement and the smell of mischief. He knew it would be wrong of him to bring up such a change, but Derek wanted for at least a moment pretend everything was the way it was supposed to be. 

He removed his clothes down to his boxers and waited for Stiles to come out of the bathroom. He came back smelling like mint. Derek sent him a soft smile, but his naked state had a different effect on his boyfriend.

Stiles unconsciously tapped into his Moonwalker magic. In the blink of an eye, he was right in front of Derek. His hands were on Derek’s flank, examining the flesh.

“It healed,” Derek muttered, prying Stiles’ hands away. 

“How bad was it?” Stiles asked, his body still reeking of worry. 

“Not as bad as the burns. Melissa was able to help me quickly. She’s been using that salve Morrell made for werewolves.”

Stiles sat beside him on the bed. He poked at his flank with a sharp nail. 

Derek batted his hand away, “Hey, I’m still sore,” He attempted to joke, but Derek didn’t have the tone for it.

Stiles’ face turned apologetic. Derek rolled his eyes. “Come here.” He gripped Stiles around the waist and brought them down on the bed. 

Stiles fidgeted in his hold and Derek loosened his grip so Stiles could rest comfortably on top of him. 

“Remember when you made me dance in front of the Great Hall?” Derek asked with a small smile.

“No.”

Derek rolled his eyes, “I think it was your fourth year. The snowmen. They made me dance.” He had hoped a smile would break on Stiles’ face, but Stiles’ eyes only shook.

“Derek, you almost died today. Why aren’t you freaking out?”

“I’ve almost died so many times it’s starting to get old.”

That made Stiles snort. Derek chuckled and flicked Stiles’ cheek harshly. Stiles yelped.

“There’s that smile.”

Stiles pressed his chin on Derek’s chest. “Are you trying to make me laugh?”

“I don’t know, is it working?”

“I think your future job as a comedian needs to be rethinked.”

“Really? But I have so much material to work with.”

“Like what?”

“You.”

Stiles laughed, “Oh look at you! Making morbid jokes and poking fun at your boyfriend all in one sitting!”

“Hey, it’s all I’ve got to work with.”

Stiles sighed, “You are ridiculous.” Stiles flipped over and fell onto the mattress beside Derek. Derek had thought he had let the worry seep out of his body, but it only came back full force.

Derek wrapped an arm around his waist and tucked his head in Stiles’ shoulder. 

“I know you’re worried about tomorrow—”

“—Of course I am. How can you not be?”

“I’m trying to be strong. So…” Derek maneuvered Stiles so they would face each other. “Talk.”

Stiles licked his lips before replying, “I’m scared if the plan doesn’t work I’m gonna go for Plan B.”

“Which is?”

“Deaton thinks the prophecy is right. I’m going to die. He says it's the only way. I’m hoping that’s not what it comes down to, but I’m starting to see maybe it’s for the best.”

“Stiles—”

“—No. I know what I have to do Derek.”

“And I know what I have to do. I’m not letting you die. We have a solid plan and this will work.”

Derek leaned forward and captured Stiles’ lips in a gentle kiss. “I hate that you ended up being the optimistic one in this relationship,” Stiles said as he pouted.

Derek pecked him again, “Hey I can’t be all frowns and glares.”

“And there you go. Your third joke in a day, where have you been hiding this material from here?”

“Hey, I’m funny. You just never bothered to listen.”

“I listen and all you do is give me that sourwolf pout.”

“You’re just jealous I have the potential to be funnier than you.”

“If you’re funnier than me, then Merlin help me, my face was sculpted by the gods.”

Derek chuckled and pressed a kiss to Stiles’ jaw, “Yeah, as a joke.”

Stiles slapped Derek’s chest as he laughed loudly. “Okay, I walked into that one. That was good.”

“See,” Derek pressed another kiss to Stiles’ neck. Derek inhaled the scent. It was returning to that old Stiles smell. “I told you. I’m hilarious.”

“Okay Mr. Funny Man!” Stiles snorted. He got more comfortable on the bed and tangled his legs with Derek. “Tell me a joke.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You said you’re funnier than me. Prove it!”

“Okay,” Derek said, racking his brains for ideas. “So I do have this one joke. My cousin Daryl told it to me. It’s kind of perverted though.”

“Perversion and hilarity count me in.” 

“So…” Derek began to tell the long tale. Derek felt Stiles melt in his arms and the feeling was one that was surely missed. This was the Stiles he fell in love with and he was more than pleased it had not disappeared. It had just been buried under absurd amounts of stress and talk of prophecies. 

“And then the goblin puts on the witch’s cloak and takes the elf’s tunic balled up under his hat and makes his way toward the wizard prince’s bedroom. He pushes open the door and sees the dragon leather on the wizard prince’s bed and the pumpkin juice by the window and then—”

“Merlin stop!” Stiles couldn’t stop laughing in his arms. “I know where this is going.” 

Derek continued, “So the goblin wraps the witch’s cloak tighter around himself and pulls out the elf’s tunic—”

“No I’m serious, stop!” Stiles wheezed out, his face completely red now. “Why does my boyfriend know dirty goblin jokes? I’ll never be able to look at pumpkin juice the same way again.”

Derek laughed with him. “Fair enough.”

It took a minute for Stiles to calm down and when he did, Derek realized he had Stiles wrapped all around him.

“Hey,” Stiles whispered. His face was still tinted red and his heart rate had picked up. 

Derek understood. He reached for his wand on the nightstand. He locked the door and cast a silencing spell right in time for Stiles to capture his lips. 

Their kiss was slow but consuming. Mouths parted immediately and tongues met, caressing each other sensually. Stiles was the only one really clothed, so Derek drew up the hem of Stiles’ night shirt over his head.

When the shirt was off, Derek’s lips drifted to Stiles’ neck. He wanted to leave a mark, but Stiles always complained that he could never reciprocate the hickeys since they would heal quickly. So Derek merely mouthed Stiles’ collarbone, his tongue tracing the trail of birthmarks until he reached Stiles chest.

Stiles breath hitched as Derek slid down the mattress to take Stiles’ nipple in his mouth. He rolled the other one with his thumb and Stiles’ hands latched onto his hair like a vice.

Derek grinned, overly proud of the response. 

A few minutes of teasing Stiles’ flesh had Stiles writhing underneath him. Stiles whined, begging Derek to get up. Derek did. He got on his knees and watched as Stiles pulled off his pajama bottoms and underwear all in one go. Derek’s mouth parted and he felt his tongue fatten in his mouth.

Stiles looked up at him, completely aware of what he had done. He got on his knees in front of Derek and teasingly snapped the band of Derek’s boxer briefs. Derek hissed and groaned a second later as Stiles began to palm him over his underwear. 

Derek tilted his head back. Stiles kissed Derek’s collarbones and made his way down his chest.

Derek’s breath hitched. His hands raked through Stiles’ messy hair and groaned loudly as Stiles tugged his underwear to his thighs and began to suck his cock.

The moan that left his mouth was embarrassing. But fuck, Stiles had gotten good at this.

“Stiles,” Derek panted. He pushed a bit of hair back and nearly came at the sight of Stiles looking up at him. If there was a person alive who could smile with a dick in their mouth, it would definitely be Stiles because that’s exactly what he did as he reached to stroke himself as he sucked Derek’s cock. 

Derek’s hips convulsed and he inadvertently pushed into Stiles’ mouth. Stiles moaned around him.

“Fuck, fuck,” Derek gasped out, trying his best to not thrust into him. 

Stiles picked up the pace, still staring up at Derek to watch every single reaction he could pull out of him. And all Derek could do was stare right back, nearly losing his entire mind. 

Stiles pulled off his dick with a trail of saliva still connecting his mouth with Derek’s tip. “Thank Merlin you cast a silencing spell. I thought  _ I  _ was the loud one.”

Derek growled. He gripped Stiles’ shoulders and shoved him on the bed. He gave him a bruising kiss, while he used one of his knees to push Stiles’ legs apart.

Stiles had the audacity to laugh into the kiss, making the kiss messy. “Oh, fuck, fuck,” Stiles moaned dramatically, imitating Derek. “Stiles, don’t stop!”

“That’s not what I said.”

“I could have made you say it.”

Derek glared at him. “Oh, I’ll make you say it.”

“Nice comeback,  _ Derek! _ ” Stiles released an embarrassing squeal as Derek bit into Stiles’ inner thigh. 

Derek chuckled and continued mouthing and kissing Stiles’ thighs. Merlin, he has birthmarks everywhere. He kissed each one, making red marks stand against his flesh. Each touch, kiss, bite, and suck, was making every sound come out of Stiles’ much much louder.

“See,” Derek teased, pressing a kiss to the base of Stiles’ cock. “You’re still the loud one in this relationship, sweetie, and I haven’t sucked your dick.”

“Don’t call me sweetie, Der-bear.”

Derek laughed, rejoicing in their old banter. Everything was ok. Everything would return to the way it was after they defeated Lycaon tomorrow. And letting the thought of tomorrow’s events touch his mind completely changed the mood. He became worried. 

Shit, what if he did lose Stiles? He couldn’t lose another person he loved. The universe wouldn’t be that cruel to him, would it? 

Of course it would.

Derek captured Stiles’ lips in a desperate kiss. It was that kiss that changed Stiles’ mood too because he seemed to remember what was upon them. He gripped Derek’s shoulders tightly and wrapped his legs around Derek’s waist, rutting against Derek’s stomach.

Derek growled against Stiles’ lips. He gripped onto Stiles’ thighs and began to thrust against him.

Their movements were chaotic. Sweat slid across their skin, saliva fell onto their chins, and precum was squelching against their stomachs.

It was Stiles who came first. His nails dug into Derek’s shoulder blades almost painfully. It was that sensation along with Stiles’ scent that had Derek releasing all over Stiles’ torso. 

He collapsed on top of him. 

Both their breaths were ragged. They took several deep breaths and Stiles let his legs droop on either side of Derek’s body. 

After a moment, Stiles whispered in Derek’s ear, “I love you.” It was the most confident sounding thing Stiles had said that entire day. 

Derek nipped at Stiles’ earlobe, “I love you too.”

 

|~~***~~| 

 

The clouds overhead were sparse. The April showers had dispersed and near perfect weather greeted everyone’s eyes.

It was only a shame no one could enjoy it.

Everyone was at their post as they fought. Morrell had carried through like promised and had brought Peter, Blake, and Lycaon to Parrish’s home. 

Peter was almost done and so was Blake. 

The only thing to worry about was Lycaon.

Derek was in his wolf form, biting at Lycaon’s ankles and keeping him from attacking Kira. Chris assured Lycaon didn’t get too close to the adults in the circle. Each one concentrating aiming their spell at Kira’s blade while she held it overhead.

Stiles was doing his best to keep Lycaon from going too crazy. It appeared to be working. Each time, he was about to swipe at Derek. Stiles used his mountain ash like a vice and yanked Lycaon back down. Stiles was saving his energy for when Kira felt sufficiently powered up so he could take Lycaon to the ground. 

He glanced at the adults in the circle. 

The lightning was intense. He feared leaving Derek in the middle of it all, but in his wolf form Derek was more nimble and was able to avoid any stray sparks that came his way. Yet, Stiles could see why Noshiko found the need to voice her hesitation in this plan. The lightning was bright and hot. Lightning spells were more difficult than fire to control as lightning never came as a single stream of light. It broke apart and charred the grass. 

_ Just a bit more. _

Stiles could see it in Kira’s eyes.

But of course, nothing ever went according to plan.

Stiles’ eyes fell on Morrell. She looked around the circle and pulled her wand back. The lightning cracked around everyone as it struck the ground.

Kira, Derek, and the adults in the circle were blasted backwards. Morrell remained upright.

Everything stood still.

Stiles felt his breath quicken.

Morrell scanned the area before settling on Lycaon’s face.

She straightened her back and marched calmly toward him.

“You will obey me.” She said calmly.

Lycaon snorted. “I only listen to Peter Hale.”

Morrell glared at him and raised her voice. It was chilling in the quietness of the countryside. “You will obey me.”

“You think I will follow a human’s command?”

Allison understood before anyone. An arrow came flying toward Morrell. Morrell was quick. She raised her wand and the arrow flew by her and impaled on the ground a few feet away from her. She cast a rapid spell and Allison fell off the roof. Erica barely catched her on time. 

“You are forgetting that body belongs to me and it will obey me.”

Lycaon’s flashed red and his body convulsed. Morrell took another step forward and placed a hand on Lycaon’s chest. She repeated, “You will obey me.”

Lycaon fell to the ground and Peter who had been knocked out, woke with a gasp of pain. 

Stiles came to his senses, understanding  _ everything. _ It was Deucalion’s ashes who were thrown into the veil, so in all essence that was still Deucalion’s body. And the magic that ran between emissary and Alpha was still very much present between them. Deucalion’s pack had never taken away an emissary’s authority, the Deucalion Emissary still had power over werewolves. And that power was strong enough to break weak connection between Lycaon and Peter. 

As Lycaon got back to his feet and stood by Morrell’s side, Stiles ran toward them.

He felt his chest tighten and tears falling across his face. At the top of his lungs, he shouted, _ “I trusted you!” _

Morrell stared straight at him. She smiled sadly.  “I truly am sorry.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DO YOU UNDERSTAND I HAVE BEEN WAITING SINCE CHAPTER ONE TO REVEAL THAT PLOT TWIST. DEAR GOD! I THOUGHT I WOULD NEVER GET HERE!
> 
> Anyway, again I apologize for the cliff hanger. Everything that is everything will be explained next chapter. 
> 
> Please leave reviews! They would mean a lot to me especially since I've been waiting so long to reveal this to you all.


	63. Interlude: The Raven Among the Wolves Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morrell's childhood and years at Hogwarts.

As soon as Marin’s feet rooted to the ground and her head stopped spinning, she took a moment to examine the scenery. She should have felt confined with the amount of trees surrounding her on all sides, but all Marin could see was the way the branches clung to each other the same way she clung to her mother’s robes.

_ “Helena, good to see you.” _

A tall man jogged toward her mother. Marin gasped and tried to hide behind her mother. The man was scary: teeth sharp as thorns, and eyes shining red as blood. 

“Hello Alastair,” Marin’s mother replied.

The man chuckled when he looked at Marin’s face. “Dear Merlin, is this Marin? She’s so big.”

He leaned down and Marin could see his teeth more clearly. Marin didn’t like it. She buried her face in her mother’s robes, whimpering a little. 

“Marin,” Her mother chastised. “Be nice. I told you this was going to be your new family.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Alastair said. The animal features disappeared and all Marin could see was a handsome man in his fifties with dark hair and captivating dark brown eyes. “I’m assuming if she’s here, you got full custody of her?”

Her mother chuckled, “Yes. Took a few months but I finally got her. I think he was just fighting so hard because he lost custody of Alan too, that other woman of his is just as smart as me.”

“Alan?”

“The next in line for the Hale’s emissary.”

“Ah. Well, are you here because—”

“Yes,” Marin looked up to see her mother smile. “I am returning to my emissary duty and when my daughter comes of age, if she wishes, will be for your next in line.”

“That’s all I wanted to hear.” He leaned down so he was eye level with Marin. “What do you say? Do you want to be an emissary for my pack?” 

“It won’t be your pack, it would be someone else’s.”

Alastair bellowed loudly. “She’s bright. You told her what an emissary is?”

“I did. I haven’t explained to her the werewolf aspect.”

“Werewolves?” Marin spoke. “Are you a werewolf?”

Alastair changed appearances again. “What do you think?”

Marin bit her lip. She examined him closely, “You look scary.”

Alistair smiled. It startled her because of all those teeth. “I  _ am _ a scary creature.” He reached out and tickled her sides. Marin tried to hold in her laugh. “But I’m a scary creature that’s been blessed.”

Marin didn’t understand. She looked up at her mother and her mother took her hand. “He can change his appearance at will, Marin. Can you?”

“No.”

“Can a lot of wizards change their appearance?”

“You said with only powerful magic.”

“Exactly. But werewolves have this magic inside them. They are born with it.” 

“How?” Marin questioned, now curious about the strange thing in front of her.

“It was given to us.” Alastair answered. 

Marin tentatively reached out to Alastair’s face. Her small fingers took up his cheek. “Like a gift?” She asked. 

Alastair’s smile got bigger. “Yes, it’s like a gift.”

Marin smiled for the first time since she apparated there. “You only give gifts to nice people. Werewolves are nice!” 

Her mother squeezed her hand. “Yes, Marin. Werewolves are nice.”

Alastair stood straight. “Well I am glad we got through that quickly. Anyway... _ Alex! _ ” He shouted loudly. “ _ Alex! _ You two are nearly the same age. You should go play with him. Your mother has something she wants to show me. Ah, there he is!” 

Marin slowly turned around and saw the house for the first time. It was a giant cottage with a blue rooftop. It was imposing in size and blended with the forest around it. The trees hugged it on all sides and the shrubbery melded with the walls. From the blue door, a boy appeared. He was about her age, with a messy head of blond nearly brown hair. When he saw them, he sprinted to them far too quickly to be called normal. 

“Alex, why don’t you take Marin inside to play,” Alastair said. 

“Do I have to play with her?” He whined. 

_ “Alexandros.” _

“What? I don’t want to play. I was reading.”

Marin spoke softly, “I like reading.”

The boy’s eyes lit up when he heard her. He had beautiful blue eyes. 

“Awesome. How old are you!” He commanded.

“Seven.” Marin answered.

“I’m seven too!” Alex smiled. “C’mon.” He tugged on her sleeve.

“Go,” Her mother urged. 

Marin went slowly and the last thing she heard of the conversation was her mother telling Alastair, “So my mother gave me this ancient, empty book that I think might belong to the moon—” 

Marin was dragged upstairs to Alex’s room. Marin gaped at the amount of bookshelves lining his walls. “You have lots of books.”

“Yup! What do you like reading about?”

“Anything is fine,” Marin said, not wanting to impose. 

“Aw, c’mon!” Alex whined. “Do you like muggle books? Wizard ones? I’ve got both.”

“Which ones do you like?”

“I like muggle ones the best.”

“Then I want a muggle one.”

“Ok!” 

Marin watched him climb onto his bed and reach for a book over his pillows, “Since you are a girl, you can read this girl book. It’s about a witch.”

“I thought you said it was a muggle book.”

“It is.” 

He handed her the book and Marin read the title aloud, “Matilda.” She sat down on the bed when Alex patted the side next to her. She opened the book and began to read.

They stayed like that for several minutes, but after a while, Marin began to drift off. She placed her head on Alex’s shoulder but as soon as she touched him, she felt everything close off.

She could no longer breathe and her heartbeat increased. She wanted to cry. There was too much. She was starting to see so much. What was all of this?

She began to grasp whatever was near her and begged for it to be over.

Unknown to Marin, were the words falling from her lips. Her mother and several members of the Deucalion family hovered in the doorway, watching the scene between the two children.

Marin was clutching Alex’s arm tightly and speaking haunting words, “The greatest defender will carry the oppressed kingdom of his people to the heavens. His kingdom will unite the other unwelcome kingdoms under a reign stronger than anything ever witnessed. But the kingdom’s prosperity will meet society. It will burn. It will cry. It will suffer. It shall go to heaven with his aid.”

When Marin was finished, she began crying. She felt her mother’s arms wrapping around her and shushing her. She was picked up in her mother’s arms and carried outside. Her mother carried her deep into the forest and sat her down by a tree. Her mother left her for only a few seconds, but it was enough for Marin to begin screaming in worry.

“Marin, sweetie, shhh.” She heard her mother coo, when she returned. She took Marin’s small wrist in her large calloused hands. “Morrell’s are strong women. We don’t cry. Ok? We don’t cry.” Marin nodded and watched her mom tie a passion flower around her small wrist. The funny petals and strange colors calmed Marin. She stopped crying and clutched her wrist to her chest. 

“What was that mommy?”

“A vision.” Her mother stroked her hair. “You are so blessed sweetie.”

“Blessed with what?”

“You can see the future. It sometimes skips generations in our families. I was hoping you would get it. And you did. You are going to be a very powerful witch.”

“I can see the future?”

“Yes. And you tell the world of what’s going to happen.”

“I don’t remember saying anything.”

“People who possess true sight never do. You are only a vessel for it to come out of you.”

“What’s a vessel?”

“A very powerful body.”

“I have a powerful body?”

“Yes, you do.”

“So what was my vision about?”

“You told the story of a great man.”

Marin smiled, “I did?”

“Yes. A very very powerful man.” 

 

|~~***~~| 

 

“What are you doing?” Alex asked her.

Marin wiped the sweat off her brow and looked up at Alex. He was chewing an apple obnoxiously. She sighed. “I’m planting anemone flowers, mom says they protect against evil.” 

“Can I help?”

“Mommy said, I had to do it by myself.” Marin pouted. Her hands kneaded the mushy dirt. 

“Then can I watch?”

She stopped and sighed in annoyance this time. “Don’t you have training?”

“My dad is training Saladin and Mack right now.” He sat down beside her and watched her carefully. “I have a full day all to myself.”

“Lucky you.”

She wiped her hands on her robes as she grabbed the next batch of white anemones. It had been a few weeks since she moved into the Deucalion home. She had gotten to know everyone pretty well and especially Alex. She learned he had three brothers: Saladin, Richard and Mack, and out of the four of them, Alex was the youngest. His mother’s name was Clementine, but she passed away when Alex was born. Marin had felt so bad for him, but he had said not to be. She was a little confused when he had said this, because she had never voiced her sad thoughts aloud. But he had told her, he could smell the sadness on her. Marin thought it was an amazing gift that he could do something like that. Werewolves were amazing creatures.

The entire Deucalion family was. Along with Alex’s immediate family, his father’s four brothers lived with them too. And them four had their own share of kids running around the house. It was a lively place, filled with constant warmth and affection. 

When her mother wasn’t badgering on her to help with her herbology projects, she liked to sit and watch the werewolves train. They had an obstacle course they had to go through. Out of all the brothers and cousins, Alex was the worst at the obstacle course, but Marin never told him that. She liked to watch him lose his balance and fall into the fertilizer her mother and she planted there.

Dozing off, she nearly missed Alex’s question. “You know that thing a few weeks ago?” 

“What thing?” 

“You know that vision thing?”

“What about it?” Marin grew a little awkward. 

“I heard my dad and your mom talking about it.”

“What did they say?”

“They said the vision thing was about me.”

Marin chuckled, “No, it wasn’t, you liar!”

“Hey! I’m not lying! That’s what they really said!” Alex shouted loudly. 

His serious, angry face made Marin look at him pensively. “Really?”

“Yeah. They caught me before I could find out what your vision said and they cast silencing spells.”

“You were right there when I had it. How do you not know?”

“I was too busy trying not to attack you. You were holding me kind of hard.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

Alex didn’t hear her apology and instead shouted, “But I didn’t attack you! I’m not that kind of werewolf!”

“Kind? What other werewolves are there?” 

“The one that kills people.”

“There’s werewolves like that?”

“My brothers told me that’s what humans think of us. But we’re not!”

“I believe you,” Marin said confidently. She couldn’t see anyone in the Deucalion family doing something like that.  

“You do!”

“Yup!”

Alex grinned. “Thanks, so what did you see in your vision?”

“I don’t know.”

“But it was your vision.”

“Mommy said I will never remember them.”

“Oh. Then that means I will have to memorize them for you!” Alex picked up some dirt, “So you sure you don’t know what it’s about?”

“Nope.” Marin lied. Although, she did not remember the vision her mother had told her it was about a very powerful man and if Alex was right and it was about him, she didn’t want to spoil it. 

“I can tell you’re lying!”

“Am not!”

“You’re lying again!”

“No I’m not!” Marin said, raising her voice.

“Lying! Lying!”

“I’m not!” Marin picked up the dirt and threw it at him. Alex dodged it. 

“Yeah? So why is your heart beating so fast, huh?”

“No it isn’t!” 

“Yeah, it is!”

Marin’s voice grew softer. “You can hear it?”

“Yup.”

“That’s kind of cool.” She smiled and then got up, “I’m still not telling.” She ran back into the house, laughing.

 

|~~***~~| 

 

“Mom! What do you mean I have to go on a conference with you?!” Marin shouted loudly. 

“Because I told you, part of being an emissary is having a specialty.” Her mother said much more calmly. She maneuvered around her daughter as she flicked her wand to pack her things. “The most reasonable ones for emissaries to have is either in potions or herbology and since our family has been dealing with herbs for centuries, you are going to learn as well. So go pack your things. Pack light.”

“Does that mean we are coming back soon?”

“No, I’ll buy you more clothes when we get there.”

Marin pouted and jumped on her mother’s bed. “How long is it going to last?”

“The conference lasts four years.”

“Four years!” Marin shrieked. “I don’t wanna go!” 

“Marin, don’t raise your voice.” 

“But I don’t wanna go!” She stomped her feet petulantly. 

“I’m sorry, sweetie, but you are going whether you like it or not.”

Marin crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. She knew she didn’t have much of a choice, but she wasn’t going to be happy about it. Her mother threw some of her clothes in a trunk. “Just be grateful, it’s not like the last Herbology convention. That one lasted seven years. Shame I couldn’t go though. Romilda Merlot had given a splending panel.” 

“But mom!” Marin still tried, “I just got here! We can’t leave. What about emissary training?”

“We will have it in Estonia where the conference will be held.”

_ “Mooooom.” _

“Hey, Marin listen to me.” Her mother stopped packing and gripped Marin’s shoulder, “You like these Deucalion boys don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“And you said you wanted to be a good emissary for them, right?”

“Uh huh.”

“Well you are going to have to listen to me. This will make you a very strong emissary, okay? It will teach you about ways you can protect your pack; don’t you want to do that?”

Marin looked away from her mother. “I guess.”

Her mother shook her. “No, sweetie. You can’t just guess this. Do you wanna do this or not?”

Marin bit her lip and nodded fiercely. “Yes.”

“Good.” Her mother loosened her grip, “I’m going to teach you the first rule of being an emissary okay? Right now.” Marin stood straighter. “You have to keep full control of your emotions at all times. You can’t show you are angry or sad or upset.”

“What about happy?”

“That’s for you to decide, but no bad emotions can be let out of this heart.”

“Why?”

“A strong Alpha needs a strong emissary.”

“You think I can be a strong emissary?”

“Not now you can’t, but I can train you to be. You are capable of so much Marin, I know you. You are such a good child.”

“What else are you going to teach me?”

“Great things. How to control your heartbeat, which means lying to werewolves.”

“Why would I need to do that? I don’t want to lie to them.”

“Sometimes you need to lie to other werewolves who are not part of your pack. But don’t focus on that. That will come later, I will teach you some herbs that can negate wolfsbane, I will teach you about the life in mountain ash. Everything Marin.”

“I’m going to learn all of this in four years?”

“Some of it yes. You will be training with me until the next Alpha but by then you will have learned all you need to. So what do you say, wanna start packing your things?”

“Okay.” 

“Good, pack only what you are gonna miss.”

Marin nodded, heading to her room. She packed quickly as ordered. She emerged an hour later with her mother on the front yard, trunks by their feet.

“Alright, we will be going now,” Her mother told Alastair. 

He was standing there with his two eldest sons.  “When will you return, Helena?” Alastair asked.

“In the summer before Marin and Alex start their first year at Hogwarts. It gives Marin enough time to enjoy her break too.” 

“Well, keep in touch. Send us owls, floo when you have the time.”

“Of course,” Her mother said, grasping her hand. “Ready?”

She nodded, squeezing her mother’s calloused hand. Her mother readied her wand to apparate, but a small voice stopped them,

“Marin, wait!” Alex shouted. She saw him running from the backyard. He stopped in front of Marin. “Take this.” She took the small white anemone flower he handed her. “You were planting them last week. You should take it to protect you.”

“You’re giving me something I planted?” 

“Yeah.”

Marin’s mother nudged her shoulder, so Marin was forced to say, “Thank you?”

“No problem. See you when you come back!” 

Marin smiled, “See you.”

 

|~~***~~| 

 

The forest hadn’t changed when Marin returned. She let go of her mother’s hand and breathed in the smell of pine. While she had been surrounded by woods in Estonia, something about the trees always felt hollow.

Her eyes scanned the house. A small smile appeared on her face. Still the same.

She heard a twig snap behind her and then saw a boy running toward her. Marin did not flinch as he suddenly appeared in front of her.

“Marin?”

“Alexandros.” Morrell answered formally. 

He broke into a large smile, “You’re back.”

“I’m back.” Marin replied.

Marin turned to her mother who leaned down and hugged Alex. “Look at you, you’ve gotten so big!”

“All that training,” Alex replied. “C’mon everyone is in the house.” He tugged on Marin’s sleeve.

Marin looked at his hand curiously, “Okay.”

 

|~~***~~| 

 

Marin was sitting outside by one of the trees with a notebook and a jar of different plants. Her mother had asked her to categorize them and Marin decided to do it outside than in the house. The sounds of grunting were around her but Marin didn’t even bother to look at them once, not even when Alex fell by her feet. She heard him get up and return back to his fight with his elder brothers.

However, she did flinch when Alex fell again a few minutes later—right on top of the jars. The glass shattered and Marin’s eyes opened wide as the plants were crushed under Alex’s weight. She wanted to scream and shove him off, but she knew that was not appropriate.

Her mother had taught her better.

Instead, Marin sighed. She stood up calmly, “Alexandros,” She said firmly.

He frowned, “I hate when you say my name like that.” He got up and brushed off the dirt.

Marin’s attention went to the right as Alex’s three brothers approached.

“She got that emissary gene right in her. Face it. She’s gonna order you around.” 

“No she isn’t!” Alex cried. “Marin is my friend.”

Which wasn’t a lie. Only a few days back and she and Alex had bonded as easily as they had when they were seven. And to prove Alex’s point, Marin stepped near him and began to pick out the plant he had crushed from the back of his robes. She dusted him off. 

Mack snickered. “Sorry, Marin about the plants. We are trying to train Alex here. But he’s not getting it.”

“So I’ve noticed.”

Alex sent her a glare. “Not my fault.”

“Isn’t it though?” Marin asked him. “You spend all your time reading instead of training.”

“I’m just getting ready for Hogwarts. You have to be prepared.”

“We already told you not to worry,” Richard shoved him. “Do you see us worrying?” He grabbed Saladin. “We are in NEWT classes and we aren’t acting crazy trying to read everything in Dad’s library.”

Mack chuckled, “Aren’t you both failing?”

Marin and Alex both snorted. 

Richard shoved Mack. “Shut up. Just wait till fifth year next year and we’ll see who's failing!” He glanced back at Alex. “Ready to go back to training?”

Alex sighed, “I guess.”

Saladin ruffled his brother’s hair. 

“Hey Marin,” Mack spoke up. “Wanna join us?”

“In what?”

“Learning how to fight.”

“Umm…” Marin frowned. “I’m supposed to be sticking to my studies. Mom wants me to categorize these before dinner.” 

“C’mon. You had to endure four years of that crap, do something fun and for yourself at least once.”

Marin hesitantly looked to the house, expecting her mother to be shaking her head outside one of the windows. But she saw no one there, and instead grinned. 

“I’ll be happy to train,” she giggled. 

 

|~~***~~| 

 

Marin looked around the Great Hall in awe as they were directed to the front to be sorted. She wasn’t that worried where she was going to be placed, but she sensed that Alex was overly tense beside her. She nudged him as the professor began to call out names. 

“Are you okay?” She asked him.

Alex leaned in close and answered in a barely audible whisper, “My brothers said there were other werewolves but I didn’t think there would be so many.” 

“How many are there?”

“I can smell five others.”

Marin glanced over her shoulder thinking she would be able to see them, but all she could see was a sea of students. She had been informed as well there would be werewolves at Hogwarts from three different packs and she was taught to be wary of them. Sometimes other packs had their own agendas. 

_ “Morrell, Marin.” _

Marin flinched at the sudden call of her name. She pushed by Alex and made her way to the stool. The hat hadn’t even been on her before it cried out,  _ “Hufflepuff!”  _

Marin smiled and made her way over to the table. She watched the rest of the students get sorted and when Alex’s name was called, Marin watched the strange scene unfold. Alex’s face was scrunched. She had only seen that face before when Alex argued with his brothers and father.

A full minute passed in silence. Students were getting antsy. Marin’s eyes went to the Gryffindor table and saw Richard and Mack staring at their youngest brother in worry. 

But suddenly, _ “Hufflepuff!” _ The hat cried. 

The Hufflepuff table politely cheered, but Marin sensed something was off when Alex sat beside her. “What the hell was that?” Marin asked him when the ceremony was over and students began to eat with rambunctious conversation.

“I just told the hat I really wanted to be here.” 

“What?”

He leaned in to whisper, “The hat wanted to put me in Ravenclaw but I asked it to put me here.” 

“Why?” 

Alex glanced across the table. Marin followed his eyesight and saw a redheaded fourteen year old girl with blue-green eyes. She was staring at them and when she noticed she was caught, she returned to her conversation with friends. 

Marin and Alex shared a look. She understood what Alex had done without him voicing it. The redheaded girl was a werewolf and Alex had followed her into the house to keep her safe. Marin felt a little guilty, knowing that Alex would have flourished and done great things in Ravenclaw, but a part of her was also satisfied that Alex was willing to go to such measures to keep the pack safe. 

 

|~~***~~| 

 

Marin did her best to avoid the other werewolves at Hogwarts and instead stick with Alex and his brothers. Saladin had approached her and told her the names of all the werewolves at Hogwarts so she could be careful around them. There was the Hale pack: Peter, a second year Slytherin; Talia, a third year Gryffindor; and Sandra, a fourth year Ravenclaw—and while Sandra was not a werewolf, they told her to still keep away. Then there were the Taltons: Lucas, a third year Gryffindor; and Cersei, a fourth year Hufflepuff. And last all by himself was Ennis O’Brien, a third year Gryffindor. 

She was actually surprised on how well she was able to maintain a distance. Although, it seemed that the others were doing the same to not get near each other either. 

However, avoidance came to an end at the end of Marin’s first year.

Alex and his brothers were feeling antsy and wanted to go run during the full moon. Usually, Marin went with them to the Shrieking Shack to keep them safe, but she understood they couldn’t be cooped up forever. Mack was the one to suggest it, so Marin joined them. She gripped tightly onto Saladin’s neck as he ran into the Forbidden Forest. 

She was laughing in joy and watching Alex run up ahead with Richard. Alex flipped off a branch and pushed Richard into the stream. Mack stopped to laugh and soon everyone had fallen into the stream.

Marin squealed, trying to get out, but Alex held onto her ankles and dragged her back down.

She laughed between pants, “Alex, stop,” She weakly kicked at him. Alex laughed harder and grabbed the muddy dirt and smeared into her face.

Marin gasped in shock and took a handful herself. She threw it right at Alex—and missed. It hit Saladin in the back of the head. The five of them got into a heated and messy battle.

Their laughter filled the forest and Marin for once let go of her inhibition and yelped and yelled when any of the boys caught her. She started running from them, knowing that with the mud covering her body her scent would be harder to find.

The three boys gave chase and enjoyed an impromptu game of hide and seek. Marin giggled as quietly as she could. She rushed from tree to tree, hiding in the shadows of the full moon overhead.

She heard a twig snap and saw Alex nearing. She tried to be quieter and moved to another tree. Leaves crunched behind her and Marin was prepared to squeal at being caught but instead a screamed escaped her lips as she was suddenly pinned to the ground. 

She heard rapid footsteps and then the Deucalion brothers growl at whatever was on top of her.

Saladin stomped forward and his impending size caused the creature above her to climb off.

Richard grabbed her arm and hid her behind them. Alex made sure she was okay.

And when Marin finally looked forward she saw Peter Hale in his werewolf form growling back at the werewolves. 

“Peter, enough!” She heard someone growl.

The brothers continued their protective stance as they saw three other people running toward them. 

Marin recognized them as Talia, Sandra, and her half-brother Alan.

But Peter did not back down, he continued growling. Sandra and Talia both screamed Peter’s name. Peter returned to his human form and sent a glare at his sisters.

“Let’s go,” Sandra said, guiding her brother away.

“Hey!” Mack shouted at them. “If you can’t control him during a full moon, don’t take him out for a run.”

She saw yellow eyes glow in the dark. Talia approached them and snarled, “Keep your human close and we wouldn’t have to deal with this.” 

Marin puffed out her chest and stepped past the Deucalion boys. She knew her mother would want her to stand strong. Instead of heading toward Talia like they thought she would, she marched straight toward Alan.

“You’ve been neglecting your duties. The reason he attacked me is your fault.”

“Hey, don’t blame him!” Sandra shouted.

“I should. He’s your emissary.”

Talia stood straight, “How do you know that?”

“Because she’s my sister,” Alan replied.

“Half.” Marin corrected. She hadn’t really told anyone they were related. It wasn’t very much known and she didn’t find the need to interact with him. They had only met each other two times before this and because they had grown up with different mothers they didn’t see the need to try to establish a sibling bond. They were content in their separation and because they were of two different packs, they had silently agreed at the start of the year to keep a distance as well. Marin glanced down at Alan. “Where is your bag of mountain ash? You’re supposed to be carrying it in case something like this happens.”

“Mountain ash is barbaric.”

“No, it’s a precaution. And why haven’t you helped him gain control during the full moon?”

“Peter’s only twelve,” Sandra spoke.

Marin eyed Sandra up and down and calmly stated, “Alexandros is a year younger and has had full control since he was eight.” She looked back at Alan,  _ “Don’t make excuses.”  _

Sandra as the eldest scoffed and ordered her pack to leave. When they were sufficiently away all three Deucalion boys embraced her and cheered. 

Alex whispered in her ear, “You’re going to be the coolest emissary.” 

 

|~~***~~| 

 

“Give it up, Morrell! You’re done!”

“Are we resorting to cheap banter, Deucalion?”

Marin heard two boys snicker behind her. She then saw an opening on Alex’s side and kicked him harshly. He fell to the ground in a stupor and the game switched to Marin’s favor. Fighting with Alex was always a pleasure. He always held the right amount of werewolf strength back but never wavered in technique. Still, Morrell was a better fighter and she was damn proud she was. However, Alex surprised her that day.

He got to his feet swiftly and began to deliver punches. Marin dodged each one and in the distraction, Alex brought a leg up and jabbed his knee in Marin’s gut.

She coughed out in pain and fell to her knees.

“Alex!” She heard Mack shout. He rushed toward Marin, but Marin stood, assuring them she was fine.

“You’re lucky Saladin isn’t here.” Richard spoke, glaring at Alex. “He would have kicked your ass for hurting her.”

Alex huffed out, “It’s not like she can’t take care of herself.”

Marin sent him a thankful smile and reached out for her water bottle as she watched Mack and Richard chewing Alex out to be more careful with her. Marin rolled her eyes at them. 

She was excited to be back for her second year at Hogwarts mainly because she was allowed to train with the boys. Back home, her mother chastised her for training with werewolves. It wasn’t that she believed she couldn’t train as hard as they could, but her mother wanted her devoted completely to her emissary duties. And Marin was, but she did not see why she couldn’t do things for herself too. Mack and Alex and encouraged it when she first started, but when Mack had seen that bruises and cuts did not heal as quickly as werewolves’ did, he seemed more hesitant in letting her join them.

Alex was now the only one condoning her behavior. He was able to successfully convince Richard and Mack to continue training, although she knew that if Saladin hadn’t graduated last year, the task would be near impossible.

“Stop behaving like I’m going to break,” Marin spoke over them.

“But you can,” Richard admonished. “You’re human Marin, please don’t forget that.”

 

|~~***~~| 

 

“Are you reading Joyce again?” Marin teased Alex in the library. “You’re gonna fail your History final if you keep that up.”

“But it’s Joyce,” Alex whined, putting the book down to give Marin his undivided attention. “He’s an amazing muggle modernist writer. Wizard ones can only dream to convey language the way he does.”

“His language is pretentious,” Marin said, reaching for her DADA book in her bag. 

“How dare you? Take that back.”

“Mmmm, no.”

“You haven’t even read James Joyce.”

“I have remember, you made me read Ulysses last summer because you wanted someone to cry with.”

“And I still can’t believe you didn’t.”

“I told you, I think he’s pretentious. Now, Fitzgerald on the other hand,” Marin began with a dreamy look on her eye. “Muggleborn wizard gone broke and catches the eye of the famous pureblood Zelda and ends up convincing an entire nation that he’s a muggle to write the best novel of all time. I mean the killing curse symbolism in that green light is beautiful, unlike Joyce who spends two pages in poor stream of consciousness using a sky as a focal point.” 

“Fitzgerald was a cheat who had a warped view on women, you can’t argue with me on that.”

“Okay, he did, but he’s still a better writer.”

“Joyce has the better message.”

“And what would that be?”

“To break off all ties. He didn’t believe in mass organization of religion or of government. He believed in the unity of the self.”

Marin grew quiet and squeezed Alex’s hand on the table. “Is this about organization of a pack?”

Alex yanked his hand away. “No.”

“Alexandros.” She said calmly, knowing that Alex could not refuse her when she took on that tone.

“Call me crazy but I don’t believe in pack.” Marin’s eyes grew wide in disbelief. “No, not like that! I mean. I think having all these different packs are ridiculous. I don’t understand why we can’t all just unite as one.” He leaned into Marin’s personal space. “Can you imagine all werewolves coming together as one? Can you imagine what we could accomplish?”

Marin licked her lips, “Alexan—”

“Listen to me, I know it’s crazy, but think about it. The reason I like Joyce so much is because he hates mass organization of anything because it's not unified. Within a single organization everyone has different beliefs on moral platforms, religious practices, even democracy. That’s how we werewolves are right now. We all want to survive and want equal rights but we all have different ways of trying to go about it. That’s why each pack has a different insignia. But imagine we put away all those distracting ideologies and instead focus on each other and unify as one being instead of multiple ones within the same organization, our options and rights would be limitless. We could be great!”

Marin reached out to brush away Alex’s bangs, “I’m assuming this train of thought came up because Mack just turned seventeen.”

Alex leaned into her touch. “Yeah. He’s in his last year and when he graduates everyone is going to be waiting for me to graduate to announce the new Alpha.”

“Do you not want to be the next Alpha?”

Alex looked into Marin’s eyes earnestly, “I don’t know.”

_ “Hey, you two!”  _ Marin pulled away slowly as she saw Mack sit at their table across from them. “Stop making out and help me on this Herbology essay.” 

“We weren’t making out,” Alex scowled.

Mack looked around the area and laughed, “Alex. You’re in the Advanced Ancient Runes section of the library with an extremely pretty girl. No one comes back here unless they want to cop a feel during a study session.” 

“And how would you know that?” Marin asked calmly, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in the company of another girl to figure out what this area is for.”

Alex laughed aloud. Mack sent her a glare, “Nice Marin, you’re lucky I can’t stay mad at you.”

She rolled her eyes and leaned forward on the desk, “What do you need help on?”

He handed her his essay prompt and a stack of books. She read it over and chuckled, handing the assignment back to him, “Well first of all, you have the wrong research books.”

“What?” He hollered in disbelief.

Marin grabbed her quill and scribbled a few books she knew could help him. “Go check those out and I’ll help you.”

Mack nodded and left his things there to go find his books across the library.

Marin snorted and went back to reading her book, but she noticed in the corner of the eye that Alex hadn’t picked up his Joyce book again. He was just staring at her with his mouth slightly parted.

“What?” She asked.

Without any shame or embarrassment, Alex replied, “I just hadn’t noticed how pretty you really are until Mack mentioned it.” 

Marin flushed and turned back to her book, flipping through the pages to give her hands something to do. She took a deep breath and controlled her heartbeat like her mother showed her. “I don’t know if your late notice of it is a compliment or not.” 

“It’s a compliment. I’m usually just always trying to keep up with what you say to have paid attention.” 

Marin looked at Alex. At fourteen, Alex was already starting to loose his boyish charm. His jaw was sharper, his hair more tousled, and his blue gaze more intense. Marin coughed, “The sentiment is mutual.”

She heard a warm laugh beside her and Marin released her own chuckle. They returned to their work without missing a step. 

 

|~~***~~| 

 

Marin felt sweat collect at the back of her neck as she dodged one of Alex’s kicks. She danced around him and grabbed the back of his collar. He slipped out of her grasp and the two continued to fight. She heard Mack call the time and both of them stepped away from each other taking deep breaths.

“Nice, Marin,” Mack complimented. “Getting better each day.”

“Thanks. I have your Dad to thank for that. He trained me in secret during the summer.”

“He did!” Alex whined. “Dad doesn’t give us personalized training!”

“Because she isn’t going to be the Alpha, Alex,” Mack chuckled.

_ “Really, she has the potential to be.”  _

All three of their heads snapped to the voice. They saw Peter Hale standing over a boulder. He grinned and headed toward them.

“Mind if I join?” Peter asked.

“Deucalion pack only, sorry,” Mack said sardonically.

“I understand,” Peter replied. He looked at Alex. “We haven’t properly introduced ourselves. My name is Peter Hale.” He extended his hand toward Alex and Alex did not take it. He awkwardly lowered his hand. “Ah, of course. Pack rivalries and differences.”

“What do you mean by that?” Alex suddenly asked.

“That our differences set us apart, that is all.”

Alex extended his hand, “My name is Alexandros Deucalion. I go by Alex.”

Peter genuinely smiled and shook his hand.

“Alex,” Mack whispered, “What are you doing?”

“Making a friend.”

Marin thought over the situation quickly and decided to extend her own hand in greeting, “Marin Morrell.”

Peter returned the greeting.

“Well, now that we got that out of the way, can I train with you? It gets boring training with my sisters all the time.”

“Of course,” Alex smiled. “With me of course, I don’t want Marin scaring you away.”

Marin chuckled and took a seat by their discarded bags and scarves. 

“Alex,” Mack chastised. “You can’t do this.”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

Marin spoke up and in a level-headed voice, “Mack, I think we should see where this goes. There is no harm in training with Peter.”

“It is when we don’t have an alliance with their pack.”

Marin smiled softly, “Well, Alan is my brother, which means there is an alliance between us. Alan is the Hale emissary, ergo…”

“Marin, don’t,” Mack tried again. “I’ve let you train with us against your mother’s wishes. Don’t make me go against my father’s.”

“I’m not. But I believe it would be wise to perhaps foster a camaraderie with the Hales. Wouldn’t you want that? You have the potential of being the Alpha, and as a future Alpha, and I as the future emissary, believe that strengthening our ties would strengthen our pack.”

Mack got quiet. “This doesn’t get back to Dad, you hear me? And you!” He told Peter, “Don’t let this get to anyone else.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Peter spoke seriously. “I’m here against my sister’s wishes as well. But like Marin has stated I believe this could benefit us in the future.”

Alex laughed and Marin hid her smile, knowing why Alex was so happy. He had found someone to share his sentiment about pack dynamics. “I like you. I like you a lot.” Alex told Peter.

Peter bit his lip and winked, “Sorry, you’re not my type.”

Alex laughed again and in agreement they began to fight. Mack sat beside Marin and Marin grasped his shoulder, easing his worry. 

The weeks continued with Mack and Alex training with Peter in secret. Marin wanted her go with Peter, but that’s where Mack and even Alex set their foot down. Marin wanted to lash out and say she could hold her own against any werewolf, but instead she collected herself and let the situation be. She understood their worry. While Peter, was proving to be a real companion and perhaps even friend, his control was still questionable around humans.

However, their secret training did not last. Brashly, the three boys decided to push their limits. Against Marin’s judgment, they went to go train in the Forbidden Forest during a full moon. Marin went with them, carrying this time a larger bag of mountain ash in case tensions rose.

Mack and Alex were twitchy at the thought of fighting with Peter without any control and so was Peter. When the three of them clashed, Marin was awed at their display of power.

Mack was all strength, pushing against his brother and Peter without any concern of his body. Peter still maintained some of his wits and was able to trick the brothers to fight against each other. Alex was all quick movements and instinct driven decisions that were actually proving to be more effective attacks than anything the two older teens could deliver. 

Marin was impressed and although she would never admit it, she was a little turned on at his display of strength.

Her musings distracted her from her surroundings. Before she could react, she saw Talia flying across the forest and into Mack, pulling him away from Peter.

The two began to fight. Peter tried to pull his sister off, but then she saw Ennis, Lucas, and Cersei appear and join the fight. This time no one was holding anything back.

Marin gasped. She collected her fear and used it to fuel her next course of action. She grabbed her bag of mountain ash and began to draw a circle around her. 

“Marin!” She heard someone shout. She looked up for a second and saw Alan running along with Sandra. 

Marin yelled back, “Get in the circle.”

They complied as the fighting got worse. Marin took out her wand and cut a clean line into her forearm. Her brother screamed at her, but Marin did not fret.

The blood was a strong deterrent for the werewolves to stop fighting. She had been taught by her mother that when a werewolf was ever out of control and that werewolf smelled a human, that werewolf would be nearly impossible to stop.

Just as planned, all the werewolves charged at her, but because of the barrier, they all blasted backwards.

The knock to their heads against the trees or ground made all of them groan in pain and return to their senses. Almost as one, the yellow of their eyes dimmed and returned to their normal eye color. 

“Marin!” Alex rushed toward her first in concern. “I’m sorry!”

“It’s fine,” She said stepping out of the circle. 

Alex embraced her and Marin tensed as Alex began to scent her. She had seen Alex and his brothers do this countless of times, but she had never been part of the activity. Alex was pulled away from her as Talia yanked him back.

“What were you doing attacking my brother?!” Talia demanded.

“Now sister wait,” Peter began. “We weren’t fighting,” He stopped to chuckle, “Okay, not that kind of fighting, we were just training.”

Talia’s anger was directed at the youngest Hale. “Training? Is that why you’ve been getting better?

“Possibly.”

“I can’t believe you! Training with another pack! Dad will have your head.”

Marin ignored the siblings’ argument as soon as Sandra joined in to gang up on Peter. She got closer to Alex and Mack when she saw Ennis, Lucas, and Cersei get to their feet.

She hardly conversed with them and didn’t know what reaction they would give after being hit by mountain ash. 

But thankfully, they didn’t react at all. They seem more confused than anything. 

Marin let go of Alex’s arm and immediately regretted it. She felt as if someone had punched her in the throat and had blindfolded her. 

She fell to her knees and without any consent, words that she did not know she was speaking, tumbled out of her lips without her consent, “The greatest defender will carry the oppressed kingdom of his people to the heavens. His kingdom will unite the other unwelcome kingdoms under a reign stronger than anything ever witnessed. But the kingdom’s prosperity will meet society. It will burn. It will cry. It will suffer. It shall go to heaven with his aid.”

When air returned to her lungs everything had gone quiet in the forest. She was warm too. She leaned against it and realized Alex had scooped her into his lap. 

“What the hell was that?” Ennis spoke, breaking the silence.

“A vision,” Mack spoke beside her, stroking her hair beside them. “She has the sight.”

“What did I say?” Marin whispered, despite she knew the werewolves could hear. 

“I’ll tell you later,” Alex whispered into her ear. 

 

|~~***~~| 

 

After the winter break, no one had any doubt what Marin’s vision had implied. Simply, it was unity. Because of it, somehow all of them started grouping together. It started off with greetings in the Great Hall or in the hallways. It then transformed into random conversations in the hallway and evolved into the ten of them studying together in the library. And lastly, it all came together with them finding a special room on the seventh floor to train together.

Alan, Peter, and Alex were the biggest supporters of this newfound unity. The most hesitant were Talia and Mack but even they could not deny the warmth that filled them each time they spent hours together. Marin amused her brother and began to call their little get together an army and revolution as well. 

None of them had spoken to their Alphas about this. They all knew they were committing treason, but it was hard to resist.

Marin could see it most in Alex. Once she caught Alex, Lucas, Mack, and Peter scenting each other one lazy afternoon in the Room of Requirement. All of them were embarrassed when Marin had seen them lying on the floor in such an embrace, but Marin had found the scene quite lovely. 

She teased Alex about it and Alex wouldn’t speak to her for a week after that. But Marin was fine, she spent it with Talia and Cersei. Talia was a great companion and very bright. Cersei was a complete bundle of joy that Marin was not accustomed to seeing as she had been surrounded by boys nearly all her time in Hogwarts. But she loved it, and regretted not spending more time with her fellow Hufflepuff.

Gradually, Marin began to notice the way the school looked at them. She saw now that they all ate together during meal times, they drew a lot of attention. People were intrigued by their close friendship and Marin couldn’t help but smirk as some people were jealous by it. 

It was almost as if Alex’s dream had come true. They had dropped their allegiances and became one single unified entity. 

They felt a sad break in their unification when Mack, Cersei, and Sandra had graduated and then the following year when Talia, Ennis, and Lucas did as well. They had realized then that when they all left Hogwarts they would have to carry the facade of pack rivalry. They did their best though to cherish their time together.

Marin, Alex, Peter, and Alan, carried themselves strong. 

 

|~~***~~| 

 

“I’m gonna die alone with no husband,” Peter cried out. 

Marin saved her inkpot before Peter could dramatically fall on top of it. 

“You will, if you keep having that attitude,” Alex replied. 

The three of them were in Alex’s room. His roommates were gone and they were focusing instead on classwork. NEWT classes were the worst. 

“But let me guess, Nathaniel?” Alex asked, humoring his friend.

“He keeps making out with Kayla!” Peter gagged. “I can see it now. They are gonna get married have two beautiful children and I’m gonna live all alone in the Hale house.” 

“Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?” Marin asked, putting her Charms book to the side, knowing that if Peter was here nothing was going to get done. 

“Tell him how I feel? Marin, did a troll knock out your brain? I can’t do that. He’s obviously in love with Kayla and I don’t wanna be a homewrecker. Although, home wrecker is a nice title of power to carry. And everyone would know I’m the superior being to Kayla’s huge knockers.”

Alex put his Joyce book to the side, obviously not doing any homework, “I thought the obstacle was you were a werewolf and not Kayla. You can’t actually think Kayla is competition?”

“Oh yeah, that too,” Peter sighed, burying his face in Alex’s pillow. “Why couldn’t I have fallen in love with handsome werewolves like my sisters?”

“Speaking of your sisters’ happy love lives, when is Talia’s and Lucas’ wedding again?” Alex asked, falling on top of Peter. He began to scent his neck and Marin rolled her eyes at their affection.

“They don’t wanna get married until after the Alpha is announced.”

“Oh yeah,” Marin piped in, “That’s coming up after you graduate, right? How are you feeling?”

Peter shrugged, “Confident? Assured? Fantastic?”

Alex slapped Peter’s ass hard, “Shut up, you prick.”

Marin laughed. “I feel bad for my brother having to make that decision.”

“Well, you have to too, don’t you, for your pack?” Peter asked. He rolled over and Alex fell beside him on the bed. 

“Yeah, but my decision making is easier. I just see who comes out the winner when the four of them fight. Alan’s decision has more factors to consider. Speaking of Alan, who wants to bother him?”

Alex and Peter both shot up in agreement.

None of them bothered taking their bags or books, knowing that they were going to shock Alan out of his zombie study state and head straight to the Great Hall for lunch. 

They made their way to the library, but out of everyone’s surprise, Peter’s clothes suddenly vanished. The hallway bursted with laughter.

Marin chuckled into Alex’s shoulder, admiring Peter’s choice in underwear.

“I didn’t know you were a fan of the Holyhead Harpies,” Marin said, very much amused.

Peter’s face was completely red as he scanned the hallway for the culprit. His eyes opened wide and began to march down the hallway.  

Marin and Alex followed him. They saw he was cornering a small first year Gryffindor. She had brown hair falling to her waist and had a face covered in moles. She was giggling loudly, obviously not taking Peter seriously.

“Hey, you little punk!” Peter shouted at her.

The girl kept giggling, “May I help you?” She asked.

Peter gripped her wand hand tightly, “Bring my clothes back. That was Jonathan Pegasus imported!”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” She laughed again. 

_ “Claudia!” _

The girl glanced at the crowd of first years, who called her name. She struggled to get out of Peter’s grip, but then suddenly Alex and Peter started coughing and retching. Marin patted Alex’s back in comfort, very much confused.

The girl took that moment to sneak away, “Coming John!” She cried out. 

When she left, Peter and Alex sucked in a breath of air. 

“What was that?” Marin questioned curiously.

“That girl reeked.” Alex gasped out.

“Alexandros.”

“No, I’m being serious. It was worse than your mom’s special fertilizer.”

“Maybe she cast a spell?” Marin asked.

“No,” Peter coughed one last time, “It was like the smell was coming within her but the weird thing was that it happened suddenly.”

_ “Is there a reason you are standing nearly naked in the middle of the hallway?”  _

They all turned to Alan, who was standing behind them.

Peter stood straight, “It’s the new trend.”

Alan decided the safest option was to agree, “Alright, I’m sure Nathaniel will appreciate it.”

“Will he really?” Peter asked, smoothing his underwear.

The three of them rolled their eyes, “C’mon lover boy,” Alex groaned, throwing an arm over Peter and heading toward the Great Hall. 

 

|~~***~~| 

 

Marin’s back was against the tree as she stared at the sunset. Alex was beside her reading Joyce as usual, while she worked on a Transfiguration essay. The day was quiet much like the year. Everyone had graduated and it was only them, their own graduation in just a few weeks as well. 

It was the most either had spent together on their own. But neither was complaining. Despite they weren’t together, they liked to hold hands in the hallways, hug each other around the waist, and whisper stories in each other’s ears.

Marin questioned whether she wanted to break the illusion of it all and make it into a reality. But she feared, she would ruin something great. She knew Alex felt the same way. Sometimes, he would stare too long at her lips, his fingers would linger in her hair, and the way he spoke her name said it all.

Marin sighed, and set her book to the side. She leaned forward and plucked a white anemone from the bed surrounding them. She held it to sky admiring its purity. Her fingers grazed the petal softly and felt the life within it.

She felt Alex lean his head against her shoulder, staring at the flower as well.

“Do you remember?” Alex asked, breaking the silence. “The day I gave you one?”

Marin chuckled and dropped her head against Alex’s. “You plucked my hard work.”

Alex smiled and brought his hand to hers. He lowered her hand to his lap and cradled it. He continued looking at the sky, “I was seven.”

Marin hummed. She shut her eyes and held onto his hand. She was ready to take a small nap against Alex, but Alex voice kept her wide awake.

“The day and the scene harmonised in a chord. Words. Was it their colors? He allowed them to glow and fade, hu e after hue: sunrise gold, the russet and green of apple orchards, azure of waves, the grey fringed fleece of clouds. No, it was not their colors: it was the poise and balance of the period itself.”

Marin smiled, “Are you quoting Joyce?”

“Yes.”

“I think I actually like that one.”

Alex squeezed her hand. “Do you know what it means?”

Marin shook her head. 

Alex pushed off the tree and twisted his body to face Marin. He smiled and cradled her cheek, “It means, appreciate the moment.”

His lips fell on hers.

_ Oh. _

And forever that day was imprinted on her as a day of dappled seaborne clouds. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this was only meant to be one chapter but instead it’s going to be split into parts because I think out of every character I've written, Morrell has been the most complicated and I feel like all of you need to truly understand why she betrayed the pack. (And need to understand why she is my favorite character). 
> 
> Hope you are enjoying this small interlude from all the drama that I’ve been giving you lately. 
> 
> The last few lines are from James Joyce’s A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man--a difficult read, but one I recommend.


	64. Interlude: The Raven Among the Wolves Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marin and her time between her leave of Hogwarts and her evident return.

Marin’s back was pressed comfortably against the wooden panel of the house as Alex encased her in his arms. Their lips were moving softly against each other. She could hear children in the background, Mack yelling at his eldest brother, and somewhere, a werewolf growling. All the sounds were glorious. She was home. 

Recently graduated from Hogwarts and in a relationship with Alexandros made the return even better.  

Her hands carded through his hair and mischievously she pulled at his strands. She sighed into the kiss when he squeezed her hips in warning. She expected him to push her against the house; but instead, he pulled back with a gasp. 

Marin looked up at Alex with confusion as his nostrils widened. “Is something wrong?” She questioned, her hand falling to his chest. 

_ “Alex!” _

Marin and Alex jumped away from each other as they saw the Alpha turning the corner “Someone breached the wards!” Alastair informed. 

“I know,” Alex replied. Marin’s eyebrows furrowed at Alex’s even tone. “I’ll go look for them.”

“I already sent Saladin.”

“I’ll search too,” Alex said firmly. “Marin, Let’s go.” He gripped her arm and threw her over his back.

Before Marin could blink, they were running through the forest. “Alex, what’s wrong?” 

“I can smell Alan. We need to get to him before Saladin does.”

Alex ran for a few more seconds and then set Marin on the ground. “Take him to the caves by the stream. I’ll go distract Saladin.” 

Marin nodded, spotting her brother a few yards away. She sprinted toward him, her green robes fluttering behind her and blending into the forest.

She reached her half-brother in a panic and yanked him down the stream. “Are you crazy?” She hissed, stepping on stones and uneven land with grace. 

“I know, I’m sorry, but I needed to see you,” He said breathlessly, trying to keep up with her. 

Marin sent him a glare over her shoulder. She felt a shiver run through her spine as they passed through the invisible wards and finally made it to the caves. 

Marin pushed him deep into them so when they looked at the cave’s opening, they could barely see the light from outside. The siblings took out their wands and lit a dim light overhead. 

Marin tucked her wand back in her robes. “You know, if Saladin had caught you, you could have started a pack war? Especially being an emissary, they would have thought you were a spy.”

“I know,” Alan snootily rolled his eyes. “Coming here seemed the better alternative to sending an owl.”

“No. An owl would have been better.”

“Owls are nearly always intercepted and what I wanted to tell you would not have gone over so well with the ministry.” 

Marin’s anger subsided at Alan’s tone. She stood straight. “Okay, what did you want to tell me?”

“Tomorrow you’re choosing the Alpha.”  

“I am.”

“Do you have an idea of who you are going to pick?”

Marin sighed and leaned against the cave wall. “Everyone thinks Mack is going to win the test. Saldin is the eldest, but he doesn’t seem to want the position, and Richard isn’t that good of a fighter.”

“And Alex?”

“I don’t know. He’s a wild card but...but I was thinking of changing the Alpha test.”

“Marin? Are you crazy?”

“A little, but there’s no rules against it.”

“What are you changing it to?”

“Nothing too far off our pack’s values, it will still focus on strength and fighting...but I don’t know. I was going to decide tomorrow what I should do. Why are you asking me who I was thinking of picking?”

“Because I don’t want you making the same mistake I did.” He leaned against the wall as well. “I might have made a mistake in choosing Talia as the Alpha.”

Marin’s eyes snapped to the cave’s opening as if someone else had heard. _ “Alan—” _

“I didn’t think it was a mistake at first. You have to understand the Hale’s Alpha test isn’t so clear cut as yours. In all pretense, every single one of them passed each of their worst memories, but they all handled them differently. Sandra was more emphatic, something I don’t believe is good in an Alpha when it requires to make very difficult decisions. Peter and Talia they were both brutal in how they conquered their fears.”

“So are you saying Peter should have been the Alpha?”

“I don’t know. Yes? I’m really not sure.”

“Why are you having doubts? What did Peter do differently from Talia?”

Alan ignored her question and continued speaking as if he hadn’t been interrupted, “Despite that Talia has displayed a wonderful charismatic aura and is a good Alpha, I don’t think she is  _ the  _ Alpha.”

Marin’s eyes narrowed, “Let me stop you there. This is your opinion. You said it yourself the Hale Alpha test is not clear-cut, so you are basing your judgment on an  _ opinion _ , which is not like you at all. What has Talia done to make you question her authority? Does she even know you’re here?”

“She’s done nothing and that’s my basis of my opinion,” Alan answered, choosing to ignore again. “Back at Hogwarts, Peter and I were the ones who thought there would be a unity among different packs. I believed that if Talia was the Alpha she would start considering drawing an alliance between the Hale and Deucalion one, but she has done nothing. I questioned her that if Alex or Mack became the Alpha, would she draw a bond between the packs?”

“And what she did say?”

“That Alex and Mack are not the Alpha.”

Marin smiled. “Alan, by her response alone Talia is a good Alpha. She’s not going to take the what if’s. You said it yourself, Talia is brash. When the moment comes then she will make her decision. You can’t control her to do something; you have to guide her. If you want an alliance between the Deucalion and Hale one, you can’t just say so. You have to approach it critically. First and foremost, you have to answer the most important question in forming any alliance is how does this benefit me? How will the alliance benefit the Hale one? Only when you have a sufficient answer then you speak to Talia about the matter. We both know approaching it on a basis of feelings will only anger her and deter her further from it. And you have to remember, she’s not Peter. Peter and you have been close since you were children. You know everything about each other and I know you envisioned running and supporting your pack beside him, but for some reason, your rationality decided to kick you in the head and choose Talia. Still, a wonderful choice and we both know it.”

Marin smirked and then continued, “And do you want my opinion? Peter is my close friend as well, but the way he thinks may seem too calculating, but just like Sandra, he thinks first with his heart than with his head. Talia will always be more logical and that is a desired trait no matter what pack.”

Alan licked his lips, “I understand what you are saying, but I still believe Talia will do nothing to form an alliance.”

“Let your Alpha surprise you, Alan.” 

“Is that why you are changing the test? To see who can surprise you more?”

“Yes.”

 

|~~***~~| 

 

Marin bowed her head as her mother drew the temporary tattoos across her back, arms, chest and legs. Each one was an Ancient Rune found in the temple of Delphi, honoring the roots of the Deucalion’s Emissary line. Marin let the ink sink soothingly into her skin.

“Oh shit.”

Marin looked over her shoulder as her mother cursed. She snorted, knowing that she was only able to see this side of her mother.

“What happened? Did you mess up?” 

“No, not that. I can't remember how to draw this rune.”

Marin mocked a gasp, “The woman who insists on knowing everything there is to know about emissary duties does not know how to draw a simple rune?”

Marin yelped when her mother yanked her hair. “Don't take that tone with me.” The amusement in her voice numbed the harshness of her actions. “My mother never taught me this rune. I didn't possess the sight like you.”

Her mother stepped away from her and began to scan the library shelves surrounding them on all sides in the basement of the Deucalion home. It had become their prepping room for the Alpha ceremony. 

“Is it only for people who have the sight?” Marin questioned. 

“Yes and I've seen it before in a book but if I can just—ah here's the little bugger.” She pulled the book out and began to search through it. As she did, Marin busied herself with looking at the shelf. A very worn out book caught her eye. Curiously, she pulled it out and flipped through the pages, but on first inspection she noticed the book was completely blank. She frowned, shut the book, and looked at the cover. Ancient Greek runes were etched into the leather.  

She turned to her mother, “What is this?”

“Huh?”

Marin waved the book in the air. Her mother glanced up at her with wide eyes. “Oh. I nearly forgot about that book.”

“What is it?”

“Well your grandma insisted it was a Moonwalker book.”

“Remind me what that is again.”

Her mother set her own book down and reached for the pot of ink. A muttered spell and a flick of the wand changed the ink from black to a silvery grey. “I’m not really positive on what or who they are. My mother was a crazy old woman, and what I know about them comes from her crazy ass head. And she said, they are people born of the moon’s essence, it’s power courses through their veins. Why? Well my mother theorized the first Moonwalker was the first emissary, but they were cruel, using force to control werewolves rather than help and support them. And my mom believed that in that book lied everything about their history and their magic.”

“So how did we get a hold of it?”

“Well, if I remember correctly, Deucalion, the first of this pack millenniums ago, not our current Alpha, stole the book from a Moonwalker but he couldn’t do anything with it because it’s only visible to Moonwalker eyes. So he just kept it out of spite. And it was passed along almost flippantly down every Alpha line. It was your great great great grandmother Georgia who stole the book from her Alpha and sought out a Moonwalker to return the book, but she never found one. It was kept in her home almost forgotten until I stumbled upon it accidentally.” Her mother paused as she began to draw a rune in the center of Marin’s forehead. “I was practicing fire repellent charms, but accidently caused a small fire in my mother’s living room. Everything burned except for that book. Naturally, I grew curious and learned about its origins from my crazed mother and from there when I first introduced you to the pack, I decided to return the book to this library.”

“So Alastair knows about the book?”

“Yes.” 

“What does he say about it?”

“He doesn’t really have an opinion. He just said throw it with the other books. We can’t do anything with it and he thinks Moonwalkers no longer exist, so there’s no point in looking for one. But enough of that.” Her mother set the ink down. “All done.”

Marin turned around to the full length mirror her mother had casted. She saw the swirls along her body. “They’re beautiful.”

“I think so too.”

Her mother helped her tie her cape around her neck. 

“Are you ready?” Her mother asked.

“Yes.”

“Are you still changing the test?”

“I think so.”

“Good.”

Marin looked at her mother through the mirror. “I’m surprised you agree with me. You hated the idea of me fighting.”

“I stopped caring when you turned seventeen. You’re an adult and have learned so much, plus arguing with you is near impossible.”

Marin smirked, “Cause I always win?” Another yank to her hair.

“Shut it you.”

Marin turned around to face her mother. “What will you do when you pass the line to me?”

Her mother sighed and walked around the library, “Go to France, I believe.”

“I’ll visit you.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because if you do, that means you are neglecting your duties.”

Marin rolled her eyes. 

“Plus,” Her mother continued with a twinkle in her eyes, “You will have your hands full with emissary duties  _ and with Alex _ .”

Marin blushed. “You know?”

It was her mother’s turn to roll her eyes. “Everyone knows Marin. Even Alastair. We had a nice laugh and chat about it, considering how you two had been tip toeing around each other for the past three years. And mockery aside, I’m happy for you. But,” Her voice grew solemn, “You must know that if you and Alex marry and have children, and he is chosen as the Alpha, the Alpha line will end with him. An Alpha’s child can't carry emissary blood.”

Marin nodded, “I know, Alex and I already discussed this. And surprisingly we have both come to the decision neither of us wants children. So we don't have to worry about that. All it means is that the Alpha exam for the next generation will lie on his nephews or nieces. Saladin already has a child, so it's not as if there is a threat to the Alpha line.”

“But you must have also realized that the emissary one would end with you.” 

Marin smirked, knowing her mother was subtlety testing her. “That's not really true though, is it? The Deucalion family is the most preserved line of all wizard history, but ours has been lost, and changed so much that it's a wonder how we regained our original family name when it was gone with the Dark Ages. Which means, that I can transfer my trust as an emissary to anyone I please.”

Her mother smiled, “Spoken like a true emissary. C’mon, let’s start the ceremony.”

Marin took a deep breath and sought out her wand. 

Together they stepped outside into the forest.

The Deucalion family, minus Alex and his brothers, were seated on the forest floor. There was no light overhead from the moon this night, it was a new moon. So the dragonfly petunias Marin had planted last summer, casted a warm pink glow around the clearing. 

The pack cheered when they saw Marin and her mother enter the clearing and step in the center. She had been told by her mother that this ceremony was a very serious event but all that had been thrown out the window when she saw Alex’s cousins whistle at her appearance. Marin fondly rolled her eyes and continued walking until they reached Alastair seated at the northern part of the circle. 

He stood to his feet as they approached.

“Helena,” Alastair greeted. “Marin.”

Both curtsied, Marin was laughing internally over the ridiculousness of it, knowing she had never curtsied before in her life, but apparently there were rules to this. 

The two women stood straight, “Alpha.” They returned in unison.

Alastair walked between them until he was standing in the middle of the circle. He spoke in a deep voice, “The day has come where all my sons are of age!”

The pack became impossibly loud as they clapped and cheered.

“Tonight under the new moon my sons will test their strength against each other. Only the strongest will become the next Alpha and take the role of it on the full moon. But first! The emissary ritual! Helena will you?”

Her mother nodded. She gripped her mother’s hand and together they walked to the center. They then faced each other one hand holding the other and their wands pointed to the sky. 

Her mother began to recite the ancient Greek words. Marin did not understand any of them, but she had them memorized. She shut her eyes and let her mother’s strong voice fill the forest. When she opened them again, her mother switched to English, “With the power of the women and men before me who have so carefully guided this pack. I now pass our blessings, wisdom, and strength to the new guardian. Emissary do you accept this task?”

“I do.” Marin replied. At the corner of her eye she saw her tattoos glow white. She knew it was only for show, the power of connection between emissary and Alpha lied within her since birth, but it was nice to see a visual representation of it. She saw tendrils of magic seeping from her wand. They wrapped tightly around her wrist, falling against the outline of the runes of her arm perfectly. 

When the glow died out, she released her mother’s hand. For the first time, Marin addressed the pack as one of it’s leaders. 

“I, Marin Morrell have been granted the task to choose your new Alpha.” The noise rose again. Marin snorted and raised a hand to silence them, the effect was immediate and Marin enjoyed the little show.

She began to walk around the clearing until she approached Alastair. 

“Permission to change the ceremony?” 

Sounds of defiance and disbelief echoed in the forest. Alastair this time silenced the crowd. “As our new emissary, I trust you to make the right judgment.”

Marin smiled. “Then bring out the contestants!” Marin shouted.

The noise erupted again. Alastair resumed his seat at the north side, while the brothers approached from the south. 

The crowd parted to let them inside the clearing. All of them were shirtless and adorned with their own markings across their bodies, the only one missing from the group was Saladin who opted out of the ceremony. She met Alex’s eyes and both of them smiled at each other. 

“Contestants,” Marin addressed them. “The time has come to prove your strength. Step forward if you will accept the challenge I shall bestow upon you.”

All four of them stepped confidently toward her. Marin walked up the line of them. She then turned her back to them and to the waiting and expectant crowd. “Pack mates I have chosen to change the exam to reflect true strength. I have seen into the future,” Marin thearatized. They all knew she possessed the sight, so they held their breath with her speech. “And I have seen that our pack will not survive with sheer strength alone. No. Our pack needs to be the strongest in body, mind, and soul. And for that, I have decided that these four brothers will not fight against each other. Rather, they will fight a pack member they least expect.” 

The crowd broke into murmurs wondering who it would be. Several of them believed that they would have to fight the current Alpha, but no, that wasn’t it.

“You cannot let blind faith dictate that every member of this pack has this pack’s intentions at heart. You will need to have the strong will and ability to turn against a pack member to protect the rest of the pack. Contestants, do you agree?”

They nodded, albeit a little cautiously.

“So I have decided to create a test where you will have to compete against the person you will have to trust the most in this pack.” She did a small twirl to face the contestants once more. “Me.”

Alastair rose from the floor and dashed to the center of the circle. “A brilliant idea, Marin,” Alastair supported. “Let’s see them best you in a fight.”

Richard was the first to refute. “Dad, you can’t expect us to fight with her. She’s  _ human _ .”

Marin stepped confidently toward him, and although she had to crane her head back to meet eyes with him, she still felt like the bigger person. “Richard, what moon phase are we in?”

“A new moon.”

“Exactly. Your werewolf abilities have significantly weakened, so you will have to rely on technique to battle me. Something, I know you significantly lack.”

The crowd broke into oohs. 

Marin continued. “If you do not think you can win a fight against a human, you are not fit to lead this pack. So I ask once more, do you accept this challenge?”

Richard’s jaw tensed but he nodded regardless.

Alastair faced his remaining three children. “Good luck.” He said, turning away. “Marin, don’t go easy on them.”

Marin grinned, untying her cape to reveal her black tank top and black pants underneath. “I won’t. Let’s start with the eldest shall we?”

Richard nodded, while Mack and Alex chose to stand at the south of the circle.  

There was no bell, there was no start. The fight began with whomever threw the first punch. Marin, not one to attack first did this time with Richard. She punched him straight in the nose.

Richard had a delayed response and tried to punch her back, but Marin ducked under his arm and elbowed him in the face.

Richard lurched backwards. Marin kicked him in the knee, destroying his stance. He fell to the floor and Marin kneed him in the face. She heard the pack hiss. Richard gasped and tumbled onto the ground. Marin stepped forward quickly and placed her foot at his throat, successfully ending the match.

The fight had not even lasted a minute. Marin was barely winded too, and it all served to do was wound Richard’s pride and make the pack grow wild in cheers.

Many of them had not seen Marin fight before, so watching her move so quickly in the delivery of her attacks had them all filled with excitement. 

She stepped away from Richard and held out a hand to him. She expected him to ignore her offered hand, but he surprised her as he took it gratefully and rose to his feet. He bowed to her and walked down the clearing to sit by his brother Saladin.

Mack was next. 

Marin was definitely much more wary with him. Mack was not only a good fighter, he had a physique that put Marin at a disadvantage. He was most likely twice her weight and her head only came to his chest. 

Mack approached her and both of them circled each other, trying to see where would be the best place to attack. Mack pounced first, seeing the open spot on her right flank. Marin barely dodged in time. She moved around him and elbowed him in his shoulder blade. The force of it hurt her more than it did Mack. Swiftly, she created a distance between them again, still calculating her attack. Mack followed.

He punched her in the collarbone and Marin cried out with the pain. She turned to her side to guard her front, which was her first mistake. Mack raised his foot and kicked her straight to her side. Marin gasped as she lost her balance. She fell onto the pack. They steadied her for a moment before pushing her back toward him. 

But Mack only came again. He hunched forward and charged at her. His arms came around her waist as he threw her over his shoulder.

The pack moved rapidly out of the way as Mack shoved her against the tree.

Marin gasped in pain but with the high vantage point now, she saw her opening. She drove her fist at the back of his neck. 

Mack hissed and threw his head back to growl at her, and Marin saw another opening. She punched him in the middle of the throat. He dropped her to the ground as he struggled to breathe.

She rolled out of the way and made it back to the clearing. As she spun around she saw Mack charging once more. This time, she was ready. She aimed a fake punch, successfully distracting him to block his jibe, then punched him to his left cheek. She stepped under his next punch and slapped both of her palms into his ears. The werewolf was discombobulated with his primary sense targeted so unfairly. She then hit him in the ribs, then the solar plexus, and finally heel kicked him in the diaphragm.

Surely, her attacks were complicated.

But to the onlooker it all occurred in the manner of a few seconds, so everyone was shocked when Mack fell to the ground and Marin placed her foot at his throat.

The forest was silent for a long period.

Marin dared to look down at Mack’s expression. She thought she would see resentment in his features for taking the Alpha title that everyone was sure would be his, but all she saw was wonder and awe. 

She slowly removed her foot and Mack stood proudly alone. 

The tension in the forest was still present so Mack smiled proudly and threw his arms in the air. Everyone cheered at his effort and it only made everyone excited for her next match with Alexandros.

When Alexandros stepped into the clearing, Mack still remained in the center. “Dad,” Mack called out loudly. “I suggest we heal Marin’s wounds and give her time to rest to make this fight fair.”

Alastair consented. Marin stepped down and went to her mother. She saw Saladin’s wife already rushing toward her with her wand. With beautifully pronounced spells, she healed Marin’s broken rib, collar bone, and spine. Her mother handed her water.

“I never knew you could fight like that,” Her mother whispered in amazement. Marin smiled, drinking slowly. “What if you beat Alex as well?”

“Then she will be the next Alpha,” Alastair joked, coming up behind the women. He placed a warm hand on her shoulder. “You did well against Mack, surely I thought he would win.” 

Marin set her water down. “I thought so too for a few seconds. But my mom brings up a good point, what happens if I defeat Alex?”

Alastair exhaled deeply. “Then we will see if any of my nieces and nephews can defeat you. But…” He made eye contact with her mother. Marin looked curiously between the two. 

“What?” She questioned.

“Nothing,” Alastair said quickly. “Let me know when you are ready to fight again.”

Marin nodded and watched Alastair console Mack, who didn’t appear to need any. He was having fun showing his uncles his broken jaw that was knitting slowly back together. Marin rolled her eyes and searched out Alex.

She found him standing in the middle of the clearing, staring at his feet in deep thought. Marin was very talented in deciphering his worries, but this time she did not know what he was feeling. She turned away from him and instead concentrated on regulating her breathing.

After a twenty minute rest, Marin returned to the center of the clearing. The pack’s vociferations rang once more when Alex and Marin faced each other.

There was no circling. There was no need to. They had fought several times before, they both knew their weaknesses. And in those fights, sometimes she won, sometimes he did. So really, the fight could go to either of them. 

Marin after a moment, finally took a fighting stance, Alex still didn’t.

She was very confused. She hoped Alex had not changed his mind and instead was going to back out of the fight. Surely, their new relationship wasn’t going to change this dynamic, right?

So to test the waters, she attacked first. She aimed at his head and he dodged. Marin tried again, and this time Alex blocked her attack, but did not take the offensive stance.

Marin frowned and stepped away from him.

“Don’t hold back,” She told him. 

But Alex did not say anything. He remained still and locked eyes with her. It made Marin furious. She tried to control her emotions just like her mother taught her, but in the current situation she found it very difficult. She carelessly attacked him.

He dodged each attack with accuracy. She couldn’t even get him with anything. She rose her leg to kick him in the side, but he blocked the impact with his own knee. She didn’t understand. Between Alex and Mack, Mack was the better fighter. So why couldn’t she get a kick in?

She bared her teeth and it was that moment, Alex kicked her down.

Marin gasped, not expecting the attack. She fell face first and when she turned over onto her back, Alex was above her.

He had won.

And it was the most anticlimactic battle between them. 

But as Marin caught her breath on the ground, she realized Alex had approached the situation responsibly. She had said to treat the situation like she betrayed the pack. He had not hurt her, he let her tire herself out and when the moment was right, he subdued her. 

She closed her eyes as she felt his foot against her throat. She took in the cheers.

Marin found the ground back under her feet as Alex lifted her up. He grinned down at her and thunked their foreheads together. “I’m sorry for getting you angry.”

Marin shook her head, “You did well.”

Alex was yanked away from her and pulled into his brother’s arms. She let the siblings embrace their new Alpha before she had to continue the rest of the ceremony. 

As she watched them, her mother came up behind her. And in the excitement of it all, no one but Marin heard her mother, “Alastair and I always knew Alex would be the Alpha.”

“Why?”

Her mother smiled, “Your prophecy.”

Marin’s mouth parted, realizing that the prophecy truly was about Alex.  _ The greatest defender… _

Marin suddenly felt very proud for him. 

 

|~~***~~| 

 

“I am your maid of honor right?” Peter asked her.

Marin rolled her eyes. “I already told you, I’m not having a maid of honor. I don’t want a big wedding. I just want something small.” Marin repeated for the twelfth time in that hour. She sidestepped Peter and reached around him for the empty flower pot. Peter made a face as she pulled out the bag of fertilizer and started pouring them in the line of pots she had arranged on her work table in the greenhouse. 

“But I’m your best friend.” Peter tried again. 

“Forget it, Peter,” Saladin said, walking into the greenhouse. “We both know you can’t change her mind.” He had a giant fishing net over his shoulder filled with several fish. He thunked it on the ground by Marin’s feet. 

Marin smiled in delight. “Thank you. How much do I owe the kids?”

“They said they want fourteen boxes of chocolate frogs.”

Marin laughed, “I’ll give them eight and throw in some jelly slugs.”

“Fine by me. My kids can do without the sugar.” He leaned against her workstation. “How’s healer training going?” He asked.

Peter grinned. “Amazing. I have one more test next week and I’ll finally get my credentials, which means I can finally start working for pay. Interning is the worst.” Saladin patted his shoulder in sympathy before telling Marin he needed to head back out.

Marin watched him go and smiled before returning to her work. As she gutted the fish with her wand, she took the time to reminisce. 

It had been three years since Alex had been chosen as the Alpha. When the full moon had come, the transference spell had been performed. Alastair, old in age, had appreciated his youngest taking on the role. However, as the transference spell dictated, the spell left Alastair weak. Within less than a year, he passed away. But no one mourned for very long. It was just the nature of it, and Alastair was happy passing away in his sleep. Promises of reuniting with his wife kept his tone cheerful in his time in hospice care. 

Nevertheless, the somber tone did not overtake the Deucalion pack mainly because there were more pressing matters. When Alastair passed away, Alex had taken to perform his first official duty as Alpha. 

He drew an alliance with the Hale pack. 

Shock and primarily anger absorbed any sorrowful spirit lingering due to Alastair’s death. The pack was deeply upset—minus Mack. The others did not want an alliance. The Deucalion pack prided it’s ability to survive on it’s own with sheer strength. Alliances carried the implication that they needed help. Deucalion's were very prideful werewolves. 

Not to mention, the Deucalion and Hale pack had not seen eye to eye for several centuries. It was during the sixteenth century—or was it the seventeenth, no one could remember, merely proving how ridiculous the animosity between the two packs were—that the fighting between the two started. Something about a goblin horn and a werewolf claw, neither pack could recall what the fight had been about.  

Alex, made a point of this to his pack.  

Still, some pack members threatened to leave. Some of Alex’s cousins physically attacked Alex. Alex couldn’t even prepare a retaliation because Mack had drove his cousins’ heads into the trunk of a tree. 

It was a very difficult time. Marin had been a little jealous of how smoothly Talia’s pack had taken the news. Although, the fact that Talia’s pack consisted of their old friend’s at Hogwarts, made the decision much easier. 

It took Talia coming to Deucalion territory to settle the matter. When she stood in front of them, regal and composed and shifting into a wolf, a shock to everyone—even Alex and Marin, no one could deny that her special ability made her a great werewolf and Alpha. 

The alliance between the two became much easier after that. Now, no one looked twice if they saw a Hale in the Deucalion home and vice versa. 

With their alliance drawn, Alex let it settle for a few months before announcing to the pack once more he would draw an alliance with Ennis’ pack. No one criticized their Alpha’s judgment then. 

“I can’t believe you're gutting fish the day before your wedding,” Petter announced, breaking Marin of her thoughts.

“It’s for the fertilizer for the skeleton flowers tomorrow.” 

“Aren’t skeleton flowers morbid for a wedding?” 

“They turn crystal clear when it rains. And it’s gonna rain tomorrow. Rain is good luck for a wedding.” 

Peter shook his head in exasperation. “Whatever, but if you’re having my niece as a flower girl I can’t see why I can’t be your maid of honor.”

“Why do you want to be? Wouldn’t you rather be Alex’s best man?”

“He said that if he were to have one, he would choose Mack over me.”

Marin snorted. “Well, if you want to be in the wedding so bad. I guess you can break Laura’s little heart and be the flower girl yourself.”

“I can’t break her heart. She’s been practicing all over the house.” 

“Then you’re gonna have to join the guests.” 

Peter stuck his tongue out, but the following day, he was sitting beside Alan and watching Marin walk down the aisle.

Marin held her gaze with Alex. She met him at the small makeshift altar. She barely listened to Saladin ordaining the wedding because she could only focus on the love her life.

When their bond was sealed, Marin felt everything wonderfully falling into place. 

 

|~~***~~| 

 

Alex and Marin were visiting the Hale home. All of them were in the living room, surrounding Talia and congratulating her on the reveal of her second pregnancy. 

“I think it’s a boy,” Lucas proudly announced, rubbing his wife’s still flat stomach. 

Talia rolled her eyes fondly. “Whatever the baby is, I’m happy.”

“I want a sister!” Laura announced loudly.

Everyone laughed at the four year old’s antics. Lucas pinched his daughter’s cheeks. “No, you want a brother you can tease and bully. You can’t do that with a baby sister.”

Laura looked very pleased, but she was quickly sent away with her cousins to play upstairs.

They engaged in idle conversation, mainly in catching up with the activity of their careers. Peter complained of his Healer duties where a woman coughed up spiders into his hair. Alan raved about his position as Potions professor at Hogwarts. Ennis, Talia and Lucas were enjoying their ministry desk jobs. Alex pushed away the conversation about his unpublished children’s book and Marin was delighted with her activity as a Herbologist. 

In between another push of Lucas and Ennis accosting Alex of when his book would finally be done, Marin headed over to the kitchen to refill their tea and snacks.

When she returned, the first crack of many appeared in her life.

The tray of tea and mugs she had floating behind her crashed to the ground. All her senses dimmed as she spoke,  _ “The one with the moon flowing in his veins comes to vanquish The Once King of Arcadia brought forth from vengeance...he will be born on the eighth moon...lovers and mother will set the pieces before him...surrounded by one forged from silver, a lightning guardian, a creature that screams for death, and chasers of the moon...the King will overpower him, he will die to kill, for the spirit must rise no more...the one with the moon flowing in his veins comes to die.”  _

Marin felt Alex’s familiar arms cradling her. She leaned into his touch, asking what she had seen. Alex repeated it to her and it was quiet in the Hale living room.

When Marin realized she had been seated on the couch beside Talia, she saw the tray repaired on the coffee table. 

“The King of Arcadia?” Alan spoke first. “Does that refer to Lycaon?”

“He’s coming back?” Ennis questioned. 

“That’s preposterous,” Talia said quickly. 

Alex crossed his arms, “But her visions come true.” 

“What visions? You’ve only had two,” Lucas said. 

Alan defended his sister. “Two visions is a great accomplishment for any seer.” 

“But none have come true,” Talia’s rational voice shined through.

Marin finally regained her bearings to reply. “My first vision did. Alex became the Alpha and united the packs.”

“Marin, but that vision…” Talia bit her lip. “Don’t you remember the rest of it? His kingdom will unite the other unwelcome kingdoms, yes. But the last part of that vision entailed a suffering kingdom. None of us are suffering.” 

“Unless,” Peter interrupted. “It means we will.”

“How?” Alex questioned, very much intrigued seeing as he was part of this prophecy. 

Peter shrugged, lost for words. 

“But the kingdom’s prosperity will meet society…” Marin softly whispered. Her eyes opened wide as she realized what that could entail. “They’re going to learn about who we are.”

Talia quickly stood, “They won’t. All three of our packs are rooted very deeply with wizard history. No one would dare to think we are anything but human.”

Lucas sighed, “You may think that, but maybe we should still be on our guards.” 

Peter snorted, “It sounds like we should be on our guard for Lycaon rising! Talia our dad passed on tales of Lycaon’s revival. A lot of werewolves think there is a way. Shouldn’t we try guard against something like that occurring? Lycaon coming back to life would be disastrous for everyone, even werewolves.” 

“He’s not coming back to life,” Talia chided.

“I might have to agree,” Marin said. “It was my vision, but you said I prophesied something about moons flowing in veins. That sounds like Moonwalker talk and they no longer exist.”

Alan curiously asked, “What’s a Moonwalker?”

“An ancient history. It doesn’t matter what they are, my family has tried to find them but they haven’t found anything. This prophecy sounds like a false one.” 

Talia nodded furiously, “Yes, I agree. I find it best we move past these prophecies. Believing in them might make them true.”

 

|~~***~~| 

 

Marin’s entire demeanor softened as she saw Alex hunched over his desk in the early hours of the morning, his quill furiously scratching along the paper. She approached him with his favorite brand of tea in hand and invaded his space.

Alex immediately set the quill down and wrapped his arms around Marin’s waist as she sat in his lap. Marin leaned against him and pressed a kiss to his lips before handing him his drink.

He thanked her with another soft kiss. 

“What are you doing?” Marin questioned, glancing at the paperwork scattered over his desk.

He set the mug down and pressed his chin against her shoulder. “Writing a review for a mutual acquaintance. He wrote a wonderful literary anaylsis on my book and my agent said that I have to return the favor.”

Marin grinned and pressed her lips against Alex’s temple. “Was it a good book?” 

“Err—”

Before Alex could utter his disdain, the fireplace glowed. 

Lucas came barreling through, collapsing to the ground in a complete wreck. His face was red and wet with tears streaming down his face. Marin and Alex immediately stood, rushing to him. They crowded him on both sides, touching his shoulder.

“Lucas?” Alex questioned, trying to lift him to his feet.

Lucas shoved at him and his eyes glowed yellow. Alex urged Marin to back off. Marin did and as she stood, she noticed Lucas clutching a newspaper in his right hand. When Alex noticed it too, he asked Lucas about it.

Lucas shook his head, more tears falling. 

A few seconds later, Talia emerged from the fireplace. She wrapped her night robe tighter around her body, leaning down to grasp her husband.

At the feel of his wife and Alpha holding him, he collapsed into her body. Talia held him up, rubbing circles along his back.

“What happened?” Alex repeated his question.

Talia sucked in a breath. “Ennis’ pack is dead.”

Marin felt her heart freeze and then rapidly push against her chest very painfully. “What?” 

Lucas choked out another sob, “They’re dead! They were murdered! And Ennis is being held at the ministry for questioning!”

Alex motioned for Talia to direct Lucas to the bed. She sat down and Lucas sat beside her, his arms tangled on her waist and still crying.

“I still don’t understand, what happened?” Alex spoke, his authoritative voice coming through.

Talia pushed aside her own emotions to answer their questions. “Hunters. They somehow found about Ennis’ pack. They murdered everyone and kept Ennis alive and that’s when the aurors came. But they don’t know how to handle the situation. They know Ennis is a werewolf so they can’t regard it like a normal murder case. They’re thinking of sentencing him to Azkaban.” 

“We can vouch for him.” Alex said.

Marin bit her lip and she regretted saying this, but her emissary duties kicked in. “I would advise you not to. Associating ourselves with this case can put us under investigation as well. We can’t have anyone knowing about us.”

“That’s what Alan said,” Talia interjected. 

“We should still help,” Lucas cried out. “I had visited him yesterday morning! We played Quidditch!” 

“Lucas,” Alex said firmly. “I know you want to help but we can’t. Marin is right. We need to step away from this. You have to protect your pack. You have a new little girl running about. You can’t have anyone threatening your children.”

_ “Ennis would have helped.” _

And he would have, so all of them felt so guilty walking away and letting it be. 

 

|~~***~~|  

 

Marin was looking out the window to see the front porch. The lights were lit as the new moon usually made the forest impossibly dark. She saw Mack with his little girl. He was teaching her how to growl, which wasn’t really something that needed to be taught, but it was a nice bonding time for the two. 

Marin sighed as arms wrapped around her waist and a head thunked between her shoulderblades. She felt Alex’s lips press against her bare shoulder. 

“How does it feel?” 

“It doesn’t feel hot anymore.” She replied, shivering when she felt Alex’s fingertips tracing the tattoo of the wolf and raven along her shoulder. He suddenly let go and stepped in front of her.

“What’s wrong?”

Marin sighed, closing herself off. “Nothing.”

“Marin. I know you’ve been taught to lie but I know you, what’s wrong?” 

“Something feels off.”

Alex looked outside. “If you’re worried, I’ll send a search party—”

They both jumped as they heard a crack and then a suddenly a loud growl. Marin’s eyes went to the window again and she felt her stomach sink far below her gut as she saw Richard on the ground with a man on top of him. Both were covered in blood and even from this distance, she could see Richard and the man had been splinched.

It was a beat of a second but Alex was no longer by her side, but already in the front yard growling at the man.

Marin rushed outside and everything about her life fell to pieces in only five minutes. 

The man pushed away from Richard and threw a strange seed into the sky. Marin watched it and saw it attach to the wards. The wards collapsed and before she knew it, there were several loud cracks and then ten witches and wizards surrounding the Deucalion home.

“Mack, get Stacey inside!” Marin yelled at him. 

When she stepped onto the yard, she heard the man shout, “Set the beacons now!”

Marin gasped as the wizards set the anti apparition wards. Alex immediately tackled the man to the ground. 

Marin tried to rush forward but then she heard an explosion. She turned to the house and saw the two fireplaces attached to the home, collapse. 

That’s when the screams started. 

Oh Merlin, they were removing their plans of escape. 

The pack ran out of the house to see the commotion. Surely, with the pack there they could fight against these ten wizards. However, no one from the pack expected the chill to suddenly run through the night. 

Marin’s head snapped to the forest as she heard a groan. The forest grew impossibly cold and from the shadows, she saw five dementors fly toward them. Marin’s fear shifted into anger. These hunters….they had dementors! They had ministry approval to do this…

The dementors swiped down on the werewolves. The teenagers were the ones affected by it first. Marin saw them collapse to the ground. 

She planted her feet and cast a patronus. A raven flew out of her wand and swiped at the dementors, pushing them away from the werewolves. 

However, the hunters only used the dementors as a distraction. While werewolves fell to the ground, a hunter casted fiendfyre. The witch flicked her wand and from the flames various animals appeared, ripping and burning through the forest. The fire encased the surroundings, blocking any exits and raising a large plume of smoke in the air. 

Marin charged at her as the other werewolves battled with the hunters.  _ “Expelliarmus!”  _ Marin shouted. But another wizard blocked her spell and she was suddenly left without a wand.  

A mean old looking wizard smirked and then snapped her wand in half.

Marin gasped because suddenly she was on the floor in binds being dragged away from the home. 

Everything was happening so quickly that she barely registered the screams, the fire overtaking the manor and forest, the amount of dead bodies littered on the floor, Mack’s dead glazed look beside her fallen body…

She felt a shock to her system as she was lifted to her feet and strapped to a transfigured pole. Her eyes crazily searched for Alex. He was strapped to a pole in front of her. His own binds were sizzling into his skin nearly distracting her from the amount of blood coating his mouth.

“You disgusting piece of shit!” One of the wizards yelled. A whip came down on Alex’s body. Whatever it was coated in, broke the skin of Alex’s chest and refused to heal. “You killed three of my men.”

“You killed my pack!” Alex growled out.

“Because we are helping the wizarding world,” The man snarled. “Natasha! Turn that flame out you’ll burns us too.”

“They still aren’t all dead,” The witch said.

“They are plenty charred, they will die on their own. Find your self control and extinguish the flames.”

The witch rolled her eyes, but did a very complicated wand movement that Marin had never seen before and the flames died out. She had never seen a wizard able to control fiendfyre. Truly, these were experienced and highly skilled hunters.

Marin’s head lolled to the side and she saw the manor barely standing. Several of her packmates, were groaning on the floor in obvious pain. A few hunters walked over to them and finished them off one by one with a killing curse. 

“How did you find out?” Marin interrupted, looking to the man who appeared to be leading them. She regretted the question when all the Hunters looked at her.

The leader grinned, “It’s my job, that’s all you need to know. You’re the emissary, aren’t you?”

Marin sucked in a breath as he approached her.

“Don’t fucking touch her!” Alex spat. 

“Do you know what we do with emissaries?” The man pressed his wand against her throat. 

_ “I said don’t touch her!” _

The hunters laughed as someone struck him with a whip. Marin held in her tears and locked eyes with the man. 

“Tell me, how does a human live among the wolves?” The man asked.

Marin released a shaky breath, ignoring his question. She looked over at Alex, their gazes met. She could see from his eyes, what he was pleading of her.

_ Go.  _

But she couldn’t. She shook her head.  _ I’m not leaving you.  _

Alex coughed out, “There’s nothing left. We know how this ends.  _ You saw it.”  _

Marin’s lips thinned. She shut her eyes and nodded furiously. When she opened them, she looked Alex dead in the eye. For the first time as an emissary, she used their bond and ordered him, “Live.”

He gave a single nod. 

Alex tapped into his power. He released a frightening roar. With sheer will, he broke the binds, shocking the hunters. He growled and flung hunters every which way. 

Marin watched him, waiting for her chance. Alex came at her. Eyes red, teeth sharp, mouth bloody. His claws ripped the binds on her body.

Marin fell to the ground. Quickly, she stood and began to sprint into the forest. She heard the hunters coming after her, but Alex protected her and made sure she was a safe distance away. She looked over her shoulder and the last thing she saw of her husband were the hunters lowering him to his knees and driving two arrows into his eyes. 

Marin gasped and looked away. She kept running.

Without a wand, her magic mingled with her desperation and recklessly allowed her to apparate to Hale territory.

Now, Marin did not know this yet, but she would only break down twice in her lifetime. This was the first.

A wail echoed in the forest and Marin collapsed into the earth. She felt the earth groan beneath her body and she envisioned the earth suffering as much as she. 

  
  


|~~***~~| 

 

The Hales had taken her into their home without any hesitation. They cried for months. But gradually, they began to let it go. Marin could not. Everything had been robbed cruelly from her. She no longer had a purpose. 

She didn’t cry after the incident. Rather, she was a husk lying in Peter’s arms every night. She didn’t eat well or sleep. Once, she looked at a knife and wondered what it would feel like pressing against her eyes. She had told Peter this, and Lucas had charmed everything that could be dangerous to her to disappear in her presence. 

It was probably for the best.

She lied in her bed for hours. 

Once, Talia came to her room and offered her the role of emissary for the Hales.

Marin had replied, “Only if you can prove yourself as great as Alex.”

Talia said, “I will.” 

The confidence made Marin breathe easier. She started to step out of her room and enjoy company with the others. 

The husk was being filled, although very unevenly. One could see the husk was tipping dangerously. 

“And this shall be your office,” Alan told her years later as he took her back to Hogwarts. 

Marin sat at her desk, and kept the office empty even to this day.

Nothing could fill the husk completely. 

So she sat in a cold room, staring out the window. 

A shaky breath fell from her lips when she saw the sky.

_...A dappled day of seaborne clouds.  _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be one more Morrell chapter after this and then it will return to the main story.
> 
> Sorry this went so angsty....everything Morrell did and her plan will be shown next chapter.
> 
> Tell me what you think please!!


	65. Interlude: The Raven Among the Wolves Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Marin tricked everyone.

Marin’s fingertips brushed softly against the leaves. Although she kept the Herbology Greenhouse warm during the cold winter months, her dragonfly petunias still shivered, causing a soft buzz to echo in the greenhouse. If she pressed a thumb to the buzzing petal, the petunias emitted a pink glow, and from their own light they would warm up. As she touched the last one, she noticed her fluxweed plants beside the petunias.

Her brows scrunched at the teal roots peeking out of the fertilizer. That was odd, fluxweed root’s always knotted at the base, preventing any root from escaping the dirt. She reached for the plant and a small gasp fell from her mouth when her hand phased through. She pulled her hand back and quietly contemplated the situation.

Someone had stolen her fluxweeds and replaced them with an illusion. 

She stood straight, pulling her wand from her robes. “ _ Revelio _ ,” She spoke. She twirled her wand slowly. The illusion popped into several freckles of white light. The freckles danced in the air until they spelled a name. 

She narrowed her eyes at it. 

Marin vanished the spell and marched back to the castle, keeping her wand clutched tightly and by her thigh. Students side-stepped around her as they rushed back to their dorms, wanting to avoid the consequences of being out past curfew. 

She ignored them and continued her trek. She stopped at the door when she arrived. Marin considered knocking, but no one touched her plants without permission—not even a professor.

She unlocked the door with a spell, stepped inside swiftly, and shut the door with a firm click.  

Jennifer Blake’s posture stiffened immediately as she saw Marin standing in the middle of her office with a wand pointed at her person. 

“You’ve been raiding my greenhouse,” Marin said quickly cutting to the chase.

“I’m sorry?” Blake muttered. She placed the student’s scrolls on the chair beside her. 

“The fluxweed.” Marin clarified. 

Blake smiled and pretended the wand did not affect her. “I haven’t touched your fluxweed.” She looked away from Marin, opened another scroll, and began grading.

“Your magical signature is all over my plants. And even if it wasn’t, no one in this castle is skilled enough to cast an illusion spell such as that.”

“Bobby might.”

Marin huffed, “Why are you stealing my plants?”

Blake finally looked up at her, “I needed them for a demonstration in class, my fifth years were transfiguring common house plants into needles.”

“We both know fluxweeds are more than common house plants.” Marin’s feet clapped against the marble floor, as she stepped slowly closer. “In fact,” she circled the desk so she was standing over Blake, “Fluxweed is really only used for one thing.”

Blake reached inside her robes for her wand. Marin quickly disarmed her and pressed her wand to Blake’s neck. “Who are you?” Marin demanded. 

“No one of importance.” 

“If that were true, then you wouldn’t find the need to use polyjuice. Who are you? Quickly, before I call the aurors.”

“No!” She panicked.

Marin pressed the wand deeper into her neck, “You are a threat.”

“I’m not.” Blake began to sweat along her hairline. “I’m not. I’m not dangerous. I’ve never been. I would never hurt anyone.”

“Then why do you protest against a name.”

Blake licked her lips, “It’s difficult to explain and explaining might land me in Azkaban, which is something she fought very hard to keep me out of.”

“I hope you are aware you are building a solid case for me to immediately floo aurors.” 

“If you lower your wand, I will explain.”

“No.” 

“Lower your wa—”

“No.”

Blake’s eyes turned a bit misty. “The aurors would persecute me for who I’ve helped.”

“Who?”

There was a pregnant pause. “A werewolf.”

Marin’s wand clattered to the floor in shock. Memories slammed harshly against her mental barriers, threatening to dismantle her pacifistic reality. The near panic attack took a back seat as her body truly slammed against the wall. Blake had taken out her wand and pointed it at her. Marin’s arms were extended and pressed against the wall. 

“You cannot tell anyone!” Blake hissed, eyes lit a flame. 

“Who was she?” Marin whispered. The tone startled Blake. “The werewolf?  _ Your werewolf? _ ”

Blake lowered her wand to her thigh in confusion. The two women locked eyes. Blake took another long moment to answer, but finally, “Kali.”

Marin smiled softly, “Mine was Deucalion.”

The spell holding Marin in place faded.

Marin rubbed her wrist and walked forward and stood shoulder to shoulder with her. She placed her hand to Blake’s shoulder. “I feel your pain.” 

A gasp fell from Blake’s lips and suddenly Marin found a chest pressed against her back and two arms wrapped around her waist. Marin placed her hands softly over the others, holding on. 

 

|~~***~~|

 

Marin sighed as she marked Stiles Stilinski’s paper. Dear Merlin, if the first year put as much effort into trying to pass as he did with trying to fail, he would be her second best student. As such, she gave the boy a giant fat Exceeds Expectations, hoping the boy would be upset with his excellent grade as opposed to the Troll, he obviously wanted to displease his father.

She heard a chuckle by her side. 

“Stilinski?” Jennifer questioned.

Marin hummed, rolling up his parchment and grabbing another.

“He’s my most talented student,” Jennifer commented idly as she graded her own stack of papers. “A natural actually. I’ve never seen a student with his talent, too bad he won’t write a goddamn essay in my class. How do you get him to write in yours?”

“I threatened the class with my fanged geranium.” 

Jennifer pouted, “I thought Alan said we can’t use corporal punishment.”

“They don’t have to know I’m not actually going to follow through.” 

“And I thought I was Head of Slytherin.”

“I spent the better parts of my Hogwarts years with an annoying Slytherin. Some might have rubbed off.”

“Was he a werewolf too?”

Marin hesitated but nodded. “Yes. There were a lot of werewolves in Hogwarts. Most are dead.” She refused to give away Peter’s identity. Too many people knowing could put them at risk, despite Jennifer had been part of a pack, she still did not trust the other woman completely. 

Jennifer’s hand had stopped moving over the parchment. “I wish I could visit Kali. Too bad Azkaban doesn’t allow visitors. Do you wish you could visit him?”

Marin sighed, knowing work wasn’t going to be done anymore, “Everyday.” 

“It would be grand if we could break them out.”

And then Marin was struck with an idea.

It took nearly a year to finally carry it out.

But everything had fallen perfectly into place: threatening Harris to make them polyjuice potion, the gillyweed to swim under the fortress, the obliviating spells, the explosions.

It had all worked.

Marin gasped as her thumbs pressed against Alex’s soiled bandages wrapped haphazardly across his face. 

“Marin,” Alex wailed. He repeated her name like a mantra.

Marin wanted to bawl and hold him in her arms, but they had to move quickly. She grabbed his arm and flung it over her shoulder to carry him down the hallway. Two dementors waited for her at the end of it. Marin cast a patronus and let her raven tear them to pieces. She met Jennifer at an intersection, nearly carrying a weak Indian woman over her shoulders. 

“We good?” Jennifer questioned. 

“One more,” Marin said.

“One more?! The aurors are going to be here any second. Our wards and your devil’s snare won’t hold them for long.”

“One more!” Marin shouted. “Alex, is Ennis here?” Marin questioned softly.

“Yes, he was a floor directly below me. I could always hear him.”

“Good, let’s go.”

“Marin!” Jennifer shouted. “We don’t have time.”

“Then go! I’m not leaving anyone behind.”

She heard a grumble and then footsteps following her as she descended the stairs. There were more dementors but her raven phased through the ceiling and guarded them. Jennifer summoned her fox patronus as well. 

It felt much too long when they finally reached Ennis’ cell. But finally they were there. Her heart ached as she saw him fighting for life against the corner of the wall. She couldn’t take both of them, even with magic.

“Let me.” 

Marin turned to the werewolf on Jennifer’s back. She slid off her and stood straight as much as she could. She lifted Ennis over her shoulders and Marin admired the woman’s strength and grit. 

Marin sucked in a breath and faced the wall. She threw a seed at the cell’s wall. She watched the seed suddenly sprout roots and eat the magic of the fortress. It snaked between the cracks of the bricks. The fortress groaned as the wards broke. Marin smirked. She cast a spell to blast the wall. A splash echoed as the bricks fell into the ocean beneath them. She pocketed her wand and reached for Alex.

“We jump.”

Alex only nodded and put all his trust in her. 

The five jumped.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Peter waited for them in Jennifer's home. A gasp fell from his mouth as they all finally flooed into the living room. His arms reached for Alex. Marin collapsed onto the ground and watched Peter take Alex to the couch.

Kali and Ennis had both fallen to ground as well. Each of them were panting for breath. Their sweat, blood, and the waters of the North Sea drenched Jennifer’s wooden floors. 

“Can you heal them?” Marin gasped, pushing herself to her feet. All three werewolves were badly injured. Life in Azkaban had not treated any of them well. And judging from the fresh wounds across their bodies, the guards certainly had fun with them. 

Jennifer was already on hers and guiding Kali to lie on the other couch as well.

“Your herbs are still experimental, I can’t guarantee anything,” Peter said, removing Alex’s bandages as slowly as possible. 

“But you went over my formulas, you said they were perfect.”

“In theory. Theory and magic are two separate subjects, Marin. You should know this you are a professor.” He bit his lip. “But I’ll do my best.”

The bandage finally came off and Marin collapsed to her knees. Her head pressed against Alex’s thigh, the sight of Alex’s murky and disfigured eyes burning a hole right through her gut.

“It’s okay. Marin.  _ I lived _ .”

 

|~~***~~|

 

Marin finished reading the paper to Alex as he got some bedrest. She raked her hands through his hair after she placed the _ Daily Prophet _ to the side. Peter lied beside him, his hand pressing against Alex’s bare stomach and stealing as much pain as he could.

“Everyone is going to think we murdered them,” Alex sighed. His own hand was in Peter’s hair.

“But you didn’t.” Marin sighed softly.

“But they will think it. You broke us out of Azkaban and a few hours later a few wizards were attacked by werewolves.”

Peter sighed, “I already investigated the situation. It was a rogue. It was only a coincidence the two happened at the same time.” 

The three didn’t speak for several minutes. 

For years, Marin had felt alone, attempting to recollect her broken mentality. The pieces had been scattered at her feet and her nurturing green thumbs couldn’t seem to put it back together very well. Peter and Alan tried to comfort her, but she politely turned them away. She only left her room to eat, but even then the effort was slight. She spent most of her time teaching and meditating, attempting to erase the last couple years of her own life from her memory and replace it with a picture that made her smile a little more. 

Marin believed all of that hollowness would vanish when she had Alex back. It had been why she planned to break him out in the first place. But quickly, she realized, nothing had changed. Because while she loved Alex, still loved him, it had never been about him. It had been about her pack and the life they ripped from her. And that was something she was never going to get back. 

She leaned back in the chair and watched Alex. 

The massive discoloration on his chest crept its way up onto his face, stopping in the middle of his eyes and spreading around that general area versus continuing upward. As a result, the cloudy blue of his eyes stood out more strongly. Marin was willing to bet that years of living with his eyes untreated was causing him pain, although Alex would never admit it. 

Then past the physical ailments, Alex was probably more damaged than Marin could see. Years of living with dementors changed a man, she wondered who Alex was now. 

“Marin?” Alex asked softly, breaking the silence. “Why did you break me out?”

Peter slowly rose from the bed, sensing the awkwardness immediately. “I’m gonna see how your herbs are taking on with Ennis.”

Marin waited for him to shut the door before replying, “I couldn’t stand living in fake blissfulness while you rotted in Azkaban.”

“But now I’m on the run.”

Marin climbed into his bed and pressed her head against his shoulder. “Would that be worse than dementors and everyday torture?”

“Yes, because I’ve put you in danger.”

“No one suspects a thing. I’ve told you that already. Even Alan doesn’t know I did this. He believes it was a band of werewolves.” 

“Are you going to eventually tell him the truth?”

“No.”

“Are you going to tell Talia?”

Marin cursed her inability to control her heartbeat at that instant. Alex’s hands dug into her waist. “Marin?” He asked, voice shaking.

“Talia is dead.” She felt Alex’s breath freeze inside his lungs. “And Lucas and Cersei and everyone else. Hunters.” 

“Everyone?”

“Talia’s and Lucas’ children, and Peter are the only survivors.”

She could hear him sobbing. His hands left her body to cover his face. Marin wished she was a werewolf so she could snatch his pain away. She hadn’t been able to feel anything substantial in years, pain would be a relief from the hollowness of it all. 

“How are the children and Peter not in Azkaban?” Alex asked after a few minutes. 

“A hunter went against the code, strangely enough. He vouched for the Hales and claimed they weren't werewolves.” 

His arms came back around her. “Marin. It happened.” He choked out. 

“What did?” 

“Your vision. It happened, that’s all I could think about while I was in Azkaban. It happened.”

Marin had never heard a greater truth spoken. She rose slowly so she leaned over Alex. “It did,” She muttered in realization. “As will the other.” 

“What other?”

“Lycaon.”

 

|~~***~~|

 

“So let me get this straight,” Peter said, arms crossed over his chest. “You think you are the lovers in this prophecy? Isn’t that a little presumptuous?”

“Is that all he got out of the conversation, seriously?” Kali questioned, amused with Peter’s train of thought. 

It had been a few weeks since their escape from Azkaban. Aurors were still looking for them, but no one would think to look in the home of a professor, so chances of being caught were slim.

“If it’s revenge, I’m in.” Ennis spoke with a gruff voice. He slammed his drink on the table. 

“Agreed,” Jennifer interjected. “They killed children. I don’t see why we can’t spill blood for blood.”

“We are talking about murder though,” Marin spoke. She wasn’t against the idea, but she needed everyone to understand what she was saying.

“I think everyone understands what it will mean,” Alex spoke from the head of the table. “We revive Lycaon to kill the people who did us wrong. It’s justice.” 

“How do we bring him back?” Kali asked. “The idea is great but…”

“Well,” Peter sighed. “My father said there’s a ritual to bring him back to life, something about turning forty-nine werewolves, right?”

Marin nodded. “There’s rumors the ritual is locked somewhere in the Ministry with the Unforgivables.” 

“So we sneak in?” Jennifer asked with a smirk.

“That’s the plan.”

“I’ll do it,” Jennifer volunteered. “I can sneak in anywhere.” 

“Good,” Marin pushed back her chair and stood. “Peter, I need to speak with you in private.”

She sensed Kali giving her a strange look, but Marin felt safe enough to walk away from the others as Alex followed her and Peter out back.

“What happened?” Peter questioned once Marin set the silencing spell.

“It’s about the prophecy,” Marin explained. “It speaks about a Moonwalker.”

“Which you said doesn’t exist, so I’m a little wary of accepting this plan.”

“If my first vision came true, then this second one will. But the Moonwalker is not what caught my eye. It’s about who he keeps for company. It said he’s surrounded by chasers of the moon, that’s obviously a werewolf.”

“He’s friends with them,” Peter answered, catching on quickly. 

“Exactly. Alex and I are planning to bring forth Lycaon for a greater purpose. Not for revenge. That’s too simple. We are bringing him to make a statement.”

“Of what?”

“The strongest werewolf in all of history destroying cities and murdering people in cold blood. And a moonwalker with werewolves as friends working together to defeat a werewolf. The public will see werewolf against werewolf. A werewolf fighting for them, for—”

“—Good?”

“Yes. They will see that werewolves are just like any other person. Some good and some are bad, and when they are good, the public will finally see them for who they truly are.”

“Marin you’re talking about the greater good of all werewolves as if that’s achievable.”

“And why not? We talked about it back in Hogwarts.”

“As a fantasy.”

Alex interjected, “And now there’s a prophecy.”  

“Ok, so let’s say this goes according to plan. What about us? The world will see us as the evil ones for reviving Lycaon.”

Alex spoke again, “I’ve resigned myself to die if necessary if it means all other werewolves can live without fear.”

Peter leaned back and observed the two. “How long have both of you been talking about this?”

“Being bedridden leaves a lot of time to talk.”

Peter’s eyes scrunched and then he stared at Marin. “Why are you telling me all this? Why not the others?”

“Because I don’t know Kali or Jennifer that well and Ennis wouldn’t see it this way. He’s never been able to see the bigger picture in things, but you can Peter. Did you know Alan considered crowning you as the Alpha?”

“He what?”

“Yes, he did. The only reason he didn’t is because instinct drove him to Talia. And we both know your sister was an excellent Alpha, but you could have been as well. So this is why I am entrusting you with this information. When we revive Lycaon, I entrust you not to use him as a tool of revenge. That is not going to be part of the plan. We are going to use him as our symbol of hope for other werewolves, have werewolves join our side.”

“You’re talking about a war?” Peter asked. 

Marin nodded. “Great changes have only come out when the oppressed fights back.”

Peter smirked, “Alright. I’ve gotten literally  _ nothing _ else to lose.”

“I’m glad we’re all on the same page.”

 

|~~***~~|

 

Marin hid in the shadows of the Hale home. She had her dark cloak over her body and a scent masking potion surrounding her. From the corner of the room, she watched Peter speak with Laura. Marin did not want to do this, but it was necessary. For everything to fall successfully into place, they needed another Alpha and Laura could give that to Peter. 

However, she watched sadly as Peter took on the alternative decision first. Peter suggested bringing Laura to their side, under the pretense of fighting Alex. Laura did not waver in her stance. Laura was exactly like her mother, and Marin realized Talia would have been against this. She always valued their secrecy more than progress. 

She saw in Peter’s eyes the moment he knew Laura would not follow them. He carried out Marin’s original plan. There was a fight and Marin knew Peter would not be able to fight with Laura. So instead she waited for Peter to guide Laura into the trap.

Laura immediately banged against the mountain ash barrier. “How, werewolves can’t cast this?” Laura seethed. 

Marin stepped out of the shadows, removing the hood of her cloak.

“You?!” Laura hissed, obviously hurt at the betrayal. 

Marin didn’t give her any explanation, “ _ Obliviate _ !” She cast.

Laura was hit with the spell so roughly she was knocked out to floor. Peter approached his niece. 

“Stop dramatically stalking and get done with it,” She told Peter.

“Then break the circle,” He replied snootily. 

With a flick of her wand, she broke the mountain ash. Peter bent down on the floor and she watched him perform the transfer of power. When he gained the Alpha’s power, perhaps that’s when Marin should have realized that just like Alex and herself, Peter wasn’t the same Peter as before. No one was. 

 

|~~***~~|

 

Alex wanted to meet Derek and Cora. Alex had only met them as very young children, and as such, he wanted to see how they’ve grown. But also, he wanted to recruit them into their war. Marin rejected his idea. She didn’t want them getting involved. She felt Talia would never forgive her. So she told him to stay away.

Alex did the exact opposite. 

Marin was fuming by the time she got to Hogsmeade and saw Derek and Cora bloodied and injured. This was the exact reason she didn’t want them involved. Her eyes fell on Kali who approached Cora.

“Ennis. Kali. Stop.” Marin said evenly, and with a hint of a threat. With her brother, she cast a fire spell to get them to step away and as an added security measure she pulled out her bag of wolfsbane.

The werewolves hissed and ran into the Forbidden Forest. She cursed all three of them. They were only meant to place the portkey not attack the Hale children. She ran toward Cora first. She had always had a soft spot for the youngest. 

“I’m sorry Ms. Hale but healing spells don’t work on werewolves,” She said with remorse. She saw the young girl trying to hide her tears. Marin shushed her and watched Alan.

She could see it all across his face. He was troubled at seeing Ennis. She could not blame him and his silence only added to her decision of keeping Alan in the dark. 

When she knocked Cora unconscious with a spell to take her back to the castle, she heard Derek mumble. “There was a fourth werewolf. It went after them.”

_ Fucking Peter… _

 

|~~***~~|

 

Marin rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. She spent the night helping Alan heal Derek’s and Cora’s wounds. When she suggested to Alan to use her new modified herb for their cuts, Alan had questioned why she was certain it would work. Marin thought she would be caught, but Marin remembered her emissary training and swiftly lied through it. Plus, Alan was too worried for the Hales to instigate suspicions. 

It took most of the night to treat them and when she was done, she flooed into Jennifer's summer home. 

She saw Peter trying to rub the salve on his back. He cursed at Alex, who lied on the couch obviously not helping. That alone made her want to reprimand him. Marin sighed and debated walking away from Peter, but when she paid more close attention to the injuries she found herself reaching forward.

“What is this?” She questioned. The wounds looked like burn marks, but she couldn’t remember Peter being near any flames. 

“A stupid kid cast a spell at me. At least I think he did.” Peter informed.

Marin reached for the salve and applied it to his injuries, the herbs worked, which was a relief, but still the injuries were odd.

“A fire spell?” She asked.

“No, like these gleaming red balls shot at me. Hurt like a bitch.”

“It was probably the boy that smelled good,” Alex said. Marin walked to him and hovered over him. 

“What did he smell like?” 

“Like magic and raw power.”

Marin slowly sunk down to sit at the edge of the couch. “The boy with short hair and moles smelled like that?” She asked, making sure.

Alex slowly sat up, “Yes. Why?”

“Cora and Derek have both expressed that they couldn’t stand his scent. It’s not unheard of for humans to have a scent werewolves can’t stand, but for an Alpha to say it smells different makes me wonder…”

“Wonder what?” Alex pressed a hand to the small of her back.

Marin didn’t want to get her hopes up, so she turned her full attention to Alex and glared at him, “Alexandros.” She narrowed her eyes, knowing he wouldn’t see it but he would certainly smell the disappointment. “I thought I told you not to approach the Hales.” 

Prior to the fire and Azkaban, Alex would have fought against her reprimand and attempt to justify his case, but all he did was lean back against the couch and said, “I wanted to see them.”

Marin stared at him calmly. She got back up and returned to Hogwarts. 

 

|~~***~~|

 

Marin made sure to keep a close eye on Stiles Stilinski. After doing some research, it was most likely he was the Moonwalker the prophecy talked about. She discovered his mother was Claudia Silvia and was one of the people in charge of investigating the Deucalion case. She was also the one who took the Moonwalker book from the home. So it made sense that if she was a Moonwalker, he would be as well. 

Plus, she began to notice how quickly Cora and Derek were bonding to him as well, along with Scott, in who Stiles always seemed to control.

She felt terrible knowing that she would have to prime the boy later on but it was something she was not letting herself dwell on. She had already accepted this is what she needed to do.

So needless to say, she was deeply upset when Derek Hale ruined her plans and attacked Peter. Peter had been left catatonic, leaving him virtually useless in the grand scheme of things.

However, when she saw how quickly Cora found her anchor because Derek became the Alpha, Marin found it difficult to stay mad. The boy was a natural leader, just like his mother. 

So she contemplated the situation delicately, while she hardly ate and focused everything on teaching.

She realized how this entire situation could unfold. It did not matter if Peter was no longer an Alpha. The prophecy would still come to pass, plus it would make sense that Derek, Cora, Scott, and Stiles would not be enough to defeat Lycaon when the time came. They would need a bigger pack to build their strength. So as implicitly as she could, she recommended Derek to bite the Hufflepuffs.

She knew already he would be drawn to Erica Reyes and Isaac Lahey. Both of them had been worrying her as they isolated themselves often, so the bite would be a gift to both. Vernon Boyd had been surprise. She was not sure how she felt about him. The boy was too bright and often gave her strange looks. She tried her best to not associate with him, but she feared he would take her avoidance as suspicious behavior. So she let herself be open, to all of them.

Especially Stiles. 

 

|~~***~~|

 

Marin had not allowed herself to spend time alone with Alex for long periods of time. However, Alex did not jump at the chance to be with her either. Both of them sensed that neither was the same. Marin new she was colder and Alex had developed something manic. Sometimes she would catch him whispering to himself, other times when raiding wizard villages to convert wizards, he would take a little too much joy in digging his fangs into human skin. 

So when they were finally alone to search for a forest fairy in the Forest of Dean, Marin feared both of them would decide that they were no longer in love.

And perhaps, that’s what those few weeks alone revealed.

“Ethan and Aiden are doing well,” Alex said to break the silence as they searched for the forest fairy. It had been nine days and no such luck of capturing one.

“Only because you’re around. They’re going to struggle during the full moon without you.”

“I could always sneak into the Forbidden Forest.”

“Derek Hale would find you in a heartbeat if you stepped foot on Hogwarts.”

“Still, those boys are going to need help.”

“Jennifer and I can manage just fine.” Marin paused in her step, “I thought Kali informed you to not get attached to the boys. They are going to be sacrifices you know.” 

“I don’t want them to be though.”

“Alexandros, every werewolf counts.”

“I’ll turn two more. Don’t worry.”

“They aren’t pets, you can’t get attached.” She warned, trying to set her foot down.

“I know they aren’t. They’re like sons.” He sighed, “If we had decided to have children, they would have been around the twins age.”

“Except we both decided not to have children.” Marin scolded.

Alex scoffed, “Only because you were going to be the emissary.”

Marin wanted to explode in anger but there was nothing there to spark the flame. “I see. Are they what you envisioned as what our sons would have been like?”

“A little. I’ve been helping them with their summer homework and they enjoy reading to me aloud.”

Marin frowned. That had been Alex’s biggest complaints of his loss of sight, that he could no longer read. She found the universe cruel for taking away his greatest joy. “Do they read you Joyce?” 

“No, they read me their favorite authors. Aiden read me a book the other day and a line struck a chord with me it said, ‘this is nourishing, redemptive; we become less alone inside.’ I believed perhaps that’s what would have happen to us. In the long run we are going to save thousands of werewolves so we shouldn’t feel alone.” He paused in front of Marin. Only a foot away, Marin looked into his cloudy eyes, as he confessed, “I feel more lonely when I'm with you.”

Marin closed her eyes at his admission and returned to her emissary training to hide her hurt. 

“Each time I’m with you, I’m reminded of what we lost.”

Marin reached forward. She cupped his face with her hand and brought him forward into a kiss. They hadn’t done so at all since she broke him out of Azakaban. She thought the kiss would bring them some revelation of their past life but all it brought was hurt and pain. 

Marin broke the kiss and asked, “Do you still like Joyce?”

“No, I don’t think so.” 

Marin sighed at his answer and saw  Alex for what he truly was.

An empty husk, just as she. 

She held back her tears only because she saw a forest fairy fly over Alex’s shoulder. 

 

|~~***~~|

 

“This is—”

“—Atropa Belladonna otherwise known as Deadly Nightshade.” Lydia answered.

“You are very bright Ms. Martin. Can you tell me what it's used for?”

“It's a plant that people believe causes witches and wizards to get closer to the sight. Its utter bollocks. The only thing it's good for is to polish brooms and help them fly.”

“It’s also used to see if you possess the gift of sight. Would you like to see how it works?”

Lydia pouted. “If I agree to this, can we both agree this will be the first and last therapy session that I will have?”

“Of course.”

Marin explained how the plant worked and she watched with interest as Lydia did not possess the sight at all. So she tried a different approach, letting the husk speak for herself. She should have felt bad attacking the young girl’s self-esteem so deliberately but she honestly couldn't will herself to care. 

“So I’ll ask again Ms. Martin. What. Did. You. See?”

“I saw werewolves. There were about fifty of them, I didn’t really count but they were all dead. That’s what I saw.”

Marin realized immediately what Lydia had seen. It was a vision but more specifically it was a death vision only which one creature could produce. She had found her Banshee. 

 

|~~***~~|

 

Everything was going according to plan. The potion that Alex had to drink was well on its way to being ready, they had all their werewolves, and Marin was confident they were going to revive Lycaon, but of course, Alan was attempting to ruin all her hard work.

He didn’t want any of the young children involved in stopping Deucalion. But Marin needed them there for the ritual. Stiles Stilinski and Lydia Martin played a vital role to Lycaon’s revival. 

So she attempted to reason with him, “Trying to avoid it isn’t going to stop it from happening. It is inevitable.”

“I am aware. I am attempting to quell it rather than aid it along.” Deaton said.

Morrell sighed. “If you truly wanted to then you would inform that boy’s father on where the ritual is occurring.”

“We can’t have too many people involved. Too many variables will blind us how this will occur and might cause more lives lost than necessary.”

“Then let’s do this their way. They can at least try to stop it, you need to have faith in them.”

“What if we can stop it by not having them there?”

Marin slammed her hands on his desk, losing patience. “Not having them there is basically giving yourself up as a slave to this. It will happen if we do nothing.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I am.”

There was a pause. “I don’t want to be a slave anymore.” Alan sighed.

“You never were.”

“I am. And so were you at one point.”

“Being a former emissary was never a form of slavery. And your duty under the Hales isn’t either. Being an emissary is the lightest yoke of servitude one can ever have. It’s beautiful, it’s an act of respect...of honor. You’re serving them yes, but the way they commit to you as well, they treat you as equals. I don’t understand what changed about you, you used to see it that way too.”

“You were never disappointed in your Alpha like I was.”

“Are we talking about Derek or...?” Alan didn’t answer and Marin remembered when Talia forced Alan to hide the bodies the night the young muggle girl had been killed. “Ah. Well then. It’s foolish to think that Alexandros Deucalion, my husband of all people, didn’t disappoint me at one point or another in my life. I mean look at the mess he’s done now.”

“If you were disappointed in him like I was with Talia why do you not follow him any longer. Why are you working against him? You wait it yourself, follow them even through disappointment.”

Except she wasn’t. She still guided him, despite how much both had changed.

“Because I can’t anymore. The decision was made for me when hunters took my life.” She sucked in a breath, “As such, looking at the situation at hand, we need to get involved. I rather do something than nothing. My first prophecy came true but the prophecy— “ The door opened, so Marin paused in conversation.

When she saw the pack enter the room, she already knew she had won. 

 

|~~***~~|

 

During the night of the ritual, Marin had to multi-task. Pretending to attack the opposite side while destroying the mountain ash circle was proving more difficult than expected. But she had to make it work perfectly, otherwise if the others noticed, her cover would be blown. When the lunar eclipse finally hit, she hid her sigh of relief as Kali apparated with Stiles and Ennis approached Lydia just as planned.

And then the game reached it's point where she had to make her move. She went toward Alex.

“You can’t fight me, Marin.” He told her. And within that one line, Marin was brought back to her childhood. It was the last shred of the Alex she had fallen in love with.

So she returned her affection with a fighting stance and amused grin, “You forgot your father trained me as well, Alexandros.”

She charged at him. And she was no longer in that dark bloodied forest, but in a forest with Peter, Mack, Talia, Lucas, Sandra, Cersei, and Ennis as young Hogwarts students. Each one of them challenging each other to fight and prove who was the best. 

They fought on equal footing and each move reminded Marin of her love for him, so it took all her will to climb over him and hold the knife over his head. 

She leaned over him, and let their breaths intermingle. Softly, she whispered, “Will you wait for me on the other side?”

“Of course.”

“Marin!” Alan shouted, breaking their conversation. “Think about you are doing. Do you really want to kill him?”

“It must be done. This is the only way it will all end.”

She watched him shut his eyes before she dug the blade into his throat. 

She didn’t know quite know how much time had passed, but she was suddenly in her room. Her hands were bloodied and she still clutched the knife in her hand.

And that was the second time in her life when she would break down.

She collapsed to her knees and wailed.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Marin regretted keeping so much from Jennifer. The reason she was murdering half the students in Hogwarts was because Marin had not told her the second part of the ritual required them to go to the veil. She thought the plan had failed and Kali had died in vain. But when Marin told her, it was too late.

Jennifer like she, was barely holding onto her sanity. Jennifer’s broke much quicker than hers that she almost single-handedly ruined her entire plans. Marin tried to place the blame on Harris. The man feared her too much to reveal her identity, but Jennifer, oh Jennifer, almost gave it all away that night she ambushed the pack.

But still, because Marin was the only one in the world to understand her pain, Marin helped her escape from the aurors. 

 

|~~***~~|

 

Marin liked Stiles. She promised herself she would not get close to any of the pack members, but there was something about Stiles that intrigued her. Perhaps it was because her entire life revolved around his. The prophecy she had of him dictated her entire life and truthfully it was the only thing keeping her alive. She had to carry out her plan or everything her and Alex planned would go to waste. 

So she decided to help Stiles. She taught him meditation tricks that Marin used herself as distractions, but for Stiles they actually seemed to be working. Moreover, he began coming to her office almost on a daily basis to tell her about his day.

She had been starting to look forward to his arrivals and would always have his favorite candy out when he could come over. She would listen to all his grand stories attentively. It reminded her a little of her own rambunctious adventures in Hogwarts. 

Marin hated to admit it, but it seemed Stiles was helping her more than she did for him. It made her feel guilty that in a few weeks she was going to grace him with the biggest burden of his life. 

So when she finally arrived at the Ministry to pull Lycaon from the veil, she felt her heart clench at the thought of hurting that young sixteen year old boy.

Her pain increased tenfold when she spoke to Peter beside the veil.

He had Alex’s ashes in his hand as he said, “Time to play the nice little actress.” He shoved her to the ground, pulling out his wand. He looked at her ok the verge of hysterical laughter, looking down at her. She was on the cusp of crying as she realized sadly this wasn’t Peter anymore.

No one was the same anymore.

He began the spell, _“Avada Ked—”_

And Marin feared everything she had done would go to waste and turn into a single petty thing of revenge.

Luckily, the pack she was priming so well to fight came crashing through the door, letting her live for another day.

 

|~~***~~|

 

Marin had memorized Stiles’ plan meticulously, so when it finally came down to it, she would be able to disarm everyone and move quickly. 

She broke the lightning spell and stood upright. 

“You will obey me,” She said calmly to Lycaon. 

Lycaon snorted. “I only listen to Peter Hale.” 

She raised her voice knowing that Lycaon would follow her command. It was Alex’s body and that body was still tied to her own in blood. “You will obey me.” 

“You think I will follow a human’s command?” 

Allison tried to attack her but she disarmed the hunter. “You are forgetting that body belongs to me and it will obey me.” 

She took a step forward and placed on its chest, “You will obey me.”

And Peter’s hold on the creature disintegrated under the millennia old spell of bound blood. Lycaon stood beside her right at the instant Stiles came running at her. He was crying. “I trusted you!” His voice cracked.

She smiled sadly, “I truly am sorry.” 

She looked at the scene in front of her and saw everyone staring at her with shock. “Lycaon,” She said calmly. “Kill Jordan Parrish.”

Before they could blink, Lycaon was across the clearing, slashing Parrish’s throat open.

Lycaon looked at her sensing the second command. “Kill Peter Hale.”

Peter gasped and tried to stand to his feet. She saw the look of fear written across his face, but she needed to do this, otherwise he could be in her way again, but more importantly, she needed to end Peter’s pain. 

Lycaon slashed Peter’s throat next. 

If it had been the Peter before the fire, she would have cried, but because it wasn’t, she only felt relief for her friend.

Lycaon was by her side and at the next moment, she was apparating, and carrying out the rest of her plan. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late upload. I had this chapter finished a while ago but I debated for weeks whether I wanted Peter to die. And I think after watching Fantastic Beasts (amazing btw) I realized Peter needed relief from everything. 
> 
> Tell me what you think. Reviews are always appreciated! 
> 
> (next chapter goes to our main storyline)


	66. Registration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> News of the incident at Parrish's home spreads quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look I updated.

Stiles blanched at seeing so much blood spray across the lawn. His eyes could barely process Jordan Parrish’s head barely attached to the rest of his body. His body shook. Crazily, his eyes roamed the scene. The Aurors and his father ran toward Parrish while Derek and Cora slowly crawled to Peter’s. 

From the distance, Stiles could see the man struggling to breathe. Peter’s hands scratched the grass around him, muttering words distorted by the blood pouring out of his mouth. The two Hales slowly fell to their knees beside him, unsure what to do. Fate decided for them, as Peter stopped struggling. Stiles felt the strange sensation of losing the presence of a werewolf.

Suddenly, a ripping cry tore him away from the Hales.

He saw his father precariously hovering over Parrish sobbing and trying several healing spells. Green and light blue spells shot out of his father’s wand and when they hit Parrish, they faded into a sickly gray.

“Stilinski,” Auror Cordova murmured.

The voice startled him and he looked up at her. He scanned the area and locked eyes with Stiles.

“Go!” His father shouted, voice firm. “Take them away.”

“What?” Stiles tried walking to his father but Auror Clark grabbed his arm. “Dad!”

_ “Take all of them back home!” _

 

***

 

Stiles read intently the article in front of him. When he finished reading he slammed the  _ Daily Prophet _ on his lap and glared at his breakfast plate instead. He felt a small squeeze on his thigh and looked at Derek. He smiled at him and tried to shove some bacon into his mouth, while he looked around the Great Hall.

He saw more students than usual reading the newspaper. He scoffed and shoved more food in his mouth.  _ You are going back to school and that’s final. _ Stiles swallowed harshly, remembering his father’s words. 

“This is ridiculous,” Lydia huffed in front of him, slamming the paper beside her when she had finished the article on the front page. “I can’t believe she’s doing this. The utter bi—” Jackson nudged her and looked too obviously at Stiles in front of him.

Stiles rolled his eyes. He didn’t need coddling. 

He needed justice.

Morrell had betrayed them. Had been betraying them for Merlin knows how long. And now, she was in Italy with Lycaon using Lycaon to rise Inferi and attack several wizard communities. 

The woman could rot in hell for what she did.

“She can rot in hell,” Cora sneered, reading Stiles’ mind. “Why haven’t the Daily Prophet mentioned her? Everyone needs to know what a cunt she is.”

“Deaton is probably hiding it,” Boyd said.

“Can we even trust Deaton after what Morrell did?” Isaac interrupted. 

“We can trust Deaton,” Derek said. He was the only one who had seen Deaton after the incident three days ago. “He smells disgusting right now, he’s as shocked as we are.”

Stiles continued eating his food in silence. He didn’t want to talk about Morrell or Deaton right now. He didn’t want to talk about anything for that matter. He wanted to be out there with his father hunting Morrell down.

She was the entire reason for  _ this. _

She had used him.

He had trusted this vile woman.  

He wanted her dead. 

His father had other plans though. He sent all of them back to Hogwarts under strict orders they would no longer get involved. Stiles wanted to be upset with his father, but he knew Parrish’s death had shaken him up. Parrish and his father had been close and to lose him so suddenly, must have scared him. So Stiles understood, he really did. It just didn’t mean he had to agree with his dad.

He tuned out his friends and the table behind them as he heard two Ravenclaws talk about the long-term substitute replacing Morrell. 

 

***

 

“I’m impressed with you. You would have done well in my pack.”

Marin’s eye twitched. “I wouldn’t have been part of it. I would have hunted you down and murdered you the same way Rhea did,” She said. She continued to stare at the dimly lit castle a hundred feet away from her. A strong gust of cold air hit her skin and she cast another heating charm under her breath. 

“Yes, I know, but that’s what’s admirable about you.”

Marin rolled her eyes and stared at Lycaon.  _ “What do you want?” _

“Nothing, I am just making conversation as we wait.”

“Don’t.”

She turned away and looked back at the castle. The raids in Italy had been a success. She had murdered most of the Fuoco family in Italy, successfully bringing justice to Jennifer's pack. Now, she found herself in Russia hunting the family who murdered Ennis’ pack. It was a new moon, so the woods were even darker than usual, but it proved great camouflage for the pair as they waited for the signal. 

“How does it feel?” Lycaon asked her and Marin groaned. 

“What does?”

“To look at the man you love kill all these people and raise armies from the dead.”

“I no longer loved Alexandros.”

“Interesting.”

Marin’s eye twitched again, “What’s interesting?”

“This entire situation.”

“Does the new moon always make you more chatty?”

“It makes me more human,” Lycaon said in all seriousness.

Marin regarded this statement and thought for a moment, “If you are trying to make me draw sympathy for you, it’s not going to work. Even before you were cursed, you were a terrible human trying to murder your own family.”

“I did it for the gods.”

“The gods didn’t want your offering and you knew that you were just mad.”

“I murdered my pack for my people.”

Marin looked at him and paused as she saw Lycaon’s face soften in sadness. She had believed that she would struggle to tell the difference between Lycaon and Alexandros, but strangely enough, it was very simple. Lycaon did not use his face the same way Alexandros had. This was an entirely new person that she was struggling to read. 

“What people?” She asked curiously.

“I was king and my people were dying. There was a drought and a sickness spreading to any crops that had managed to grow. The large kingdom I had built was dwindling because I could not provide basic resources for my people. I sought out the Oracles of Delphi and they gave me a prophecy that I would have a kingdom that would prosper for millenniums if I made the biggest sacrifice I could offer. So I killed my fifty sons for the life of thousands, it seemed a fair trade. Not that different from what you are doing for your own people and pack.”

Marin scrunched her eyes, “That’s nowhere in the history books.”

“Of course it wouldn’t be, after becoming this monster, I killed my people in worse ways than I killed my sons. The Oracle lied.”

Marin was a little surprised by his temper. She mulled over what he said before speaking, “The Oracle never lies.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your kingdom lives on. They saw the werewolves as your kingdom. You made your curse into a gift.”

Lycaon did not speak for the rest of the night after her comment. Partly, because she saw a flame light near the castle gate. Marin stood straight and ordered Lycaon to order the dead to rise. 

His roar split the barrier. 

The graveyard by the castle trembled and Marin watched bones break through snow and come alive. The inferi wouldn’t be alive for long, but it would be enough for her to storm the castle and murder all those inside.

 

***

 

Stiles had his chest resting on Derek’s chest. They were lying on Derek’s bed, away from all the panicked chatter as Morrell’s death toll kept rising every day. 

Neither of them was doing much, both too tired to pick up books and study, they merely held each other wanting everything to be over. 

Stiles shivered as Derek’s thumb pressed against his hip a little painfully. Stiles looked up at his boyfriend. His eyebrows were drawn in deep thought. Stiles pushed up and kissed his forehead.

Startled, Derek looked at him with surprise.

Stiles didn’t want Derek to think about any of this madness, so he blurted the first thing out of his mouth. “I want to have sex.”

“What?”

Whoops. Stiles hadn’t meant to say that aloud, but it was already out there…”I want to have sex.”

“Stiles.”

“No, think about it for a moment. I’ve risked my life dozens of times already. If I’m ready to die, why not this?” Stiles said in a panic. He hoped his heartbeat wasn’t giving him away. Because Merlin’s tit, this was scary. But the more Derek remained silent, the more the sex idea festered inside Stiles and filled him with hopeful anticipation he hadn’t been able to feel in days—weeks. 

He needed this.

“Derek?” Stiles asked when the silence dragged on too long.

“Do you want to have sex because you’re scared?”

“Scared of what?”

“Dying.”

Stiles contemplated using his Moonwalker magic to lie, but this was Derek. Derek. Derek, who was here comforting him in more ways than Stiles hadn’t even imagined possible. So he sighed and poured the same honesty Derek spoke with him in every word. “Yes, absolutely.”

“Then—”

“Then what? Is that wrong? To want to spend my last moments with you.”

“No that’s not wrong but I would rather spend it talking than initiating in something you believe to be the end-all of all relationships.”

“Who said sex is the end-all?”  

Derek’s mouth thinned and Stiles let him think. Well tried. He voiced his opinion again, “I’m saying that I want to spend my life with you joined in something we both love. Sex is a way couples show their love for each other.”

“There are other ways to show love.” Derek sat up and Stiles eased off him.

“Yes, but sex is simple. Natural. But...if you don’t want to, that’s fine too. We can keep cuddling, I like cuddles.”

Derek snorted and pulled Stiles into his arms. “I love you,” He breathed into Stiles’ hair.

“I love you too.”

“Then let’s do it.”

Stiles pulled back suddenly, “I’m sorry what?”

Derek smirked idiotically, “Then, let’s do it. Let’s have sex.”

Stiles screeched embarrassingly before latching his lips onto Derek’s. They melded into each other and it was a near perfect kiss before Stiles decided to ruin it, “So how are we doing this? Are you sticking it up me or?”

Derek raised a very annoyed eyebrow at him. Attempted. He broke into a grin and Stiles giggled. 

Derek sighed and thought it over, “I want to you to stick it up me.”

Stiles laughed as Derek used his vocabulary. He showed his gratitude by leaning down between Derek’s legs.

Merlin, it wasn’t even his dick about to be sucked but Stiles could already feel the blood rushing down his own cock without even being touched. The only consolation was watching Derek harden and stretch his trousers. 

He winked at his boyfriend and unbuckled Derek’s belt. Derek licked his lips as Stiles slid off his pants. Stiles made eye contact with Derek for a few moments before closing his eyes and engulfing Derek’s cock. Derek’s hands immediately tangled in his hair and pulled at Stiles’ strands.

Stiles let the familiar weight of Derek’s cock in his mouth slide in and out for a few moments. He loved the texture under his tongue and the musk settling around then. He pulled back and licked the slit, looking up at Derek. Derek shivered and looked up at the ceiling. Stiles grinned with the dick in his mouth as he felt Derek’s thighs tense. Stiles decided to hum and moan.

“Fuck,” Derek hissed out, the voice leaving him like a plea. His back arched and his eyes watered from the pleasure. 

With Stiles’ skilled tongue he pulled back Derek’s foreskin, and then hollowed his cheeks, sucking in earnest. He bobbed his head back and forth finding a very good rhythm. He wasn’t deep throating him, but Derek did not mind in the slightest. He was in heaven right now. Every small scrape of teeth against his sensitive head made him hiss and want to buck into Stiles’ mouth, but Derek wasn’t that cruel so he restrained himself with that. But fuck, it was so hard not to.

Stiles groaned as Derek’s hands tightened even more around his hair. Stiles made the pressure around his dick become pleasurably unbearable. Derek let out a choked out moan. His head thrashed for a moment and he turned his face against his pillow. He bit the sleeve of his pillow, holding in his moans.

While Derek was pleasantly distracted, Stiles looked for his wand that he had left on the bed. With a quick spell, his hands were coated in a slick substance. With a single finger, he pressed delicately against Derek’s entrance. 

Derek suddenly stilled.

Stiles wondered if Derek had ever done this to himself. Stiles sure had. He stopped moving but kept his lips wrapped around Derek’s dick until saliva and precum escaped from his tight hold. Suddenly, Derek’s cock twitched against Stiles’ palate and Stiles took that as the consent. Plus, Derek’s nodding was pretty helpful to show Stiles what Derek wanted. 

Stiles popped off his dick, licking his lips and massaging his jaw for a brief moment. Stiles stood up from the bed and began stripping. Derek sat up a little and removed the shirt he was still wearing. When both of them were naked, Stiles tripped back onto the bed. Derek smiled softly as Stiles’ head collided against his shin.

“Alright?”

“Yeah,” Stiles said, sufficiently red. “I’ll ask you that question in a moment, but just to make sure...are you really okay with this?”

“Stiles. Shut up for once and fuck me.”

Stiles laughed and saluted Derek, earning a beautiful eye roll from the man underneath him. He cast another spell, spilling more of the slick substance onto Derek’s ass. 

Derek flinched at the coldness. “What the fuck Stiles?”

“Oops,” Stiles chuckled. “Spread your ass for me.”

“How romantic, I’m glad I’m in love with you.”

Stiles pecked Derek’s nose, “Sarcasm is my thing, sweetie. Let the professionals like me and your sister handle that power.”

“Please don’t mention my sister while I have lube all over my ass.”

“Sorry,” Stiles said sheepishly. “But really, I’m going to need you to spread that bubble butt if I’m going to stretch you.”

Derek rolled his eyes again, but did reach behind himself and pulled apart his ass cheeks. Stiles felt his face burn in embarrassment. The sight was too erotic. He needed a thousand pictures of this scene right now. 

“Stiles,” Derek growled.

“Oh right, sorry!” 

He pressed his finger against Derek’s entrance. Derek tensed slightly and Stiles’ mouth went back to sucking his dick to relax him. 

Within a few minutes, Derek had a finger buried deep in his ass and massaging his prostate. The moan that came out of Derek’s mouth was needy and deep, and Stiles needed more of it. He pressed another finger until Derek kept swearing over and over again. Derek tried to rock more against the feeling but Stiles lightly bit the head of his dick in warning. Derek stopped and clamped his eyes shut.

Two fingers became three and Stiles had stopped sucking his dick as he pulled his fingers in and out.

“Stiles,” Derek whimpered.

Stiles smiled, pressing a kiss to Derek’s knee. It made both their hearts clench.

The fingers slipped out of his ass so Stiles could apply lube to his dick.

“Derek, you ready?”

Derek couldn’t even find his voice and Stiles was floored. He had caused that. He caused that blissful look on his face. Stiles smiled softly, not getting enough of this man. “Derek, I need you to give me the okay.” He reached out and caressed Derek’s face. Derek’s eyes flew open. 

Derek’s chest expanded with each breath. “Go for it.”

Derek’s eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of Stiles slowly plunging inside. His cock parted Derek’s loosened walls, warm and thick. Derek groaned at the intrusion and pressed his cheek against Stiles’, reaching around to hold Stiles’ head in. His fingers threaded through Stiles’ hair. His mouth opened in a languid moan that was cut short with Stiles’ mouth.

And because Stiles paid attention to every detail, a second later he was brushing his prostate that made pleasure wash over Derek’s body. It short-circuited his head and made it hard to breathe. It was so good already.

Stiles pulled out again, slow and to the head, and pushed back inside. Derek pressed his ass up to meet it; it hit that spot again. Derek writhed in delight, holding back his moans.

Stiles went in and out, in and out, torturously slow, steady and very hard.

Derek wanted more. “Faster.”

Stiles nearly came at Derek’s whiny tone. And thank Merlin, Derek’s right hand scrambled to find Stiles’. Stiles understood the message. In the next second, Stiles had his fingers wrapped around his cock, squeezing him lightly and pumping him.

“Shit,” Derek hissed again. Eyes were still shut tight. He wanted to see Stiles’s face but he couldn’t manage to keep his eyes open.

Stiles’ mouth parted stupidly and his hand gripped Derek’s hip tighter. “Stiles,” Derek whimpered.

Stiles didn’t want this to end but at the same time, it was too much. Derek was too much and he was so amazing and perfect.

Derek moaned hard into Stiles’s mouth, and his face scrunched up, and his fingers tensed in Stiles’ hair. He came into Stiles’ hand, and Stiles lost it as he felt Derek’s ass squeeze against his own cock. 

He moaned stupidly Derek’s name as he released. Stiles pulled out and collapsed on top of him, breathing heavy and sticky with sweat. He thought they would pass out.

But they didn’t.

A few minutes later they were both under the spray of water.

They were kissing each other softly, gliding soap across their skin. Chuckles and whispers were escaping their lips.

“Was it good for you?” Stiles asked self-consciously.

“It was perfect,” Derek muttered against Stiles’ forehead.

“How’s your ass?”

“Burning.”

Stiles released a wonderful breathy laugh. A kiss was pressed to the corner of Derek’s lip. They continued to shower in contentment in the dead of night. The world was theirs in that moment.

Water stopped flowing, fluffy towels wrapped around waists and rubbed affectionately against heads.

Their feet tiptoed across the wooden floor. Hands grasped each other and bed curtains slipped shut. They put on their pajamas and climbed into Derek’s bed again. 

Their limbs immediately tangled with each other, Stiles’s head resting comfortably under Derek’s chin. Derek’s hands caressed Stiles’s hair and the small of his back. The quietness of the room and the warmth in his arms made Stiles aware of the one thing he had been questioning all week. Yes, he was mad and upset and hurt, but this. This with Derek. No one could take that pleasure and happiness and love away from him. 

This was his. Theirs. 

And no one was going to ruin it. 

 

***

 

Derek felt thankful for his natural werewolf healing abilities, because when he woke up, he didn’t feel any pain in his ass. He knew that if Stiles had been the one penetrated the other would have complained for hours and hours and Derek didn’t want to deal with that. He wanted to be able to take Stiles’ apart without the worry of his roommates barging and disturbing them. 

Not that he regretted the moment.

Because it had been fantastic and random and just Stiles.

What Stiles had said last night made sense. Stiles was right. He couldn’t keep asking Stiles to wait but ask him to risk his life every second. Sex was normal and natural and beautiful. Yes Stiles wasn’t of age, but he was mature, and every day was doing things beyond his years. 

He smoothed down his hand over Stiles’ hair, smiling at him. Stiles was drooling a little on his chest, but Derek didn’t care. He only held him tighter and was thankful it was Sunday because they would be able to sleep in and stay like this— 

Derek tensed as he smelled a pack member near. He groaned and shook Stiles awake.

“Whu?”

“Get dressed. Isaac’s coming.”

Stiles face planted onto his pillow. “Tell him to fuck off.”

Derek smelled worry and panic come down the hall. “I don’t think I can.”

Stiles groaned but did get dressed by the time Isaac opened the door.

He made a face at the obvious stench in the room, but made no comment, proving that Isaac had a very good reason for being there. 

Isaac looked at the empty beds beside Derek’s.

“They went to the Great Hall over half an hour ago,” Derek said.

Isaac nodded and then punched the newspaper in hand, “Have you read the paper yet?”

“No.”

Derek approached him and took the rolled  _ Daily Prophet _ in his hand. He froze as he saw the first page.

_ Hogwart’s Professor Guilty of Rising the Most Dangerous Werewolf _

Below was a detailed article of Morrell and her affiliation with werewolves. Stiles read over his shoulder and when they were both done, Derek looked up at Isaac, “So? Who cares if they know Morrell did this?”

Isaac grimaced and reached for the paper again. He showed them the bottom of the front page that had been folded.

_ Hale Family Werewolves! _

Derek dropped the paper upon seeing Peter’s name as the first word in the article. 

“Shit,” Stiles hissed, reaching to pick up the paper. 

Derek didn’t bother reading it and looked at Isaac, “Get the others.” 

Isaac nodded and was about to head out when Stiles gripped Isaac’s forearm, “I can sense them outside the Great Hall.” 

“Let’s go,” Derek commanded. 

Upon descending the staircase with Stiles and Isaac, Derek panicked as he saw Cora swarmed by a bunch of students. He could see the rest of the pack trying to get to her but the crowd of students was too much. He could hear them clearly.

“Your uncle was a werewolf!”

“It all makes sense!”

“They killed your family cause they were monsters!”

“You’re one too!”

“Who let her in the school!”

“She should be killed!”

Derek rushed down the stairs and that had not been his best choice. Because apparently standing next to his sister was taken as a threat. Someone, Derek didn’t know who shot a spell at them. 

It bounced off but still stung enough for Cora’s instincts to grab hold. Derek felt his heart race as he saw his sister’s features change. Her eyes turned bright yellow and her teeth expanded as she growled.

Several students screamed and stepped back, but the others took that as an invitation to keep shooting at them. 

“Cora,” Derek used his Alpha voice. “Do not attack. Do not attack.”

Cora curled in on herself and Derek held onto her, shielding her from the spells. From the corner of his eye, he could see Scott and the other werewolves. Their own instincts telling them to protect the pack. 

Shrieks were heard as the other werewolves shifted. Somewhere, Derek could hear Stiles and Lydia trying to diffuse the tension. Derek did his best but his mind was flashing with burned houses and family member screams. 

He tried to block it out until he actually saw real fire coming at Cora. Derek was ready to growl, but suddenly Theo jumped in front of Cora. 

He blocked the spell and the fire rebounded against the stone walls. His dramatic entrance stopped the other students, giving the werewolves a chance to compose and return to their selves. 

“What in Merlin’s name do you think you are doing?” Theo shouted at all of the students. “Attacking them? What gives you the right?!”

A seventh year Ravenclaw shouted, “They’re werewolves!”

Theo glared at her, but remained rooted in place in front of Cora, “Let me ask again. What. Gives. You. The. Right?”

“Yeah!” Suddenly Derek Hale saw Brett Talbott heading their way. “What gives you the right. We’ve known these people for years.”

“They’ve been deceiving us!” Someone shouted. 

“Yeah, werewolves lie!”

“Humans lie, you idiots!” Lydia shouted eyes lit aflame. 

Allison stepped beside her, “And I swear on Merlin’s grave if you do not put your wands down, I will send all of you to St. Mungos.”

Everyone knew of Allison’s dueling skills so nervously, they lowered their wands. For a second, it seemed like the tension had eased.

But a random student cast a fire spell in Erica’s direction. Derek cursed, it had to be Erica. Erica’s werewolf instincts controlled her and she wolfed out completely into her Beta form. She dodged the spell and ran toward the student who fired it.

Derek was too far away to stop her.

**_“Erica, stop!”_ **

Derek heard Stiles’ Moonwalker voice shoot over the crowd of screaming students. Erica did and Stiles continued to order her until she was sitting on the ground. 

At that moment, Professor Argent and Finstock entered the scene. Quickly and efficiently, they cleared the Great Hall until only the pack remained. 

Derek continued holding onto his sister as all of them were directed to Deaton’s office. If Derek had been more in his right mind and less frazzled, he would have voiced against Deaton’s suggestion for their safety. 

But truly, what could have been done to stop it.

Shame clung to his shoulders as he walked with his pack to the Ministry’s Beast Division. One by one, each of them was branded and registered.

Derek had failed his pack. 

He had never felt more humiliated in his life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a random burst of inspiration for this fic that I haven't had in months. Its a lot shorter than what I am used to but I know you have been waiting for an upload which is why I also didn't beta so sorry if there are any mistakes. Don't know when I will upload again, just know I'm not giving up on the fic.


	67. Third Stage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles finally discovers the mystery of the last pages of his Moonwalker book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry not beta-ed

Boyd, unlike the other werewolves, could take the full force of nasty glares and muttered derogatory terms. Hell, Boyd could even take the panicked faces and shuffle down other halls to avoid him. He had grown up in this setting. He knew what to expect from it.

Living in the muggle world as a Black kid, made him explicitly aware of his Blackness. 

So he didn’t really flinch or feel bothered when the same discrimination he faced as a child, came back to him as a werewolf. 

And now as a werewolf, he had to wear an armband on his shoulder. The white cloth looked like an infection against his black robes and the id card around his neck looked like the bullseye of a target. 

The only thing that bothered him was the yarn string holding his id card. He fiddled with the string. It itched and burned almost as if it had been dipped in mountain ash. Stiles had looked it over and could find no trace of it. Still, it was annoying as hell.

“I’m going to slit my own throat,” Erica hissed, walking beside him. She tugged at the string too and scratched her neck.

“Just make you sure you don’t spill your werewolf blood all over the halls. You might infect someone,” Isaac said bitterly.

Boyd rolled his eyes, “There’s no point in complaining,” Boyd said. He stopped them on their way to Herbology and stood in front of Erica. He pulled her hair forward and maneuvered the string so it touched more of her hair than skin. Then they continued walking. “Deaton did as much as he could do for us. I’m surprised they didn’t expel us.”

“Are you defending the way they branded us?” Isaac questioned. “Something they are forcing us to wear so they can kick us around?” 

“It's better than lying dead on the ground,” Boyd said.

“Really? Cause I think I rather die than wear this bullshit.”

“Isaac,” Erica stopped him, voice soft and startling both boys. “It's done. There is nothing we can do, so please stop.”

Isaac exhaled an annoyed huff, but let the conversation behind. Boyd understood his anger and wanted to be angry too but he knew anger wouldn’t do anything.

He stepped inside the Greenhouse. Several students gasped at the sight of them and formed an invisible circle around them. Boyd made his way toward Jackson, Stiles, and Danny.

Jackson had his head down and fiddled with his gloves. Boyd sat beside him and waited for class to begin. 

He heard heavy boots squishing against the grass outside. Boyd turned over his shoulder expecting to see another ditzy substitute for their Herbology class. Deaton had been having trouble finding a teacher with the qualified credentials and as such several people had walked through class in stem thinned heels.

At the door, Boyd finally saw a black woman. She walked in with grace and a rather powerful gait. She dropped her suitcase in the corner of the room and placed her hands on her hips looking around. 

She frowned when she saw the obvious circle around the pack. Boyd didn’t want to explain so he shifted making his armband more visible to the woman.

The woman sighed and rolled her eyes before stating, “Hello everyone, my name is Professor Ramsey and I will be your herbology teacher for the rest of the year. Let’s take quick attendance so I can get to know everyone.” She pulled out her wand from her robe and summoned a list. She called everyone’s names and looked up to memorize everyone’s faces.

Professor Ramsey put the list away and then looked at the class. “Can someone explain to me why the class is so spread out?” She asked with a tilt of her voice.

Boyd felt the class stiffen.

“Well?” She asked again. When no one answered, she called on a random Slytherin and repeated her question.

The sixth year Slytherin awkwardly shifted in his seat and then said, “They’re werewolves professor.” 

“And?”

“They’re dangerous,” He said as if it was obvious.

“And what does that make you?”

“H-hu-human.”

“Mmmm, you seem to me more like a racist prick. Although, is that the right word in this scenario?”

Boyd and Erica both snorted in surprise at her reply. The rest of the class stared at the woman strangely, unaware of the meaning of the word, but understood it was an insult. Their professor though zoomed in on him and Erica at their reaction.

“Muggleborn?” She asked them with a smile.

“Yeah,” Boyd reply. 

She stared at him for a moment before saying, “I’m sorry you get this treatment on three fronts.” 

“I’m used to it.”

She nodded and turned away from him. She directed to the class, “I can’t teach like this,” She said with a fuss and then began moving students closer to the front near the pack. When everything was in order she began to teach.

As she instructed them on the Venomous Tenacula and how they would wrestle with one next week, Boyd could see Erica light up beside him. She hadn’t done that in weeks. Boyd found himself staring at Erica and their new professor back and forth.

The woman didn’t seem to have any ill intention toward them. She hardly seemed fazed by their werewolf status. She had had Jackson hand out guided notes to the class as she erased the board. Boyd didn’t know if it was a blessing or not because their last Herbology professor didn’t have a problem with them either. And now, she was out

Still, when Boyd sniffed the air and honed in on her heartbeat, she seemed genuine—a bit like Professor Argent. Plus, there was the fact that she was muggleborn. She didn’t grow up in this society with the same prejudices. 

By the time lessons came to a close, Boyd drew one assured conclusion. She was a great teacher. Boyd could already tell that the way she responded to students’ questions, she cared about them and truly wanted them to learn. Also, her response to Erica’s difficult intrusive questions made Boyd admire her even more. 

He walked out of the classroom pleased. However, when he turned to Stiles, the other glared at their new professor.

“Is something wrong Mr. Stilinski?”  Professor Ramsey asked calmly.

Stiles didn’t reply. He tightened his fist and walked away. 

|~~***~~|

 

Stiles wanted to get away from all the stares. Wherever he went, people glared at him. He heard the mutters in the hallway, ‘the one who was fucking the werewolf.’ At first, he could ignore it. He didn't care what others had to say about him, but when it involved Derek and his friends, Stiles wanted to hex all of them. 

Students had revolted and said they didn't feel safe with so many werewolves as prefects and as a Head Boy. They stripped their hard work from them and passed it down to more ‘deserving’ students. Didn't they know they had kept the school safe? Fought so people wouldn't die! 

Of course, they didn't. All they cared about was holding their prejudices close to their morals to avoid looking at the truth. Cause Stiles knew if they looked at the truth, saw werewolves for what they really were—they would have to question everything their parents told them. They weren't ready for that. Stiles understood that, but he could not sympathize at all with them. If he had to change and shift all his beliefs at a young age, then why couldn't they? 

So fuck all of them.

Stiles scratched his head with his quill as he read over his Charms assignment. He was pleased that Finstock was still a jerk and didn't treat them any differently. Stiles was still trying to figure out whether Finstock had known about them all along or really just didn't give a fuck. The latter seemed more likely due to the lack of startled screams. 

He turned a page in his book and his finger got caught on the edge. He hissed from the paper cut. 

Jackson, Derek, and Scott who were sitting with him in the abandoned classroom looked at him briefly before returning to their own schoolwork. 

Stiles held his finger awkwardly as he looked for his wand in his bag. He struggled with his non-prominent hand and instead just dumped his bag on the table. Several books opened on the table. His hand reached for his wand sitting on top of his Moonwalker book. 

As he was about to cast the small healing spell, he watched curiously as the blood that had gathered on his finger seeped into the pages and disappeared. 

Stiles looked at the blank pages in his Moonwalker book and saw a smudge of words appear. 

Stiles gasped.

Instead of casting the healing spell, he cast a spell to cut open his finger more.

Blood dropped off his finger onto the book. Stiles manically looked to it, smearing his finger on the page.

When the words appeared, Stiles’ chair fell behind him.

He knew that writing.

He had seen it throughout the entire book.

It couldn't—

“What the fuck Stiles,” Jackson hissed. He pointed his wand at him and Stiles felt his finger close nearly.

Stiles couldn't react.

All he could see was the writing in the book.

_ To my beloved son, _

“Stiles?” Derek asked. “What's wrong?”

“My mother,” Stiles whispered.

“What?” Scott questioned, leaning over the table. 

“I—” Stiles grabbed the book, pulling it closer to him. He sat back in his chair and began to read.

_ To my beloved son, _

_ I wish I could be with you right now, but if you are reading this I know for a fact I am already dead. I tried my best for you, but I know it wasn’t enough to alter this part of fate. You must be confused right now and I apologize. I kept you and your father in the dark and perhaps I could have done more for you if I reached out for help. Selfishly, I thought I could do this alone and that was my mistake that has lead me to slowly die and hurt you and John in the process.  _

_ But now, this is the only way to reveal to you the truth. _

_ Before you were born, I was on an assignment. It was simple. A woman had a hippocampus and the ministry wanted to check if she had the necessary license to hold the animal. When I went to her shop, the woman possessed the sight and she gave me the prophecy.  _

_ The one with the moon flowing in his veins comes to vanquish The Once King of Arcadia brought forth from vengeance...he will be born on the eighth moon...lovers and mother will set the pieces before him...surrounded by one forged from silver, a lightning guardian, a creature that screams for death, and chasers of the moon...the King will overpower him, but he will die to kill, for the spirit must rise no more...the one with the moon flowing in his veins comes to die. _

_ I didn’t think much of it at the time. I wasn’t pregnant with you yet. But when you were born on an eighth moon, and your father was assigned to the Deucalion case, and then I found this book; I knew. _

_ I dedicated my life to stopping this prophecy from happening. In the worst ways that I wish I could take back. I told you werewolves were dangerous and vile in hopes you would stay away from them and this prophecy would never happen in the first place. But I knew that was foolish, so I began to decode this book. _

_ I read over Rhea’s entries over and over again, trying to find anything to stop you from dying. And I found it. Found the way to stop Lycaon. It’s not foolproof and you will still need to die but I have found the way to bring you back.  _

_ I’ve created the ritual and potions you will need to complete this. I hope you have all the pieces in your pack if I have determined this prophecy correctly and they are your pack and not your enemies.  _

_ I know you can do this son, I love you so much. And I am sorry you are going to have to do this. _

_ Love you always even after death, _

_ Your mother _

“Stiles?” Derek tentatively asked after Stiles flipped madly through the pages. 

Stiles shut the book and looked at everyone. “We need to have a pack meeting now.”

 

|~~***~~|

 

“Your mother made a ritual?” Lydia asked, flipping through Stiles’ Moonwalker book. 

Stiles had been momentarily shocked that the others could see his mother’s pages upon calling the meeting. However, it made sense that the new pages at the back of the book were not tied to the original binding. Once, Stiles had revealed it with his blood, the contents became visible to everyone. 

“Yeah,” Stiles answered a little crazed.

He walked around the Room of Requirement, tripping over everyone’s book bags and his own feet. The pack sat on a couch on each other’s lap each trying to glance at the book. Derek as usual, took his ominous stance by the fireplace, watching Stiles carefully.

Stiles tried not to stare too much in his direction. If he did, he would break down and he couldn’t right now. Not when he had the answers to end this mess in front of him.

“How can you even be sure it works?” Allison asked dubiously. 

“Because all her calculations are correct. Look at it!” He nearly screamed. 

“And for those that don’t understand what this means,” Isaac said sheepishly. 

“Basically we can’t kill Lycaon in this physical world,” Stiles said, still pacing. “He’s much too strong for us. My mom talks about forcing his spirit into the spirit world and three of us entering that spirit world to defeat him. The ritual works on a system of three points: a human, a werewolf, and a Moonwalker. We cross over and kill him there.”

“That’s it?” Cora questioned.

“That’s the dumb downed version of it,” Lydia sighed. “Stiles, this ritual is complicated. The potions, the runes, the magic Kira and I are going to have to use, the deaths themselves. There can’t be any room for error and this law of equal change your mom refers to...this is ancient magick, it may not even be real.” 

“So what does that mean, the ritual won’t work?” Derek asked, finally speaking.

“The ritual will work most definitely,” Lydia said. “All of this is brilliant, but coming back to life may not. Your mom gets vague at that point so she may not even be completely sure how that works.”

“We aren’t doing it,” Derek spoke with finality. 

Stiles snapped his head toward him. “What? Of course, we are.”

“It’s much too dangerous. Stiles, the ritual calls for three members of the pack to die.”

“I understand that, but my mother’s calculations are correct. We can come back.”

“Stiles—”

“No!” Stiles screamed. His heart raced in his chest, expanding his ribs uncomfortably. “My mother died for this! I’m not letting that go to waste.”

“Stiles, listen to yourself.”

“I am listening and I get that you are all scared, but people have died. I am willing to sacrifice myself for this. I’m already going to die anyway the prophecy says so, might as well be on my terms.”

“Yeah well, I’m not letting you sacrifice members of the pack.” 

Allison thinned her lips and then said, “I’ll do it. I trust Stiles.”

Cora stood to her feet, “Me too.”

Derek’s eyes widened at his sister’s declaration. His nostrils flared and without raising his voice told the group, “Everyone but Stiles out.”

The pack looked between them like startled creatures before grabbing their stuff and rushing out of the Room. When the door closed, Derek glared at Stiles.

“You can’t possibly be thinking of doing this,” Derek reprimanded. 

Stiles felt like a child as he said, “I am.”

“You’re doing this to seek out revenge not out of sacrifice.”

“What?”

“You’re upset Morrell betrayed us and you want to get back at her by destroying her weapon.”

“This isn’t about her.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No!” Stiles shouted. 

“Then is it your mother?”

“Of course it fucking us. I said so, she died to give this information to me Derek. I can’t let her death go to waste.”

“But Stiles—”

“No, I don’t want to have this conversation.” Stiles reached for his book bag and slung it over his shoulder. He stalked to the door and before his hand could touch the handle, he felt Derek’s presence expand. Stiles slowly turned around. 

“She lied to you,” Derek accused. 

Stiles was tired. “She was trying to keep me safe.”

“Under false pretenses and lies, she constructed under you and your dad.”

“So?” Stiles' voice rose again. He dropped his bag to the ground. He marched forward. “She fucked up; doesn’t erase what she did!”

“But perhaps her action of avoiding seeking help might have aided the prophecy.”

Stiles’ lungs collapsed for a few seconds with Derek’s claim. “What?”   

“You forget the prophecy says ‘mother will set the pieces before him.’ She knew what she was doing. She fell into the role of this prophecy perfectly. She set everything for you.”

His lungs kicked him back with a punch. It expelled out of his mouth in a hysteric laughter. “So it’s her fault?”  

“That’s not what I’m saying. I am trying to make you think rationally. You read her letter once and it convinced you to kill yourself on something that might work—don’t say the calculations are correct. Theory and practice are two different things.” Stiles narrowed his eyes at Derek’s remark. He hated when that line was thrown at him. He tightened his fists, wanting to break something, but Derek’s hand gently took his left. He cupped it gently and raised his other hand to his cheek. Derek forced him to meet his eyes. Stiles met them and returned to the moment when Derek had broken down on him. “If the prophecy had been about me and I jumped at the chance to die would you have let me?” Derek asked. 

Stiles choked on Derek’s vulnerability. “No.”

“So Stiles, please listen from where I am coming from. You think this through and throw this plan as a backup if all else fails. I’m not going to let you die or anyone in our pack risk their lives like that.” Derek’s hand reached around the back of his head and made them knock foreheads. Derek’s voice came out hoarse, “I have already lost one do not make me lose another.”

Stiles released a wet broken sob. 

 

|~~***~~|

 

They reached a compromise. 

At least that’s what Noshiko had said when Stiles sought her out for help. She told him relationships were built on compromises and yadda yadah—Stiles didn’t really care. All he cared was that he had Derek on his side and vice versa.

So here he stood like an idiot in the Forbidden Forest with her, Derek, and Scott. 

It was a full moon. Scott and Derek were meant to be in the ministry as under the new werewolf ordinances but Deaton had written a passive aggressive note stating that Hogwarts was the safest place in all of Great Britain and the castle was more than prepared to house a few werewolves. So the rest of the pack was chilling in the Room of Requirement going over his mother’s ritual. 

Stiles had found an interesting tidbit in his mother’s notes. She theorized that Rhea was wrong on her belief that the third stage was activated by killing a werewolf. All it said was that one needed to bleed under the full moon with the blood of a werewolf. His mother believed slicing his skin under the same conditions on a full moon and water would work if he were to use the blood of a werewolf he was close to. After all, those that survived the transfer of magic into the third stage were those closest to the werewolf Rhea had killed. It was the bond between werewolf and Moonwalker that activated the stage. 

So here was Stiles with Scott.

At first, the most plausible werewolf would be Derek. However, Noshiko had advised using the blood of an Alpha might not be the best choice. She feared Derek’s power might overpower his. So they got the next best thing.

Stiles had removed his shoes and socks and rolled up his pants. Scott mirrored him looking a little worried. Derek off to the side with Noshiko was as well. He had that pout on but was restraining himself from pulling Stiles out of the water.

Stiles assured him it was fine. The worst that could happen was that he would have Scott’s bloody hand on his. Nothing more.

“When can we do this thing?” Stiles asked, trying to act nonchalant. But really he was nervous too. Not that it would go wrong but that he wanted it to go right. It could mean everything if he could be stronger.

“The moon isn’t it at it’s highest point yet, just a few more minutes,” Noshiko said, glancing up at the sky. “You might want to sit in the water.”

“Why?” Scott questioned.

“Might be easier.”

Scott sighed and was about to take off his pants. Stiles scoffed, “You’re a wizard, Scott.” He pointed his wand at his best friend and cast a water repellent charm on his clothes before he did himself.

Both of them sat cross-legged in front of each other, water reaching to their waist. 

“We always said we wanted to be blood brothers,” Stiles said.

“That was you. I always said that was a creepy thing to say aloud.”

“It’s gonna be true now though.”

“Okay in fifteen, fourteen, thirteen,” Noshiko began counting down.

Scott took a shaky breath. He held the knife coated in wolfsbane tighter in his hand before drawing a long line along his forearm to his palm. Scott hissed watching the blood drip. He handed the knife to Stiles. He did the same.

“Three, two, one.”

They both submerged their arms under water, clasping each other’s forearms in a deadlock. 

At first, Stiles felt nothing. Disappointment made a home in his gut and he was ready to pull away, but suddenly he felt a violent tug on his chest. It pulled his chest upward causing him to arch his back. His grip fell away from Scott’s and his arms fell limply beside him in the stream. 

It was a choking sensation. He felt like he was being stuffed like some turkey as magic filled his entire body. His eyes watered as he looked up at the moon.

It’s light lit his body aflame. It felt like too much almost like his heat-episodes. He gasped and the inhale of breath triggered something.

He blinked several times but he swore he saw a woman floating above him. Her hair cascaded in every which direction and her silver dress looked alive as it trailed up and around her.

A warm touch brushed against his cheek and Stiles sought it out.

“Rhea,” He gasped out.

“My blood. My magic,” She said.

Her voice finally calmed the burning pit in his belly. It simmered warmly instead. Slowly he was brought down into the water. His entire head sinking. His body wanted to react to the water entering his mouth and nostrils but Rhea above him shushed him and he listened. 

“Let it fill you,” She said softly above the water, and as if she had been reading his mind, “You are not a murderer.”

Stiles gasped as he sat up. He coughed out water that had entered his body and he blearily looked around.

Derek and Noshiko were beside him, each with a hand on his back looking at him with much concern.

“Mr. Stilinski?” Noshiko questioned.

Stiles brought his palms to his eyes and wiped the water away. He took several breaths, feeling a smile against his face because for once the fire in him wasn’t intruding or uncomfortable. It felt alive and was living in him harmoniously. He asked it to move from his belly to his chest to his fingers and then back down to his toes. It listened.

_ “It worked.”  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you haven't noticed there is now the listing of the final chapter. 10 more to go. AGGHHHHHHH!!!!


	68. End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I apologize

Derek felt his cheeks flush at the commotion in front of him. He had his arms crossed over his chest to appear intimidating but truthfully he kind of wanted to slink away from this moment altogether. He hung his head momentarily as other students and test administrators looked in his direction. 

Temptation told him to just walk away but he knew Stiles, Allison, Lydia, and Kira wouldn’t let him walk unscathed. 

Derek had been about to take his first N.E.W.T.s, when the test administrator with a thick mustache and even thicker frame told him straight to his face that werewolves were not allowed to take the exam. Derek wanted to growl in the man’s face, but he knew that would only escalate the situation. He had tried to calmly explain why he should take the exam, but his heart rate betrayed him. And ever since Stiles had activated his third stage, he was acutely more aware of the werewolves’ emotional states.

He had found Stiles in the entrance of the Great Hall five minutes later with the girls, looking absolutely furious.

“—He did not work his ass off for seven years for you to tell him no!” Stiles shouted, not caring the man was a lot bigger than him.

“I’m sorry Mr. Stilinski but—” The administrator said.

Stiles cut him off, “—I will call my father.”

“Your father is not the Minister of Magic. And the ordinance clearly states that—”

“Screw the minister’s ordinances! It’s just a test.”

The test administrator smile looked like someone pulled it with string, “Exactly. Just a test, he should be fine without it. Now, if you'll excuse me I have wizards that need the test administered.” The test administrator turned in the opposite direction, and he let his heavy feet waddle to the test prompter. 

Derek saw Lydia march after him, a retort ready on her lips, but she was held back by Kira’s firm grip. 

Everyone who had been staring and gossiping, suddenly shut their mouth at Deaton’s entrance in the Great Hall. 

“Is there a problem here?” Deaton asked, noticing Lydia’s and Stiles’ red faces.

“Not a problem whatsoever,” The test administrator answered, his mustache twitching over his upper lip. 

“Yes, there is!” Stiles shouted. “This man here is actively refusing to give Derek the test.”

“May I ask why?”

“New ordinance signed by the minister herself,” The test administrator said bluntly. 

“And what does it state?”

“That werewolves are not allowed to apply for any certifications or exams, which includes all government issued school exams.”

Deaton smiled, “I’m sure you can make an exception. This man here—”

“Oh, I know who he is, it’s all over The Daily Prophet His uncle caused that demon to rise. Thank Merlin, he’s dead. Serves him right. His family is the reason the bloody world is in chaos right now and I don’t feel like giving the test to someone related to that.”

Deaton narrowed his eyes and turned toward them. He licked his lips and asked the man to move to the side. Derek continued on eavesdropping using his enhanced hearing. “Sir, you will administer the test to Mr. Hale.”

“Or what? You got no jurisdiction here.”

“I am the Headmaster of Hogwarts.”

“Exactly just a little bitsy Headmaster. Not the Minister of Magic and last I checked her word rings louder than yours.”

“Sir, if you allow me to explain—”

“How about I do the explaining, eh? I’m dear friends with the Head of the Beast Division and he explained to me that you have been pulling some strings down at the Ministry to let these things stay in Hogwarts on full moons. He also told me this in very hush hush conversation, because you see, this man has a soft spot for you. If parents ever found out you did this, you would be sacked. And unlike him, I have no problem in taking this information down to  _ The Daily Prophet. _ So you can get out of my way and let me do my job or I can go to  _ The Daily Prophet _ where in a moment’s notice you will be replaced by someone who’s not keen on fucking werewolves. Oh I’m sorry, for a moment I got you and your sister confused. That’s right, I know, she’s the bitch fucking up England and the goddamn world.” The man leaned into Deaton’s space. “So I will ask one more time. Are you going to let me do my job?”

Deaton stared the man down, but finally stepped back and nodded. He returned back to the group with a sour smile.

“Deaton,” Stiles began.

“I’m sorry.”

Stiles blew up and screamed, “You can’t just let him do this, Derek has worked—”

Derek immediately cut him off, “It’s fine.”

“Derek…” Stiles’ voice trailed as he watched Derek dash out of the Great Hall.

A moment later, Derek heard Stiles’ clumsy feet come after him. Derek walked faster, not desiring to have an inevitable fight with onlookers around. Stiles called his name several times each one louder and sounding more frustrated than the last, but Stiles took the hint when he realized Derek was leading him outside. His voice shrunk and disappeared altogether, walking beside Derek with hands in his pockets.

They arrived in the Forbidden Forest, the old place where they used to train the pack. Derek examined the area and was surprised to see that some of the training gear was still there. He walked over to the one of the wooden railings and leaned against it. 

Stiles hesitated for a moment before deciding to jump up on the railing and sit down. 

Derek smelled resentment spiraling out of Stiles’ body, and was actually surprised Stiles had not immediately begun berating him.

They both let the forest fill the noise for them. The wind rustled against the leaves and random branches shook overhead from owls or indistinguishable creatures. 

It stayed that way for a good ten minutes until Stiles finally sighed and said softly, “Derek, you can’t just let that pig do what he wants.”

Derek crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You didn’t hear how he threatened Deaton.”

“Fuck Deaton!” Stiles snapped ruthlessly. “What has Deaton done for us?”

The air around Stiles changed, shifting uniquely to Stiles’ magic. Derek grew weary and annoyed. “Stiles,” he reprimanded.

Stiles jumped off the railing and walked in front of him.“Seriously, all he’s done is kept us in the dark and caused all this mess to happen.”

“He didn’t do it intentionally.”

Stiles eyes narrowed and his mouth parted and closed several times trying to find the words. “Why are you defending him?”

“Because he’s the reason the werewolves in our pack haven’t been dumped in the street yet. Can you imagine what our life would be like if someone else was running Hogwarts?”

“Derek, you’re the Alpha; you don’t need Deaton. I’m going back in there and forcing that stupid mustache to administer the test.” Stiles turned his back and began walking quickly.

Derek huffed in annoyance. He chased after him and reached out. “Stiles.” He meant to grab his arm and pull him back but Stiles disappeared from his grip and was on his left the next second. Derek didn't like Stiles free use with his new powers. He didn't mention it though, that's not what this argument was about. Plus, both he and Stiles had compromised that instead of Stiles researching the ritual he could activate his third stage.

“What?” 

“I understand you are upset,” Derek began. “So am I, but unlike some people I am doing my best to not let my anger get to me.”

Stiles crossed his arms in front of his chest. If Cora were here, she would have laughed at Stiles’ posture because it eerily resembled Derek’s. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” Derek said quickly, not meaning to let it slip.

“Derek.”

“What?”

Stiles uncrossed his arms and sighed tiredly. He walked closer to him and rested his forehead on Derek’s shoulder. “I’m not doing this with you. What did you mean?” Stiles whispered.

The vulnerability made Derek voice his thoughts. “Ever since we tried to defeat Lycaon you have been so hostile toward every adult.” 

“Well excuse me for being angry at the ones that screwed us over.”

“It’s not like you, at least not anymore. Are you still upset over Morrell?”

“Of course I am upset about her but that’s not the point. This is about you.” Stiles looked up at him. His hands came to Derek’s waist. “Derek, don’t you see what the Minister is doing with this ordinance? She is stripping you of your power.”

“She’s already done that by having us wear these stupid id cards.”

“No, that’s a way for them to identify you, Derek. This is so when you get out of Hogwarts, you can’t get a job, you can’t earn money, you can’t make a living so you end up poor and you die.”

“I have my inheritance.”

“And how long is that going to last? She keeps dropping a new ordinance what’s to say that werewolves are not allowed to have property or money to their name. The government will strip everything from you and I am not going to be there to protect you.”

“Stiles.”

“Derek, I’m going to die and I won’t be able to help you. So please, let’s go back in there and fight while we still can.”

“Stiles, please don’t make the situation worse.”

“Excuse me?”

Derek felt Stiles’ grip leaving him. He reached out and held tightly onto both his wrists. “Listen, to me. Use your powers, can you feel it?”

When Stiles had activated his third stage, the next day he told them he could sense the werewolves’ emotions. Not in the same way he could, Stiles said he could not smell anything but rather he felt it. It had been a little alarming since there was no mention of it in the Moonwalker book or his mother’s notes. Stiles characterized it as something that was just what he could do. Plus, from what Stiles had told him he could only feel Derek’s, Scott’s, Cora’s, and sometimes Jackson.

Stiles licked his lips and spoke softly, “You’re scared.”

Derek held him tighter. “Please, don’t push it. For the pack.”

Stiles lowered his gaze but nodded. “Fine.” 

 

LINE BREAK

 

Marin kept her hood down as she crept around the forest. The trees that once wrapped around each other were sparse and damaged. Her feet crunched against the ground mixing in with the sounds of the river nearby. She considered following the river and hiding in the caves, but she was done with that. 

She didn't want to hide. She didn't need to. She had the world’s future trailing a few feet behind her. She glanced to him. Her heart rate increased as she saw Alex’s face examine the forest with curiosity. She stopped walking altogether and just stared.

She had to remind herself that this wasn't Alexandros.

“This forest, what happened to it?” Lycaon asked, hands brushing against a burnt tree trunk. 

Morrell sighed, “Years back hunters decided to play a game. They were trying to seek out every werewolf pack they could find. When they found this one, they burned the forest and the pack along with it.” 

“My condolences.”

“Don't. I'm done with those meaningless apologies on my behalf.”

“It's not on yours. It's for the werewolves that died here.” He walked past her and remained silent until they arrived at the worn down house. “Was this your home?”

“Yes.”

“Aren't you worried they will find us here?”

“I have one of the deadliest demons beside me. Why should I be afraid?”

She took a deep breath and stepped through what should have been the front door. All the upper levels of the house were nearly gone so she retreated to the living room. She summoned a stool and sat down in the middle of the room.

For a moment she was back in this house fresh out of Hogwarts and ready to administer the Alpha ceremony. She wanted to drown in the memory and didn’t want to come back for air. She had lost everything dear to her. It nearly felt like they even took the air that she breathed.

But she had to be strong and carry out her mission. 

She sighed and let her eyes glaze over to what used to be the fireplace. “Tomorrow we attack the water supply.”

“Why?” Lycaon asked curiously, standing directly behind her. 

“We are going to cut off their resources one by one and force them to seek help from those they don’t want.”

She heard a snort behind her. “Even when other kingdoms attacked and pillaged my crops I refused to bend the knee for them. What makes you think this one will?”

Marin licked her lips seeing Lycaon’s point. Her plan was to attack England’s water supply, then aim for their food, but she hadn’t considered how she would get the ministry to side with Derek’s pack yet.

She folded her hands neatly on her lap. “They have to been seen defending them.”

“And how will you accomplish that?”

“Keep attacking and hoping they unleash the right ordinances to place us in close contact. From there we let destiny take hold.” 

 

LINE BREAK

 

Stiles felt several eyes on him as he moved around the forest. Heat flickered on the tips of his fingers and small bursts of flames circled around him. They spun quickly and the fire dispersed a few feet outward from the center. It still didn’t feel strong enough and he wondered if it was because the pack was watching him. 

They all expressed a curiosity in wanting to watch him use his powers at his last stage. Which if one were to ask Stiles, was a shitty excuse. He knew why they were there. They all just wanted to make sure he didn’t have another heat stroke and pass out in the middle of the forest. 

A sudden burst of anger made the fire burn brighter and stronger. The pack flinched and stood up from where they were sitting. They stepped further away.

Stiles though, grinned. He tried again but the burst had been gone. 

He practiced for a few more minutes until he felt his magic grow thin. He fell on his butt and took several deep breaths. 

He could hear some muttering from the others and when he looked up he saw Scott and Cora standing over him.

Scott smiled softly and extended a hand to him.

Stiles took it, letting himself be dragged to his feet. Scott suggested they take a walk and Stiles found himself strolling by the lake with Scott and Cora by his side.

He could feel a tension around both of them, but he didn’t want to be the one to address it.

Scott usually unafraid of breaking such things spoke first, “Don’t you find it weird that this is coming easy to you?”

Stiles wiped at the sweat at his hairline. “Um...you mean my powers?”

“No idiot, your dancing skills,” Cora shot back.

Stiles glared at her and mockingly stated, “Cora, you spending too much time with Jackson or what?” 

She pushed his shoulder roughly and Scott redirected their conversation. “Yes, your powers.”

Stiles raked his hands through his hair, “Isn’t it a good thing I picked up on this stage quickly?” 

Scott shrugged, “I just figured because nothing has come this easily to us before.Why this now?”

“I say we don’t look at the gift in the hippogriff’s mouth.” 

“I’ll stick my hand down that hippogriff’s throat to find the hell what’s going on,” Cora retorted. “Just a few months ago you had a heat stroke from your powers, you have to find this weird Stiles. Did anyone in that book of yours say they could control their powers this easily in third stage?”

Stiles didn’t like Cora’s hostility. “What did you two decide to gang up on me now?”

_ “No.”  _

_ “Yes.”  _

Scott glared at Cora’s response and tried to plead with his best friend, “Stiles, really we just feel like there should be more caution in this. Your Moonwalker abilities have always been powerful and I think it would be safe to say that you shouldn’t be pushing them so fast.” 

“But I feel fine.”

“And doesn’t that alarm you? Your powers have never been easy for you.”

“At this point, I’m trying not to freak out about it. But I have thought about it too. I think it might be my mother’s influence. And I haven’t really spoken about this in much detail, but sometimes she pisseses me the fuck off. She kept a lot hidden from me. She put her own magic inside me, that defense thing I have with that freakishly red ball thingy majig that was her putting defensive spells on me. And just from that I assume she might have influenced this part of the stage too. After all, the prophecy really does say mother will set the pieces before him. I’m just a piece of meat she raised for the slaughterhouse.”

“I’m sorry, we didn’t mean to…”

“It’s fine. I’m going to die and destiny is just trying to make it easy for me now. At least that’s what I hope and these powers don’t end up backfiring on me and I just end up killing everyone in the process. Small things.”

“Well if you die I hope you know that when I kick the bucket I’ll torment you in the afterlife,” Cora said. 

Stiles snorted bitterly. “I’ll look forward to it.”

Scott whined. “Guys we can’t joke about Stiles’ death.”

“Why not? Let’s all joke about it, let’s make it enjoyable for me. Oh, I want a deathday by the way, just like everyone throws Sir Nicholas one every year.”

“You got it bud,” Cora said softly, throwing an arm over him. 

If she squeezed him a little too tightly, no one mentioned it. 

 

LINE BREAK

 

Sixth year was finally finished. Stiles took one last look at the castle before he boarded the train because he felt a strong sense this would be the last time he would see it. He memorized the structure, the way the light shined against the windows, the quidditch peeking from the side, and everything else in between. 

He cast his gaze down as the train whistle blowed overhead. He pushed up his courage and stepped inside the train, closing the door behind him. 

Immediately, the group was accosted. 

A mean looking auror that Stiles could not place stood in front of Erica. She tapped her foot, glaring at the man to move aside. Stiles knew if no one did anything she would squash her heel into his balls. 

“New ordinance. Werewolves can’t ride on public transportation with wizards,” The auror informed. 

“We are wizards too you know,” Isaac said snootily.

The auror contained his grin, “Barely,” He replied. 

“How are we supposed to get back home then?” Jackson asked, pulling his best pureblood voice.

“The aurors on this train decided the werewolves would be moved to the baggage cart until we arrive at King’s Cross.”

“You can’t be serious,” Lydia gasped. “Is that even legal?”

“It is with new ordinance. So if you will follow me, I will escort you there.”

“As if,” Erica gasped.

Derek huffed and pushed himself forward, “Lead us there.” Stiles met eyes with Derek understanding his intention.  The auror nodded and began walking down the aisle. “Take the others to an empty compartment,” Derek told Stiles.

Stiles consented but was not pleased. He watched the werewolves go and finally went in the opposite direction with the others. 

Stiles sat closest to the window with Kira on his left. Lydia sat directly across from him with Allison and Danny by her side.

“This is utterly preposterous. This stupid Minister. I’m going to mangle her,” Lydia bristled.

Allison scoffed, “Get in line.”

“Why is the government allowing this?” Kira questioned. 

“People are afraid,” Danny answered. “ The ministry is trying to control every werewolf and make sure they aren’t a threat.”

“Why do I hear a but there Danny?” Lydia asked narrowing her eyes. 

“The ministry is going to unintentionally turn every werewolf against them. Not everyone is as consenting as your pack. They’re going to create and even bigger mess out of this.”

Everyone noticed Stiles’ silence so Allison asked, “Stiles, what do you think?” 

“Danny’s right, but I also think they might strip werewolves of everything before the werewolves even get the chance to fight back against this stupid ministry.”

“Isn’t Laura part of the Wizengamot? Isn’t she trying to do anything?” Kira asked. 

“Cora said they fired her after the article was published about Peter Hale,” Allison replied, “She’s been living with Stiles’ dad for the past few weeks.”

“And we will see how long that lasts,” Stiles said bitterly. 

“Your dad’s not going to kick her out,” Lydia said. “He didn’t even kick out Jackson and we all know how he can be.”

“I meant he might not be able to keep her safe for long.”   

Lydia’s eyes narrowed. “You really think they are going to go after them don’t you?”

“Think about it, Lyds. If you wanted to eliminate the enemy what would you do?”

“Kill them.” She said simply. The answer shocked everyone in the compartment except for Stiles. Lydia sighed and found the need to clarify. “I haven’t felt anyone in our pack die, or about to. But Stiles, has a very valid and annoying point. Hogwarts was keeping them safe but it’s walls won’t be able to protect our pack anymore. It’s going to be on us to keep them safe.”

A silence festered in the tiny compartment. 

Stiles did not enjoy the silence mainly because it only heightened his worries. It only took less than half a week for the shit show to happen during the spring break, an entire summer seemed entirely frightening. Too much could happen in those months. 

“Hey have you heard about what an Amabie is?” Kira spoke suddenly. Everyone turned a curious eye on her. She flushed but continued, “They are a kind of a cross between a grindylow and mermaid.” 

“Really?” Lydia asked, intrigued.

Kira nodded and began to describe the creature in avid detail. Stiles appreciated her efforts. He leaned his head back against the window and listened to Kira ramble. 

Stiles did not realize he had fallen asleep until he felt Allison’s hands shake him awake. He snorted awkwardly out of his nose and Allison giggled from the noise. He shoved her playfully and stood.

“Let’s go get the pack,” She said.

Stiles agreed.

He followed her down the corridor and outside the train. He stretched his arms overhead glancing blearily at the baggage cart. 

He stopped and suddenly brought his arms down. 

He noticed a large crowd circling around the baggage cart and none of them were students. Suddenly, he felt some of the pack’s heart beat quickly. 

Stiles found himself using his powers before he could be stopped. He rushed quickly to the commotion and saw several aurors trying to cuff his packmates. 

“Erica!” Stiles shouted. He tried to climb onto the baggage cart as he saw Erica get slapped by an auror. She fell to the ground, hissing in pain as the cuffs laced in wolfsbane began to dig into her wrist. “Let her go!” Stiles shouted. He got his foot onto the baggage cart, but strong arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him back down.

“Let go of me!” Stiles screamed at the auror who had apprehended him. Stiles fought against his hold and yelled loudly at the man. 

  
  


June

  * Setting: Platform 9 ¾
    * As they are coming off the train there are a team of aurors waiting for the werewolves
    * Immediately detain them, Derek orders to not fight back: Werewolf Ordinance 
    * Stiles wants to fight but gets pushed back, tries to use father’s status, but the Aurors say they have clear orders from the Minister of Magic Araya Calavera which overrides anything Stilinski has said
      * Stiles freaks out and watches his friends placed in cuffs made of rowan tree
      * Everyone watching—spectators
      * Allison tries to calm Stiles down, takes Lydia to talk sense into him 
  * Setting: Train
    * Others boarded on a small cramped train 
    * Derek’s thought process of the entire situation
    * Taking them to Eden District where they are holding werewolves
  * Setting: Stilinski Home
    * Stiles freaking out some more
    * John comes in upset he was too late to stop it
    * Minister has been taking extremes
    * John has a stupid idea to get them out and only takes Stiles
      * Says he won’t be able to bypass all of them through security
  * Setting: Encampment 
    * Boarded like cattle
    * Run into Ethan and Aiden and they discuss their situation
    * As they are waiting smell something like a potions classroom, hear someone muttering
      * Animals, Animals, Animals, 
      * Distinguish it is Morrell’s voice and see her sitting on the ground pretending to be a werewolf
      * Terrified as they listen on her speech about rebellion
    * Stiles and John apparate there, are stopped from entering
      * Enter Minister explaining situation
      * John upset
      * Here silence and are confused
      * Werewolves go rogue and attack
      * Morrell standing in the middle of it all
    * Going to attack Minister
      * Stiles uses Moonwalker magic
      * She is immediately captivated
    * Fight scene
      * Calavera notices Derek’s pack are protecting
      * When fight is over and several escape Minister wants to recruit the pack to fight
  * Setting: Minister of Magic office
    * John is saying they cannot recruit the pack
    * Calavera says what better way to fight werewolves with other werewolves
      * Questions what Stiles is
      * Refuses to say
      * Minister threatens pack
    * Agree



July

  * Setting: Missions
    * Several missions to take down Morrell
    * Morrell’s plan: Morrell thinking bigger. She wants laws to change for werewolves for them to understand what they are going through. She thinks this is the only way. She knows how this is going to end werewolves vs werewolves. 
      * First cutting off shops (werewolves can’t use them)
      * Food
      * Water
      * Capturing humans only those who have enacted laws on werewolves and executing them publicly
      * Aurors trying to stop her--straight up battles
      * Morrell raising inferi—Lycaon’s roar has this ability 
    * Stiles learns how to cast fire and other spells that involve third stage of magic
    * Not working
    * Derek forced to make tough decisions, chooses to save his pack over other aurors and the aurors die
    * Blake escapes/runs away
    * One terrible mission Allison fighting with Lycaon, Lycaon rips her leg off, Isaac tries to go help eye gets gouged out
      * Retreat
      * Go to get treated
      * Melissa treats Allison and Isaac, Isaac will not heal from it
        * Not enough hands, some are helping 
        * Jackson helps Melissa
      * Allison gets a peg leg like Mad eye Moody
      * Isaac gets eye patch
      * Morrell sends a potion to help heal their scar tissue and she sends a howler that sends stop interfering
      * Pack starts getting restless



August

    * Stiles decides to take desperate measures
      * Pack meeting excluding, Derek, Erica, Boyd--would immediately say no
    * Going to do the ritual
    * Stiles tells Derek and his father about the ritual except not the part of them dying
    * Leaves information out lies and says him and Lydia found something else
  * Setting: Stiles’ Home
    * Lure them there 
    * Fight scene
      * Will die by arrows—Allison has arrows in her family that are used to kill Hunters that have been turned. They are quick to heal and the wood of the arrow heals the wounds almost instantly
      * This goes with Stiles vision Stiles has been given this image by Pandia
        * Jackson kills Stiles
        * Isaac to Scott
        * Cora to Allison
      * Potions had to be made very complicated
      * Lydia uses Banshee power to hold them together and go to the other side
      * Are in spiritual side and are at the platform of 9 ¾
      * Board train
      * Taken to greek looking area
      * Fight Lycaon’s remnant
      * Kill him
      * Problem they cannot return
      * Meet pandia 
        * Settle that Claudia died for them but can only do it for two people
        * Allison and Scott go back
        * Stiles remains dead
  * Setting: Stiles Home
    * Meanwhile Derek goes ballistic
    * Nearly attacks jackson 
    * John does not see takes down Morrell but when he does see his son, Morrell runs away 
    * The pack explains the situation
    * Takes them inside
    * Lydia is in a trance holding to them but when Scott and Allison come alive connection is broken
    * Stiles is still dead
  * Setting: Spirit World
    * Stiles accepts death
    * Meets mother
    * Have a conversation don’t want to talk about incident much he blames her she apologizes it's not enough 
    * Stiles realizing he’s dead there is no point anymore
    * Stiles talks about life
  * Setting: Stiles Home
    * Don’t want to leave Stiles side
    * Begging Lydia to try again
    * Deaton fearing the worst leaves to go make a floo call
    * Lydia trying, she enters the spirit world but she can only be at the border
  * Setting: Spirit World
    * Pandia comes and says what Stiles’ friends are doing
    * Claudia pleads to have Stiles return
    * Pandia refuses
    * Stiles recalls Rhea, Pandia restored Rhea’s life
      * When she told her about Lycaon, the only way to speak with her was in this realm. Why did you give her back her life?
      * Pandia gives in
    * Walks him to border sees Derek’s family, does not interact just sees them
  * Setting: Stiles’ Home
    * Stiles awakes in immediate pain--dead for a long time and dangerous
    * Derek happy and repeats “I thought I lost you.”
    * Stiles screaming in pain never felt before can’t say anything back
    * Derek freaks out
    * Pushed out when two Moonwalkers come inside
    * Deaton had found other Moonwalkers
    * Moonwalker kicks everyone out
    * Heals Stiles
    * Informs them they cannot meet with Stiles
    * Magic volatile and exposure to werewolves will hurt him
    * Moonwalker says he will take Stiles to his home
    * John consents because he can visit whenever he likes
    * Moonwalker takes him to Beacon Hills a wizard village in the u.s
  * Setting: Dover Beach
    * Morrell standing there with Blake ready to leave to go to France and restart their life
    * Deaton there 
    * Final conversation 
    * Got what she wanted
    * Deaton leaving hales too no longer wants to be an emissary 
  * Setting: Beacon Hills
    * Stiles sleeping for weeks
    * Wakes up 
    * Learns he will be spending 7th year in America
    * Learning how to control his magic—it is violent at the moment
    * Allowed to meet Derek in secret
  * Setting: Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
    * Stiles attending this school
    * Written in drabbles
    * Letters
      * Reveal things about pack
      * Life in hogwarts 
      * How community is building protective things for werewolves
        * Wizard world saw werewolves die for the fate of them what Morrell wanted
      * Other random stuff
        * Erica over Boyd (will not get together into their late 20s) gets with random guy
        * Allison and isaac finally dating
        * Derek missing him but is doing DADA internship
      * Stiles reveals things
        * His training
        * People he meets
        * What the fuck is no-mag



Epilogue 1

Stiles age 19

  * Setting: Forest in America 
    * Stiles achieving moonwalker status 
    * Final mission help werewolves
      * Uses animagus reveal Stiles true form here no longer parrott. Stiles is a raven at first did not like he had Morrell’s patronus but upon further realization realizes he is the pack that Morrell could have been 
    * Cheer for him
    * Derek proposes to Stiles
    * Allison, Scott, Cora in Auror Training
    * Jackson in St.Mungos training
    * Lydia doing research with Boyd
    * Isaac doing Mazioologist training 
    * Erica Herbologist training
    * Kira Dragonologist training
    * World slowly accepting werewolves
    * Rebuilt the Hale home Stiles lives with the three Hales 



 

Epilogue 2

Stiles age 45

  * Derek and Stiles adopted two werewolf girls from Ethan and Aiden’s orphanage they will be starting their first year at Hogwarts
  * Kira and Scott’s son will be finishing his seventh year
  * Jackson and Lydia’s son and daughter (twins) finishing their fifth year
  * Allison and Isaac three kids, the youngest is in his seventh year others have graduated
  * Boyd and Erica their daughter is a third year and son is a fifth year
  * Cora and Theo have three children together daughter in fifth year, daughter in sixth year, son in seventh year
  * Allison is Head Auror
  * The pack stood together watching the train depart King’s Cross. A warm tingle spread through Stiles’s body and for a moment he thought it was his Moonwalker powers acting out again, but looking down at the hand that had grasped his revealed it to be just Derek. 



Stiles turned in his husband’s direction. “You think they will be okay?” Stiles asked in reference to their two girls.

“I’m sure they will,” Derek replied. A fond smile stretched across his face that Stiles could not place. “It all worked out in the end.”

Stiles smiled, Stiles could see how that was possible. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I apologize. I just can't anymore with this story. I have tried and tried and I really cannot write anymore for this fic. This fandom is done for me and I don't have any passion for it anymore. As a thank you for having a dedicated fanbase, here is the general outline how this would have ended. I am truly sorry, but I would rather write things I am passionate about than feel like I owe my readers something, because remember I do this in my free time and as a hobby. I don't get paid for this. If you have any questions about specifics of how things ended then you can send me questions and I will gladly reply, but this story is done.
> 
> Thank you everyone who stuck this far. I love you all, but it is time for me to move on.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Stiles Stilinski and the Werewolf Prince](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4056739) by [Noowayjose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noowayjose/pseuds/Noowayjose)




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